“I JUST WANT TO FUCKING HATE YOU!”
I tip over my desk before picking up a chair and hurling it toward the bathroom door. It smashes to pieces, the door following suit. I don’t even recognize the strangled roar that escapes me as I drop down onto the only piece of furniture left in the room – the couch.
I take in the devastation that surrounds me, a perfect representation of the agony I feel, every minute of every day. I want her back so badly. With my elbows resting on my knees, I cradle my head in my hands, lost in my own despair. A captive of my own heartbreak. A prisoner of my godforsaken soul. A tear drips down onto my palm, and I finally give in, letting myself feel the crushing loss of, with only a bottle of Jack for comfort. It’s hours before I finally pass out - the oblivion of a drunken sleep, a sweet release from the torment that awaits me in my waking hours.
ADDI
Meanwhile
It’s been four weeks since I left everything behind in New York – my job, my apartment, Lily, and worst of all… Carter. I thought it would get easier as the days and weeks pass by, but it hasn’t. Every day I miss him more, and every day that I don’t hear his voice, a little part of me dies inside. A sick part of me hoped that he would fight for me, that he would text or call, or something, anything. I haven’t had a single message, voicemail or even a missed call from him. It hurts like hell, but I don’t know why I would expect anything different. I ripped his heart out and handed it to him on a platter before walking away from everything we had. That was one of the worst nights of my life.
The driver is talking to me, but I can’t understand what he’s saying, he just sounds like white noise in the distance. I feel both numb, and completely overwhelmed by the depth of my heartbreak. I’m sobbing uncontrollably, fighting every instinct I have to go running back to Carter, groveling on my knees for his forgiveness. My cruel words play over and over on a loop, and I hate myself more than I ever have. The familiar pull of the abyss is calling to me, where I don’t have to feel anything – a dark lonely place where neither love nor hate can exist. It’s been my safe haven over the years. A coping mechanism to stop the negative from pulling me under like a riptide. There have been a handful of times in my life over the past four years when I’ve contemplated what it would be like if the world stopped turning, if I jumped off the crazy train… if I just… stopped.
When we pull up at the airport, I grab my bags and slowly make my way inside, taking one last glimpse around me, at New York, before I find a new place to call home for a while, or maybe forever. Airports are crazy places, filled with so much joy and so much sadness. People saying goodbye to their loved ones as they embark on new adventures, and people welcoming their loved ones back with open arms and happy tears. It’s a lonely feeling when you’re surrounded by so much love, and none of it is for you. No one is going to come and wish me well on my journey. No one even knows I’m here, or where I’m going. I don’t even know the answer to that yet. As I reach the desk I realize just how bad I must look. All puffy eyes and mascara smudges.
“Are you alright, miss?”
“No… I mean yes, thank you. I’m just sad to be leaving.”
“And where are you traveling today? How can I help?”
“I don’t really know. Where is the next available flight going?” The recognition I see on her face kills me. “Within the U.S.”
“Let me check for you.” She quickly taps away on her keyboard, deciding the course of my life, without even knowing it. “The next flight leaves in half an hour, going to Delaware.”
“What about the next flight after that?”
She gives a light chuckle before going back to her screen. “Texas – Boarding in one hour.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know where in Texas? It’s a big State.”
“Not really. It doesn’t matter. I’ll take a one-way ticket, please.”
Her professional smile fades a little as she completes my request and hands me my boarding pass. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, miss. Enjoy your flight.”
“Thank you.” I move at a snail’s pace amongst the sea of people bustling through the airport, eager to reach their destinations.
