Just Jilted

by Lila James

  “I always told him to stop eating so terribly,” she said when we were situated back in the waiting room. “But he’s s so stubborn. He—he—”

  Mom’s voice caught in her throat, and she leaned forward, resting her head in her palms.

  “I suppose he’s Janet’s problem now,” Mom sniffed, straightening. She froze, staring at something on the opposite side of the waiting room. I followed her gaze.

  Marcus hovered by the waiting room entrance, looking nervous and oddly unkempt. I got to my feet, stunned, as he approached.

  “I called you to let you know the second part of the deposit finally came in from the landlord. When I didn’t hear from you right away, I got a little worried and called Liz. She told me what happened. How is he?”

  I gave him Dad’s prognosis, and he looked relieved. I couldn’t help but check over his shoulder every once in a while to see if Jackson had returned yet.

  “And you?” Marcus persisted, as I snuck another glance over his shoulder. “How are you?”

  “Better,” I said, giving him a small smile.

  “Good,” Marcus said, holding my gaze. Mom cleared her throat in an obvious manner.

  “I’m going to get coffee. Anyone want anything?” she asked. Marcus and I shook our heads, and she left.

  “I was really scared at first,” I said, wiping away a tear that appeared out of nowhere. “I didn’t understand how much I needed him until I thought I was going to lose him.”

  “I understand. I was freaked myself. I’ve always liked your dad. He’s the one person who agrees with me that the New York Yankees are overrated,” he said sheepishly.

  I laughed, looking up at the familiar, handsome face that I had once loved so much. But my laugher choked on a half sob and Marcus stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting embrace. While I didn’t experience nearly the same rush I felt whenever Jackson was in my line of vision, a soothing warmth filled me. This was the man I almost married, whom I’d been in love with, whom at one point had been my best friend. For a moment, I was able to forget how bitterly it all ended, and I let myself be comforted by the familiar.

  While I was in Marcus’s arms, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle, as if I were being watched. I stiffened in Marcus’s arms and turned to the entrance of the waiting room, but no one was there.

  “You OK?” Marcus asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied, scanning the entrance of the waiting room.

  Marcus waited with Mom and me for a few more hours. Janet remained with Dad, coming out periodically to get coffee or go to the restroom. The whole time, Mom and Janet remained civil. I wanted to stay at the hospital all night, but my eyes became droopy and my head was doing that embarrassing thing where it dropped abruptly to the side as I nodded off. When I wasn’t nodding off, I kept sneaking glances at the entrance, hoping that Jackson would come back.

  “You’re drooling, Adrian,” Mom said around midnight. “You should go home. Your father won’t be up until morning anyway.”

  “I want to stay,” I protested. “I want to be here the moment he wakes up.”

  “I live close by,” Marcus said. “You could crash at my place, be back here first thing. I’m literally two blocks away.”

  Spending the night with an ex—no matter how platonic the circumstances—was never a good idea. But I knew I was officially past my feelings for Marcus, and I did want to be close by.

  “OK,” I agreed, getting to my feet as I stifled a yawn. “Will you keep me posted with any updates, Mom?”

  “Of course,” Mom said, looking past me at Marcus. I could tell she was not happy about me spending the night with him.

  Marcus and I headed out. Marcus reached out to steady me as I swayed a little bit from fatigue. I was surprised at how little his touch affected me, when only a few weeks ago the mere sight of him flooded me with so many old emotions. Now he seemed little more than a close friend whom I’d been out of touch with for a while.

  We took a cab to his apartment due to my exhaustion, even though it turned out he did live really close to the hospital. I was too drowsy to notice much about his apartment when we entered, only that it was a rather spacious one bedroom and his taste in furniture was rather tacky—I hadn’t let him decorate our apartment much and now I could remember why. Marcus led me into the bedroom, telling me he would sleep on the couch. I think I protested, insisting that I would take the couch, but I was so beat, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The Real Goodbye

  As soon as I woke up, I looked around in alarm. Marcus lie next to me, snoring loudly with his mouth open. For a horrifying moment I wondered if I’d slept with Marcus in a grief-stricken haze of panic.

  “We didn’t do anything,” Marcus mumbled, his eyes opening as he took in my expression. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “But that horrified look on your face is flattering. Thanks.”

  We were both fully clothed—me in my street clothes and Marcus in his familiar Star Wars pajamas that I’d constantly teased him about. We had been in bed countless times before with a lot less clothing, but things were different now, and I felt a little embarrassed as I got out of bed.

  “I told you I would sleep on the couch, but you insisted. You even slung your arm around my neck, like you used to, and made me sleep next to you,” Marcus said, ducking his head low.

  Apparently sleepiness had the same effect on me as too much wine.

  “Sorry,” I said after a brief pause.

  “It’s OK,” he said, looking up at me with a smile that once made my insides melt. “Your mom called way early, and—”

  “She called?”

