I don’t realize I’m crying until the sound of a sob fills the room—mine.
Clutching the notebook to my chest, I feel the tears stream down my face.
I don’t have to look inside to know the devastating sadness that the pages of this notebook hold. The poems I wrote when I came back from the doctor’s office that afternoon. The ones that haunt me like the words are floating around me, strangling me.
When I wrote them, I was in a grieving trance. I hardly remember the words themselves—fragments of phrases, bits and pieces of angry and defeated imagery, the sad rhythm—but the feelings? The despair, the ache, my heart breaking over and over again—I remember those all too well.
When I look at Aiden, he stumbles backward like I punched him.
“No…” Aiden rams his hands through his hair.
“I’m the one who helped her back up. Who held her hand and helped her put her life back together. Where the hell were you, Aiden? Huh?” Dave continues, stepping toward him, and I cry harder as the emotions grab hold of my chest and squeeze. Dave snaps his fingers. “That’s right. You were having yourself a European sex-cation.”
I cover my mouth, unable to look at either one of them.
Dave whirls around to me. “Instead of thanking me, I have to chase you down to New York, to find you with him. Whoring yourself to the son of a bitch who didn’t give two shits—”
I gasp as Aiden’s fist strikes Dave’s cheek, making him stumble into the back of the couch.
Dave bounces off the back of it, making it scrape against the floor.
The scraping mixes with my voice when I try to stop them. “Don’t…” I cough, trying to find my voice through the weight on my heart.
My stomach rolls.
“Stop it…” I whisper as they shove each other, and Aiden pins Dave against the wall by the door. I shake my head and pull on them both. “Stop it!”
“That’s not what happened. I didn’t fucking abandon her…” Aiden says, putting his arm against Dave’s throat in an arm bar. “I loved her. I wanted to be with her. I came back for her!”
“You what?” I suck in a sharp breath, a new round of tears spilling.
My head hurts.
My heart aches.
“You’re a coward. You never loved her, but I did. I still do,” Dave chokes out.
I sit on the couch, the notebook still clutched to my chest like a Bible. I don’t know how long I sit here or what makes them finally stop trying to hurt each other, but suddenly, they’re both in front of me.
“Baby, you’re pale.” Dave tries to feel my forehead, but Aiden steps in.
“Talk to me, Jersey. What’s wrong?”
“I… I need…” My gaze darts between them and finally settles on Aiden. “I think you should both go.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Aiden says at the same time Dave says, “Yes, he does need to go.”
I squeeze my eyes closed—I can’t look at Aiden right now.
He came back for me?
He never told me he tried to find me. To win me back. To tell me he loved me.
For years, I believed he didn’t have strong enough feelings for me. That he left because he didn’t love me.
That he hooked up with all those women in Europe because I wasn’t worth the fight.
He left me alone.
“Please go.” I grind my teeth as I push them off me and stand, dropping the notebook behind me on the couch.
“Jersey, let me explain.” Aiden holds my shoulders, but I shrug him off.
“I’m not leaving until he leaves.” Dave crosses his arms.
“Why am I not surprised you’re the childish one?” I steel myself when Dave walks toward me. He takes my hand while Aiden growls.
“I want to talk. I came all this way—after everything we’ve been through—can we talk for a few minutes? Please?” Dave frowns.
He said please for probably the second time in his life.
The man I married.
We exchanged vows—vows that we meant to each other at one point, even if they don’t hold any weight now.
I won’t go crawling back to him.
I won’t use him as a crutch again.
I can’t forget all the hurtful things he’s called me, today and in the past, and I won’t. His name-calling and attitude are only a couple of the reasons we’re not together anymore, after all, so they’re nothing new. I’m not surprised, either, that he came here to shame me.
Which is why we need to talk. We need to put our history to rest, once and for all.
“Okay.” I slowly nod, and in my periphery, Aiden steels himself. “We’ll talk, but that’s it. No more harassing me—I mean it, Dave.”
“Harassing you? You’re my wife,” Dave says at the same time Aiden says, “I’m not leaving. Not this time. I’m not walking out of here without you.”
“I’m not your fucking wife,” I grind out, then turn to Aiden and whisper, “Go.”
“Are you kidding me?” Aiden walks toward me, his hands out, pleading.
“She said leave, asshole.” Dave steps between us.
“I didn’t sleep with those girls.” Aiden brushes past him, his eyes full of pain.
“What?” I stiffen.
“The girls in the pictures—I didn’t sleep with any of them. All I could think about was you.”
More he kept from me.
When I was already vulnerable back then, Aiden made me feel worse, and now he’s telling me it was a lie? That none of what his pictures suggested was real?
Dave scoffs, turning to me. “You can’t seriously believe him, can you? He’s only saying this to stop you from kicking his ass to the curb.”
“This is between me and her.” Aiden holds his hand up to stop him.
Everything hurts.
“Please go, Aiden.”
“Jersey—”
I squeeze my eyes closed. “Don’t… don’t call me that.”