It feels like the longest hour in the history of time, waiting to board. I am at war with myself the entire time, knowing that until I set foot on the plane and watch it taxi onto the runway, I still have time to change my mind, to try and repair the catastrophic damage I’ve caused. I find a corner to sit in, so as not to draw attention; silent tears rolling down my cheeks. I torture myself thinking about Carter – how is he feeling, what is he doing? Has he found someone to warm his bed for the night? I know that’s what he did when I slept with Colin. Things were so different back then, and the depth of feeling between us now is… was… so much more profound. I contemplate whether I will ever be able to see him again. If the baby looks like him, I’ll never be able to return to New York. If he was anyone else, maybe I could, but he’s not. Lily is married to Xander, and Carter’s been his best friend since birth. If he found out that the baby was his, and that I kept it from him, he would never forgive me. And rightly so.
Should I just be selfish and tell him? He says he doesn’t want kids, but maybe it would be different with me? Maybe he would thank me in years to come for giving him something he didn’t even realize he wanted? My heart begins to quicken, a kernel of hope in my spiraling confusion. And then his words come flooding back to me.
“There will be NO children in the near future, if at all. Just let us be. We’re happy just the two of us.”
“NO, Zia. Cazzo fai madonna. Non spaventarla.”
“God’s high five to men the world over, every month. You girls think we get upset that you are crabby and teary for a few days, when it’s actually the opposite. We’re just so fucking relieved that we haven’t gotten you pregnant, that we will put up with any level of crazy!”
Bile rises in my throat and make a mad dash to the restrooms. I barely reach it in time before watching the contents of my stomach spill over into a disgusting public toilet. I think I’ve hit rock-bottom. I really hope my life can’t get any worse than this. If I could curl into a ball and wait for death, I would. But the churning sickness in my stomach only serves to remind me that I’m not just responsible for me anymore. I need to do what’s right for my baby, for Carter’s baby. He or she is all I have left of him, and I will cherish that with every beat of my heart, with every breath that I take. I pull myself up off the floor, wash and freshen up, and then put my well-practiced mask firmly in place to get me through the flight.
When I arrive in Texas, I’m weary. I feel it in every bone of my body, in every fiber of my being. I switch my phone on just long enough to check Google for a decent hotel in the area. I hail a cab and make my way to the local Hilton, upset that my phone had no messages, and I know that’s selfish. Once I’ve checked in and gotten my key card, I make my way up to my modest room. As I open the door, it hits me just how different this is from my time spent with Carter in Italy. We were surrounded by beauty, love, and laughter. Now I am alone, pregnant, and broken-hearted. I let the full impact of what I’ve done sink in; crawling up onto the bed, using all my energy to pull back the crisp white sheets and cocoon myself inside of them. I’ve never cried so much in my life. I stay in the room for a week, without setting foot outside the door. The only time I leave the bed is to puke or open the door for room service. My face is permanently red and puffy, my eyelids are almost swollen shut, my nose hurts from endless tissues and I have a constant headache from the sheer exertion of crying. It’s only after a week of this that I find the strength to drag myself into the shower, and take a good long look at myself in the mirror. I can see the small changes in my body, the slight swell of my normally flat stomach, and the fullness of my breasts. It’s then that I pull myself out of my pity party and make a plan.
I need a job, an apartment, and a life.
The night I left, I sent Li
ly a text telling her that I would be traveling for a while and not to worry. She was still on her honeymoon and I didn’t want to worry her, or ruin it for her. As soon as she got back and found out from Carter what had happened between us, she inundated me with phone calls, texts, and countless voicemails begging me to contact her. When she found the note in my apartment, she left me a message sobbing her heart out, begging me to come back and sort things out. I haven’t been able to call her. It’s too painful, and still too raw. If I heard her voice right now I would confess everything and she would have me back in New York before I could blink. But I can’t ignore her, she’s my best friend, so I’ve taken to short emails, letting her know that I’m doing okay, and that I’ve made a friend here who keeps me sane with her brand of insanity. Her name is Sarah. She works at the same bar I’ve been working at since I arrived. She’s really nice and she knows a little of my situation, but never judges.
I don’t know why I chose Texas – maybe because Lily grew up here before she moved to New York… or maybe because it was the next flight out after Delaware! Either way, I feel like I still have a part of my best friend with me as I take in the sights and smells of the city, wondering what her life was like here with her dad.