  “I picked up because you were still dead to the world and it may have been important. She just wanted me to let you know that your dad was still sleeping, so you don’t have to rush back to the hospital right away. He’s looking great and stable. He should be up later today, and they’re looking to release him in the next day or so.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I said, my shoulders sinking with relief.

  “Let me make you breakfast. I have to work later, but I’ll walk you over to the hospital before I go in. I insist.”

  I smiled at Marcus. This was one of the dangerous things about spending time with an ex: I was reminded of all the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place. I was thankfully immune to him, however, due to my unrequited love for Jackson.

  I followed Marcus into the kitchen, where he proceeded to make pancakes and scrambled eggs. Marcus was definitely the one who cooked a lot at our old apartment, something he seemed to enjoy doing. I wondered if Jackson cooked, though he hardly seemed the type.

  “Um, did anyone else call?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Don’t think so. Just your mom. Were you expecting someone?” Marcus asked, rummaging through his cabinets.

  “No, not really. Just wondering,” I lied.

  “The boyfriend?” Marcus asked, looking at me with a pained half smile.

  “No. Not at all.”

  “And none of my business. Sorry,” Marcus said, grinning ruefully as he poured egg whites onto a pan on the stovetop.

  “You’re right,” I teased, taking a seat at the small table. I took in his spacious apartment. “How’d you find this place?”

  “Gabrielle knew someone,” Marcus said. I smiled and nodded, only feeling the tiniest flicker of annoyance. My love for Jackson had apparently nipped that whole insane jealousy thing in the bud.

  “Are you still seeing her?” I asked, only mildly curious.

  “No. We’re just friends now,” Marcus said, sneaking a glance at me out of the corner of his eye. I did feel a small bit of satisfaction at this news.

  Marcus finished making us breakfast, waving off my offers of help, telling me that he didn’t want me to burn down this kitchen. He plopped down next to me at the table.

  “I’m sorry I was so harsh on you, when you contacted me again,�
� I said quietly. “I feel bad now for asking you not to come to Dad’s wedding. He’s always liked you, in spite of everything.”

  “Don’t apologize for anything. What I did to you was unforgivable,” Marcus said, shaking his head with regret.

  “Why did you start contacting me again?”

  “I missed you. A whole lot. I know I had no right, but I wasn’t thrilled you were seeing someone else. I felt like I needed to see you. To make sure you were doing OK after what I did. And I just wanted to be around you again.”

  I met his gaze, remembering how once upon a time, I had so desperately wanted to hear those words. Now they only brought a sense of closure.

  “I missed you, too. A whole lot. After I was done being ferociously angry at you,” I said with a hint of a smile.

  “Nothing less than what I deserve.”

  “And the whole kissing someone else thing didn’t help,” I added with a stitch of bitterness.

  I took a breath to calm myself. Another reason to not spend time with the ex: the inevitable dredging up of bad blood. But for some reason, I felt it necessary to get all of this out. It was like the exorcism of the demons of our relationship.

  “Guilty as charged,” Marcus replied, his face flaming.

  “The jilting thing wasn’t pleasant, either,” I continued as Marcus grimaced. “It hurt like hell. That’s why I ran from the church like that. I had to get away from you.”

  “I know, I know,” Marcus groaned, putting his head in hands. “I have the worst timing in the world. The worst. When I came to see you right before the wedding, I hadn’t made up my mind to not go through with our wedding. Yes, doubts had been nagging at me. And I should have talked to you. But when I saw you in that beautiful dress, I realized how ridiculous all my doubts were, and I was going to turn around to meet you at the altar. Until I looked at your face and saw your expression. Do you remember?”

  I nodded slowly, letting myself recall the moments I had been so desperate to forget.

  I paced back and forth in the back room of the church, my heart racing, on the verge of vomiting. Panicked thoughts raced through my mind: I’d been too hasty, I hadn’t meant to say yes, the wedding date crept up on me, dear God, what was I about to do? All I could think about was hurrying up and getting the whole thing over with so I could get my bearings straight.

  When the door opened, I whirled around, hoping it was Liz so she could calm me down. I went still when I saw Marcus standing by the doorway. His smile froze on his face at my panicked expression.

  “Marcus,” I whispered. “What are you doing in here?”

  Marcus didn’t respond. Instead, he crossed the room, taking my hands in his and gazing into my eyes.

  “Are you still with me?” he murmured. I stared at him, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. I tried to force a smile.

  “Yes, of course, let’s get this over with,” I managed to say, feeling nauseous. “Get out of here. You know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Go on.”

  I gave him a shaky smile and turned away. But I could feel Marcus just stand there for what seemed like hours, until I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. He turned me around to face him. His eyes were bright with tears.

  “I can’t do this to you. We can’t do this,” he said. I looked up at him in horror, my panic giving way to anger.

  “W-what—” I stammered.