Aiden drops his hands, his gaze searing into me, branding himself on my heart—but all I feel is the sting of it. “You’ll always be my Jersey, no matter what. This isn’t over.”
My chest aches.
Every fragile piece of my heart finally snaps. It was held together only by the thought of my second chance with him, but Aiden never said he tried to find me. He never told me he fought for me. Never explained about the pictures that haunted me each night.
What was his angle with the pictures, then? To make me jealous?
My stomach churns—I’m going to be sick.
The longer I look at him, the more crushed I am. Because when I look at him… all I can think about is the disgust and devastating disappointment I felt when I saw one smiling picture after another with a different woman every week.
While I carried—and lost—our baby.
Once the door shuts behind him, I almost forget Dave until he smirks.
He pushes his hip off the kitchen counter, his sullen expression from before now replaced with amusement. Like he’s won.
As if it’s ever been a competition between him and Aiden.
The truth is, I did settle. I settled because I was young and forced to make a decision I wasn’t emotionally equipped to make.
And it all could’ve been avoided if Aiden hadn’t run.
If he’d chased me… instead of running in the other direction.
“Why don’t we go out for dinner?” He eyes the ruined pasta, his lips curling. “Don’t think we’ll be able to eat here. We can go out to a nice meal and talk.”
“You just called me a whore, Dave, so no, I won’t be going anywhere with you. We can talk here.” I square my shoulders, steeling myself.
“You are fucking him.” The pain in his eyes almost makes me feel worse—he’s always been good at that. At making me feel like it’s always my fault.
But I haven’t done anything wrong, not now.
He shakes his head. “That was the one thing…” He swipes at the corners of his mouth and pa
uses. “The whole way up here—the last few months—I’ve been prepared to forgive you. I told myself not to care about what happened in the past, because it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because it was over between you and him, but now, you’ve been fucking him.”
“You and I are divorced, Dave. You have no right to be pissed or act like I’ve wronged you.”
“I don’t know how to forgive you for this,” he continues as though he doesn’t hear me.
“It’s over, Dave. If it’s closure you want, I’ll gladly give it to you, but other than that, it’s over—”
“What the fuck does that mean? We were married. You can’t throw that away.”
“We’re divorced, Dave,” I repeat more loudly, hoping he truly hears me this time. “You can’t keep contacting me like nothing’s changed since we first started dating in high school. Everything’s changed, mainly who we are.”
He shakes his head.
“Dave.” I place my hand on his forearm, but he jerks it away.
And the anger bubbles inside me.
“You spread nasty shit about me to all my clients. You yelled at me in the middle of a grocery store. Did you forget all that? You made me feel this small.” I hold my thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “You humiliated me in front of half the town. That’s not how you treat the people you claim to care about.”
“I said I was sorry for everything, and I came all this way to apologize for that and so many things. You’d think you could appreciate that. I mean, what the hell else do you want?”
“I want you to stop being a dick,” I spit.
“I’m the dick? That’s rich. Compared to Aiden, I’m a fucking saint.” He puts his hands on his hips.
“It was never a comparison.” My shoulders fall, hoping the truth lifts the cloak that’s blinded him all these years. “I fell for Aiden in college, and I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger. That I didn’t tell you the truth before we got married. I was selfish—”
“Damn right.”
“I deserve that.” I sigh, steadying my voice, and put my hands up, praying for him and for strength. “But don’t pretend like you’re not also to blame. We both made mistakes.”
He scoffs.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me back then. You were my rock, my hope. You made me see the light. And I’m sorry for not telling you the truth sooner… But it’s in the past.” I lick my lips. “I don’t owe you my future. So stop holding it over my head like a damn debt that’ll never be repaid.” I lower my voice. “Don’t text me anymore. Don’t call. Don’t guilt me into thinking our divorce was all my fault. Just don’t.”
“Sage, I’ve loved you since we were sixteen. I don’t know… forget it.” He turns on his heel and stomps toward the door.
I gulp, hurt from the way things exploded between us, and all we’re left with now are shattered hearts.
With shaking hands, I pick up the notebook Dave brought with him. I must’ve forgotten it at our old house when I hurriedly packed my things.
“You know…” He pauses, his hand on the doorknob, then looks over his shoulder at me. “What makes you think Aiden is the one for you?”
Emotion clogs my throat.
“How can you trust him? Because the girl I know… the one who wrote those”—he nods to my notebook—“she’d never be naïve enough to think Aiden won’t abandon her again.”
Another tear falls as his words settle around me like debris. “You don’t know him.”
“I know him well enough to know that I’m not the one who should be kicked out of your life.” He shakes his head, roughly exhaling in defeat as he leaves my apartment.
And I know it’s the last I’ll hear from him.
Sadness seeps into my heart as if I already miss him, but as I sit on my couch, taking deep breaths, I realize it’s the comfort he provided that I’ll miss.
The truth is, no matter how awful he was, I could always count on him to be there for me. I knew that he’d stick by me. That he wouldn’t run off to Europe when things got difficult.