She always replies to my emails within ten minutes of receiving them, always signing off with the same heartfelt plea – please come home, Addi. I miss you and I love you. It makes me cry every time, and it doesn’t help that my hormones are all over the place.
I’m three months along and the pregnancy is going well. I’m eating healthily, nurturing our baby growing inside me in any way I can. I’ve found a nice local doctor who’s been monitoring the progress of me and the baby, giving me regular check-ups and my first ultrasound. Seeing the baby for the first time on the monitor was unbelievably emotional; being able to see what Carter and I created together. I feel so close to him when I lie my hand on the almost imperceptible bump of my stomach. I find myself lying for hours at a time, remembering his touch, his voice, the way he loved me with everything he had. It’s gotten easier to do that. At first I was so distraught I couldn’t hold onto the memories for any length of time. I was worried I was forgetting everything, except the hole in my chest where my heart used to be; the heart I left in New York, with him. Not thinking about him was worse than thinking about him, so eventually I let myself feel, let myself remember, and now those quiet moments are what I cherish most.
I have a cute little one-bedroom apartment close to the bar. It’s not a palace by any stretch of the imagination, but it has everything I need. The town is small, and everybody knows everybody. I grew up knowing that these sorts of towns exist, with populations barely reaching into the thousands, but this is the first time I’ve actually experienced it firsthand. It’s comforting to be taken in and accepted by everyone, especially when you’re on your own and trying to make a home for yourself. My co-workers are great, Sarah and I are usually on shift together so we have some laughs to pass the time. We’ve become quite the team now, and the regulars love our crazy banter. Sarah helped train me, teaching me how to pull the perfect beer, how to make cocktails, and pretty much everything else that comes with the job. Having never worked a bar before, I am so grateful that they took a chance on me. I’m a quick study too, so I had it all down pat in less than a week.
My manager Hank is an eternal flirt, quite a bit older, and super protective of me and my bump. Gladly I’m not really showing yet, but I thought it best to tell him straight off the bat. He’s like my own personal bouncer. Whenever a customer gets a little over friendly, or the place gets a bit rowdy, he’s there in a heartbeat, watching over me, looking out for me. He’s become like a brother in the few weeks I’ve known him.
When I’m not working, I’m reading up on pregnancy, the do’s and don’ts, and what to expect when it comes to the birth. It’s sad reading about the things you and ‘your partner’ can do together, knowing that I will have to face the biggest moment of my life alone. It terrifies me. It makes me want to run back to Carter, beg for his forgiveness and confess the real reason I left. But every time I find myself staring at his number, I remind myself why I did what I did. I wanted him to have the life he wants, the life he deserves. Kids were never part of his plan, and I couldn’t corner him and force it on him. I tried that with Gavin and look how that turned out. Two days after Gavin found out I was pregnant, I wasn’t pregnant anymore… just the way he wanted it.
I lie awake at nights thinking about that baby. What it would have looked like, whether it would have been a boy or a girl, would it have looked like me? Questions I will never know the answers to. I was young and naïve, not strong enough to stand up for what I wanted. I wasn’t ready to be a mom, but I would have worked it out; I would have done my very best to be a great mom for my baby, but I never got the chance. That’s why I just couldn’t terminate this pregnancy. I never planned to have kids, especially after what happened with Gavin, but as soon as I knew that a life was growing inside me, a life that Carter and I created together, in love, I felt like a mom.
The hardest thing I have ever done, was walk away from Carter. Any of life’s trials that may come my way from this point on will never be as brutal as that moment. I would take a thousand beatings from Gavin before I would want to relive telling Carter I didn’t love him. I needed for him to believe me, but at the same time, I wanted to scream at him – HOW COULD YOU DOUBT MY LOVE FOR YOU, EVEN FOR A SECOND? It’s something I’ve struggled with every night as I lie my head down on the pillow, next to an empty space, where he belongs. Every night is the same, falling asleep with tears dripping down onto the soft cotton sheets, as I let myself remember his touch, his smell, and the way I felt when I was in his arms, warm, safe and content.
