“Not right now, Mum. I just want to try and get some sleep.” I shook my head, unable to talk about it. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here for.” I thought it would be a few days, but when I thought about going back to the house I shared with Jasmine, I didn’t want to go back.
“Jackson, you take all the time you need. This is your home.” She reminded. I already knew that this was home. It always would be. “Would you like a hot cup of tea? Perhaps a hot chocolate with a couple of marshmallows, how you always like it?” she offered, always the caretaker.
I smiled the best I could. “I’m good, Mum. Go back to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning, yes?”
I met her halfway for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Ok, dear. Sweet dreams.” She closed the door, leaving me alone with my own thoughts.
Stripping to my fitted white boxers, I pulled back the navy doona cover and climbed into the cold bed. Resting there, I stared at the glow in the dark space stickers on the ceiling that Mum had forgotten about. I just lay there, thinking about how my night had gone from good to a living a nightmare. I waited for the pain in my chest to subside.
It never did.
Finally, I rolled over and forced my eyes shut, trying to welcome sleep.
I knew it was past midday when I finally woke up. The sun was roaring hot through the windows was an easy tell-tale sign… that, and the sound of Mr Thompson next door mowing his lawn, a usual Saturday afternoon activity for him. For a moment, I began to wonder why I was in my old room until I fully came around and the dreaded ache in the pit of my stomach sunk in.
My heart ached once more. I had to face my parents. I was hoping my sister wasn’t here. She never hid her obvious dislike for Jasmine. She would always deny it, but the eye rolling and not so coy way she left the room whenever she walked in, gave it away.
Forcing myself upright, I tossed off the covers once my morning wood had subsided and got out of bed. I didn’t bother putting clothes, keeping just a pair of white fitted boxer shorts, as the bathroom was directly across from my room. Trying to get there and back before my mother realised I was awake was a piece of cake.
Hot water ran down my back as I leant forwards, my head rested against the shower wall. I felt sick, physically and emotionally sick. I rubbed both my eyes. They stung, but I would never admit it was from crying. Taking a palmful of body wash, I lathered it into my chest, working lower as I washed. My hand was around my flaccid cock when I stilled. Thoughts ran wild through my mind, pondering if it would be that easy to just go out and fuck someone else.
My hand dropped, but I brought them both back up to rinse the tiny, white bubbles from my chest and proceeded to wash my hair. I couldn’t do it. More importantly, I didn’t want to go out and screw another woman.
I wasn’t that kind of guy. I wish I were, but I couldn’t think of another woman right now, let alone get a stiff dick. How fucked up was that.
The bitch really screwed me over well and good.
Dad and Mum were sitting at the round wooden dining table when I walked out to them. The scent of a pot roast filled my nostrils. I could tell they were both watching me cautiously, and I wondered what Mum had told Dad.
My game face was on, and I had to act as if things were ok.
My mouth watered as I peered into the beef and vegetables cooking away slowly. She was possibly the best cook ever. “Smells good, as always.”
“Sit down, dear. I’ll make you some sandwiches.” She smiled, standing from her seat at the table. “Did you sleep well?”
Barely, I thought to myself. “Yes.” I took the seat opposite Dad and sat back. “Nice day.” I glanced out the window. Luckily, I had grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of shorts in my hasty pacing.
Dad peered up from his paper, taking notice of the window and nodding in agreement. “It is.” He paused a moment, rubbing his chin. “Would you like to talk about it?”
I knew the questions would come. I didn’t mind them. I just didn’t know how well I can answer what they wanted to know. “Thanks, Dad, but I’m good for now.”
“I mean it. We’re always here to listen, Jackson.” Mum added in, obviously keeping a close ear on our conversation.
Exhaling as I sat forwards with a shrug. “There isn’t much to talk about. She went out and screwed another guy. I ended it, and here I am.”
No sugar coating it. I was straight to the point.