In my heart, I know that I’ll miss the security. The certainty of knowing he’ll be there when I’m alone. When the darkness gets to me.
I peer down at the notebook in my shaking hands. Bile rises up my throat, and before I know it, I sprint to the bathroom. My head in the toilet, I heave.
I try to catch my breath, but my stomach cramps as I continue throwing up.
Once I think I’m finished, I sit back on my heels and reach for a towel out of the cabinet to wipe my mouth.
Inhaling, I brace myself as I stand on wobbly feet. I splash water from the sink on my face, drinking some of it in the process.
I make my way back into the living room, where my notebook is face down on the floor. Picking it up, I read the poem on the page.
This is the first time I’m reading any since I wrote them. I sink onto the couch, my stomach growing more and more queasy as I turn page after page, and the fear inside me grows too.
The shadows of the trees dance in the moonlight.
The air hums.
Still I lie as they taunt me.
As nothing but empty groans sound from my stomach,
with the faint whispers of a heartbeat
only in my memories.
Through blurry vision, I keep reading, poem after poem, line after line, until my tears spill onto the pages and smudge the ink.
Inhaling, I curl onto the couch with the book in my hands, my body aching, suffocating from what Aiden said.
Was it all a cruel game to him? To get back at me for what he thought he saw when Dave kissed me?
Eight years ago, Aiden disappeared, and I lost part of myself.
That’s what happened when I lost my baby—I lost part of my own heart and soul.
And Aiden… the man I thought could take away the heartache.
He left, and I’ve spent years wondering how he could do that so easily.
“How can you trust him?”
Fear and confusion grip me as my chest heaves, and my sobs fill the apartment.
I don’t know the answer to that anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Six
AIDEN
I throw the covers off and pace my loft. It’s the middle of the night, and I have only my thoughts and the whispers of her cries to keep me company.
I sense her sobs in my soul.
If I stay quiet enough, I might hear them like a ghost haunts the living. I should’ve gone back. I shouldn’t have let her kick me out—we should’ve talked.
I should’ve told her everything from the start.
I should’ve groveled and pleaded and begged her to accept my apology that I didn’t explain sooner. And fucking Dave… how were we friends once? What kind of person treats someone as good as Sage like he has? One look at him, and my skin crawled.
He’s a fool.
And me? I’m an even bigger fool.
I spent years and the first few weeks of her back in my life, resenting her for marrying Dave. I spent so much time thinking I was wronged and hurt by her when it was me.
I drove her to him without realizing it.
And those fucking pictures… I posted them because I knew she’d see them. And for what? My childish games to get revenge on the one girl I really cared about. That’s why it hurt that much more to see her kiss Dave.
To see her in another man’s arms when I thought she was finally going to choose me.
But looking back, I was immature. A coward.
I hang my head, defeated and angry, so fucking angry at myself.
I trudge back to my bed, but my emotions keep me up the rest of the night.
I toss and turn.
Get up and drink a beer.
Stare at the ceiling.
I curse—a lot—until the sun rises, bright and shining, like it’s taunting me.
My sour mood only grows worse as I drag myself to work. Did I brush my teeth? Did I even put clean clothes on? I s
tare down at my pants, trying to figure out where they came from—the bathroom floor or the dryer?
When I step inside our office, Jared’s the first person I come across. “What happened to you? You look worse than a gorilla’s ass.”
“The fuck, man?” I growl, tucking my hair behind my ears.
“Forget your haircut? Again?” Jared raises his eyebrows, then stuffs a large chip in his mouth.
“Chips?” I challenge, shifting the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “It’s not even eight yet.”
I continue toward my office when my phone rings, the comforting name on the screen one I often see but not this early in the morning. “Avril? Is everything okay?”
“Of course, no need to start burning down cities yet.” She giggles on the other end.
“You know I would, though, right?” My shoulders relax a fraction.
“You’re my first call if I need that.” It makes me smile for the first time in the last twelve hours. My little sister has that effect on me. “We’re on our way to our final debate competition for the year.”
Suddenly, it makes sense why she’s calling first thing today. “And you need a pep talk?”
“Can you?” Her voice is small and innocent. Even though she’s a freshman in college, she sounds so much younger.
I lose more of the edge in my voice as I say, “Whoever you’re up against, you’ll beat them. You’re smart. Scrappy. And special. Don’t forget the three Ss.” She echoes me on the last line. “You’re ready, Avril.”
“Thanks, big brother.”
Westin knocks on my door and pops his head in.
“Listen, I need to run, but good luck today. Let me know how it goes.” I nod as she agrees and hangs up.
My hint of a smile turns into a full-on grimace as I rejoin my reality. Staring at Westin, I wait for him to speak. And the longer he stays silent, the more pissed I get.
“What?” I finally ask.
“Jared was right—you’re pissy. That was his word, not mine, but it seems accurate.”
I swivel in my chair to face my computer. “I’m pissy because you’re in my office first thing in the morning and don’t have anything to say.”
Unbreakable: A Salvation Society Novel Page 19