CARTER
“This has got to fucking stop… now.”
“You don’t have to shout, Xander. For fuck’s sake.”
“I’m not shouting. You’re just so hung over that a fucking fly would sound loud to you right now.”
I open my eyes to take in my surroundings. Shit. I completely trashed my office last night and then slept on the goddamn couch. Could I be any more pathetic?
“Come on. You’re coming back to my place.”
“You don’t have to do that man.”
“Well, apparently I do. You don’t seem to be getting your shit together by yourself, so hurry the fuck up and let’s go.”
“I need to clean this place up first.”
“No, you don’t. I’ve already organized for one of the staff to do it, and I’ve offered them double pay to keep it quiet.”
My body sags, exhausted from trying to deal with everything alone for the past month. “Okay. Thanks, Xander.” I follow him out, a living breathing zombie. A shadow of my former self.
His car is parked out front and I literally crawl into the back of the big SUV, passing out as soon as my face hits the cool black leather seats. It must only be a ten-minute drive to Xander and Lily’s apartment from the club, but I’m jolted awake by the door opening and the sun streaming in.
“Fuck.”
I stumble into their building, Xander propping me up in the elevator to stop me from collapsing under the weight of my own body. When the door swings open, I’m greeted with the sight of Lily pacing the floor, worry etched on her brow. She turns to see me, limp and pathetic at her husband’s side.
“Oh my God, Carter.” She rushes over and pulls me into a tight, heartfelt hug. “I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay? Come and sit down. I’ll make you something to eat.”
My voice is a gruff whisper. “I can’t eat anything right now. Maybe I could just have a shower and crash for a bit? Sorry to put you out like this.”
Her tiny, warm hand cups my cheek, caressing it with her thumb. It’s a tender gesture and I appreciate the show of affection. “You’re not putting us out. I’m glad you’re here. Anything you need, Carter, honestly. I’ll go get some towels and put the shower on in the guest bathroom for you
. It’ll just take a minute. I’ll be right back.”
As I watch her scurry off down the hall, my heart aches, remembering her and Addi together. She’s hurting, too, and it’s my fault. I pushed her best friend to leave everything behind. She couldn’t even stand to stay in the same State as me. I should have been the one to go. To let her keep her life and her friends here in New York. I hate to think of her, wherever she is, alone, with nothing of her former life to hold on to.
Xander comes over with an espresso held out to me. “Think you might need this. I’m not coming in the shower with you to keep you upright. I love you, man, but I draw the fucking line at that.”
I manage a small laugh before gulping down the steaming hot shot of coffee. “Understood.” Lily appears, telling me the room is ready, and that she’s laid out some of Xander’s clothes for me to change into after my shower. “I can’t thank you enough, Lil. I really appreciate everything you guys have put up with from me over the past few weeks.”
“We’re not just friends, Carter, we’re family. Don’t ever forget that.” With a nod and a strained smile, I head down the hall and into the guest room.
I strip off my clothes, thinking I should just burn them after last night. The thought of that girl all over me, and calling her that, fuck, it makes my skin crawl. I throw them into the laundry bin before stepping into the shower. No amount of water can wash away how gross I feel. I’ve fucked a lot of women in my life, for a lot of different reasons, but I have never tried to pretend they were someone else. And I have NEVER called anyone Tesoro before. It was special, just for Addi, and last night I turned it into something dirty and meaningless.
As I let the water wash over me, I think back over the past four weeks. I’ve done and said so many things that I’m not proud of; used so many women. Let everything around me, including my friendships, crumble. I am a fucking sorry excuse for a man at the moment. No wonder Addi ran away.
Relentless - Manhattan Knights Series Book Two Page 18