A loud noise filled the room, making Dad and I both turn and look at Mum who had slammed the knife into the wooden chopping board so hard that it left a mark. “She did what?” She bellowed, her eyes wide. “Jasmine was having an affair?”
Oh, Jesus. I didn’t know. Probably, who knew? I didn’t.
“She said it was just once. I don’t know anything else.” Except it was in a bathroom and she loved it.
She looked on the verge of picking up her keys and heading over there as she gritted her teeth with a grind. “Why that little—”
“It’s fine, Mum.” I cut her off before she lost a tooth.
“Jackson, she cheated on you. How dare she hurt my baby boy like this?” Her anger turned into despair. “I can’t believe she would do this.” Once the exasperated sigh came, she gave me the look of pity I didn’t want. “Oh, sweetheart, how are you doing?”
For fuck’s sake. I really didn’t need to be treated as if I were on the verge of a breakdown. “Mum,” I cut in once again. “Please, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.” I just wanted to forget.
Dad cleared his throat, catching my attention. “You know.” He proclaimed with enthusiasm. “The best way to get over a girl is by rubbing a few out. Well, it’ll take some of the pain away at least.”
I didn’t know what was worse, being coddled by my mother or having my dad tell me to jerk one off.
I was unable not to grin as I shook my head at him. “Great advice, Dad, but this is probably not really the time and place for that.” I wasn’t going to do that, not with my mother keeping such a close eye on me.
“Troy, I think you need to watch your table manners.” Mum scolded as she brought over a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches and placed a kiss on my cheek as she rubbed her hand over my hair. She’s patting me as if I were a small boy needing praise to eat all my lunch up. “Eat your lunch, dear. There’s a girl out there who’s just waiting for you, and she wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”
I scowled as I picked up a half sandwich cut. That was the last thing on my mind. “Mum, it hasn’t even been a day.” I dropped the sandwich again, the hunger I felt long gone. “Let’s just talk about something else.”
My mother ignored my wishes and reached over, rubbing my forearm with a squeeze. “She wasn’t good enough for you. I think you were blinded by beauty, with all that make-up… That’s how they get men, by trapping them.” She sounded sure of herself. “I never liked her much anyway.”
I gave Dad a pointed look, waiting for him to jump in and help me out. He sat back quietly as he reads the paper, but I knew he was listening.
“Mum, please,” I pleaded. “I know once Lauren turns up, she’ll put in her two cents, and then you both can have a good bitch session about Jasmine. But for now, I’d like to eat and not talk about it.”
I just wanted to eat and then go back to bed.
My phone had been charging since last night, and I was very tempted to reach for it and check the messages. I wondered if she would have called, but what difference would it make? What was done was done, and there wasn’t any changing that. Would reading a message from her change things? No. I left the phone alone and slumped back down on the bed.
Colt was outside running around while Mum was pegging out the washing. I thought about what she said. Maybe Jasmine’s look had blinded me to what was really going on. I had done everything for her to keep her happy, but how happy was I really?
All that small digs, and I still did not get the drift. Christmas was spent with her parents, instead of mine, and even then, it wasn’t a
fun time. She rarely wanted to visit my parents, which often caused tension when she would reluctantly agree. Most of the time, she would be on the couch with her phone in hand.
Screw it.
I picked up my iPhone and scanned the texts I got from her. I deleted them without reading. I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Tapping on the photos icon, I went through the album filled with photos of her. My thumb lingered above delete all, but I couldn’t do it. I should have deleted them, but I couldn’t do it. I needed her out of my life. I needed a fresh start and to move on.
I had no clue how to do that, though.
My door flung open hard, rattling the lamp beside me. I knew who it was without having to look.
“Lauren,” I said with a smirk, placing the phone back down, my voice kept low. “Forgotten how to knock?”
She sat on the end of my bed with a plonk, flicking me on the leg with her finger. “Dad did warn me that you may be having some self-love, and I didn’t walk in to see you reliving your teenage years.”
“Yet, you took the chance anyway.” I pointed out, drawing my leg back as she tried to flick it again. “Did you just come here to annoy me? I’m not in the mood.”
“You are grumpy,” she sighed. “Well, I overheard the news, and I wanted to know if you’d be ok with me going over there and pushing her head through a window… or a door. Either is fine.” Overheard my ass. Her smile grew. “Or, I could do both.”
My eyes met hers, and I realised she wasn’t kidding around. “I wouldn’t waste my energy on her,” I sighed. I sat up, my back propped up by soft cushioned pillows against the wooden headboard. “I know what you’re going to say, so just say it…” I knew they all wanted to say it. “I told you so.”
“Jackson…” She began softly. “I’m sorry she cheated on you. I know you loved her a lot.”
Loved. Past tense. I still love her. That was the worst part.
I didn’t know what to say. “Yes, I know. When you and Theo broke up, how long did you sit around and cry for?” They had dated five years, and I remembered her crying, screaming, and then crying again for months on end. None of us saw that relationship ending.
“He never cheated, though. He just moved away, and it ended.” Her voice grew soft, and I wondered if there was more to the story than she let on. “Anyway, maybe now you’re able to go and do all the things that you gave up when you moved in with her?”
“Like?” I asked curiously. Had I stopped doing things?
Lauren began to laugh, shaking her head and sitting up she ran a hand through her dark brown hair. She was pulling it back into a ponytail as she eagerly went into her list of what Jack no longer does. “Like everything—going to the park, running, or even just going out with your friends. If you weren’t working, you’re always with Jasmine at the house doing what?”
Obviously not having sex. “I don’t know.”
“You were playing Xbox to kill the boredom,” she said in a scolding tone, raising a brow.
I groaned. She made me seem so much more pathetic. “I hate you.”
“You hate me because I’m right. Look on the plus side. You can always move in with Paul and I. That’s if you get sick of Mum babying you, which I doubt.” She teased, poking her tongue out.
“I like how Mum is.” I defended. She may have babied me more than Lauren, but I didn’t mind. I was the youngest, and in her words, I was her baby boy… a big mama’s boy. “She looks after me.”
Lauren let out a laugh. “You need a woman who dotes on you, loves, and spoils you then. Maybe I’ll set you up when you’re ready,” she paused, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief, “with someone just like Mum.”
That was a mental image I didn’t care for. “Have I told you to fuck off? Please do so.”
Her laughter grew louder as she slapped my thigh once more. “Kidding. I have some great friends who think you’re a total babe.”
“If they’re anything like you, then I’ll pass.” I teased back, giving her a kick with my foot. My smile soon began to fade, and I shrugged, leaning forwards with both elbows resting down on my knees. “I don’t want to be with anyone.”
It didn’t take much longer for the silence to eat me up. The memories soon began to seep their way into my mind, and I started thinking again. Maybe we could work this out. She told me the truth right away, after all. What if I eventually forgave her? Could I go back and try again? Maybe this was just a bump in the road for us.
Sighing, I rubbed my eyes, willing the tears to fuck off. “You think she regrets it?” I couldn’t look at her.
“Do you think she does?” she asked back, moving so she now lay down beside me on the bed.
It was a simple question, but the answer was much harder. “Maybe she does. Maybe we could get through it. It’s two years just thrown away over one night, over a mistake she made. I mean, she didn’t know him.”
“Jack,” she whispered, rolling to her side and reaching for my hand, “she slept with someone else. Even if you took her back, there is no way you could forgive her. You would always be questioning yourself, doubting her. The trust is long gone.
“I had a ring. I wanted to marry her. I thought she wanted that.” Isn’t it what all girls wanted, the big diamond rock?
My confession caught her off guard. “I had no idea you were that serious about her.”
“Of course, I was serious.” Christ. “I’ll sell it or something.” I couldn’t keep it. “What a waste of fucking money.”
“You could keep it… in case you do forgive her. Don’t do anything rash.” We both looked towards the door when we heard Mum scolding Colt for getting into the roast meat she left out to slice. “At least Colt is keeping Mum busy.”
I had to agree, it kept her from trying to get answers out of me like during lunch. “True.”
“How do you feel about her?” she asked softly, and I knew she was referring to Jasmine.
“I still love her.” Saying the words aloud felt like bile coming up my throat. “Why do I still love her? If she can do that so easily, why do I still love her?”
“Because we always love the people who hurt us the most.”
CHAPTER FOUR
My eyes stung when they finally opened.
The sun was beaming through the windows, and I had to immediately close my eyes again. Mum had opened the curtains before I woke up, her way of telling me to get my arse out of bed and get up at a decent hour today.
Half asleep, I was yawning loudly as a ringing came from my phone. I groaned and frowned. Whoever that was could fuck off. I wanted to sleep. That moment, my mind cleared up and realised it wasn’t a call.
My alarm was going off. Dumbass. I cursed myself.
It was too early for any kind of functioning.
I was tempted to call in sick as I let my alarm play but decided against it as I sat up and silenced the thing.
Colt came barrelling through the bedroom door and straight up jumped to me. His tongue was sticking out, and I could smell the stench of fresh dog food from his breath. Rubbing my hand through his soft coat of brown fur, I smiled. “What do you think, work or stay home and sleep?”
He licked my hand and jumped further onto the bed. A huge dog, a six-foot man, and a double bed. Yes, the nights were cramped for sure. It was comfortable, though. That was if I stayed still with my feet hanging off the edge of the bed as Colt kept my legs pinned, sleeping over them.
Nuzzling his nose against my neck, I let out a laugh. “Alright, work it is.”
Work would be good. I needed the distraction. I welcomed anything to take my mind off her.
The moment I stood up, he lay down on my spot and got comfortable. “That’s why you wanted me gone, huh? To have the bed to yourself.” I grinned, giving him another rub on the tummy. “Be good for Nanna.”
Searching the suitcase for my suit, I frowned when I pulled them out and realised I should have hung them out two days ago instead of keeping them in there as if I was goi
ng camping.
There was only one option for me. “Mum, do you think you could plug in the iron for me?”
“What for?” She was already up and cooking by the smell of it. She had her purple slippers on and old gown as she padded down the hall just as I was making my way out holding the clothes. “Oh, no. Let me get the press out. Go shower. I’ve got this dear.”
I handed them over, relieved I didn’t have to do it myself. Not that I couldn’t. I just didn’t really want to.
Contrary to what Jasmine thought, I did take pride in my appearance. I wasn’t unfit, as I spent most mornings jogging around the block or evenings at the gym after work, pumping iron and gaining muscle. I had always been athletic at school and continued to be so. My hair was always done, unless it didn’t need to be, and those were the days I enjoyed chilling out.
After a shower and a shave, I was good to go. When I opened the bathroom door, my suit was neatly hanging by the door in my room. Even my tie was out, and my shoes were freshly buffed.
“Are you sure you can’t take a day off?” Mum asked when I ventured out, dressed for work. She was dishing up a plate of eggs and bacon with grey rollers in her hair. “You need a few days to yourself.”
Ha, I wish. “I’ve got clients, Mum. I can’t just drop them. Plus, I’ve got a busy day of meetings ahead.” I lied. She didn’t need to know that there was no meeting with clients and that most of my day would involve sitting at my desk, on the phone, and organising paperwork ready for clients to sign and then send them off to the bank for a mortgage loan approval.
Sounds boring, right?
I enjoyed it, though. Well, most of the time. There were times when I had to tell a client their application has been declined, and that went either way, but it was a rare occasion. Once, a guy tried to take a swing at me over a rejection. I was more than happy to submit another one; it would mean more money in my pocket, but the defaults on his credit checks weren't doing him any favours.
Dad walked in, wearing a pair of old, paint-splattered jeans and a jumper. “Working around the house today?” I asked, taking a sip of fresh, hot coffee.
His Rebound Love Page 3