  “Us at seventy-four. Sitting in rocking chairs. Old married couple. Do you see it?” Marcus asked.

  “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I blubbered, my eyes beginning to fill with tears.

  “Do you see it, Adrian?” Marcus pressed.

  “I don’t want to see myself at seventy-four! It’s probably not the best sight in the world! What does this have to do with anything?” I shouted.

  “Thirty-four. Thirty. Next month. Next week.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” I said. “Look, we have to go through with this. The guests are waiting.”

  “It’s not about the guests; it’s about us. You can barely stand up, you’re shaking so badly. You want out, don’t you?”

  “Don’t try and turn this around on me!” I shouted. “You want out, and you’re trying to twist this around. Now let’s just get this over with.”

  “‘Get this over with. Go through with it.’ You’ve been using those terms for our wedding for the past month. It’s not a hernia operation, it’s our wedding!”

  “Let’s—calm down,” I said, struggling to fight back my tears. “Let’s just get this over with. I mean, let’s get married, and then—”

  “So that we can come to regret it? And end up divorced? Like your parents? My parents? We shouldn’t—I can’t—”

  He stopped himself, taking a seat on one of the long benches in the room. He buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders shook. He was crying. I just stood there, fighting a growing wave of anxiety. He finally looked up at me.

  “I love you, Adrian. I always will. But we can’t do this, Adrian. I won’t. I’m sorry.”

  I slowly backed up as he got to his feet, feeling as if the walls were closing in around me. I looked around the room for an escape. Any escape. I knew I couldn’t go out through the front door—Liz and my parents were out there. I caught a glimpse of a small emergency exit in the back of the room. The perfect escape. Marcus followed my gaze, sensing my train of thought.

  “Adrian,” he began, stepping toward me. I stumbled out of his reach, taking off my veil and hurling it at him.

  “Get out of my way!”

  I moved toward the exit, but Marcus blocked me in.

  “Look at me. Look at me and tell me honestly that you want to get married. And then we’ll do it. We’ll walk down that aisle,” Marcus said.

  I looked at him, furious, but I couldn’t make myself form the words he wanted to hear. I just had to get the hell out of there. So I stepped on his foot, making him grunt with pain and stumble out of my way. I wrenched open the exit door and took off.

  Now Marcus reached across the table, placing his hands over mine, bringing me back to the present. I did nothing to remove them, still lost in the painful memory.

  “Adrian, I’m so sorry.”

  I looked at Marcus with a sad smile, and to my surprise I felt no lingering anger. No bitterness. I allowed myself to let all those feelings go. In my case, my love for Jackson allowed me to let go of all the remnant anger I’d harbored toward Marcus. And I was finally able to come to the realization that I hadn’t truly wanted to marry Marcus. On a small level, I felt relief as I fled from the church on that fateful day.

  “You don’t have to apologize. You were right all along. Neither one of us wanted to get married,” I mused aloud.

  Marcus and I ate breakfast, and I waited as he got dressed before we headed to the hospital. At the entrance to the hospital, Marcus looked down at me for a long moment, gingerly touching the side of my face. His hand dropped to his side and I took it between mine.

  “Thank you for everything,” I said.

  “Anytime. I’ll always be here for you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” I said, beaming. I took a step toward the hospital before turning back to face him. “Goodbye, Marcus.”

  “Goodbye, Adrian.”

  I watched him head down the street until he faded from view. This time the goodbye felt final. It felt real. I supposed that this was what closure felt like. I could now honestly say that Marcus was completely removed from my heart. Yes, Jackson was now firmly embedded there, but it felt good to have my ex-fiancé completely out.

  I headed inside the hospital. The same nurse from yesterday led me to Dad’s new room.

  “Is your ‘coworker’ around?” she asked hopefully, scanning the area behind me for any sign of Jackson. “We need some eye candy around here.”

  “No. He’s probably busy,” I said, trying to make my voice light. She had no idea how desperate I was to see Jackson.

  Wh
en I arrived in Dad’s room, he was sitting up in bed, talking animatedly to both Mom and Janet. It was such a complete 180-degree turn from the way he’d looked just the night before that I did a double take. Dad stopped in midsentence, giving me a broad smile.

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  I burst into tears.

  I recovered shortly thereafter as Mom rushed forward to hug me. Dad jokingly told me he wasn’t quite dead yet so the tears weren’t necessary, which caused me to burst into another bout of tears.

  “That’s not funny, Robert,” Mom scolded Dad, squeezing my shoulders.

  “Sorry,” Dad said sheepishly. I rushed forward and gave him a gentle hug. He returned the embrace.

  Mom and Janet left us alone. (I was nervous about them being alone together, but I saw them head in separate directions as they walked out into the hall.) Dad told me how he’d collapsed on the way to the Hamptons. He joked about how he hated to give up his favorite meal of greasy fried chicken with tater tots and heaps of fries, but his doctors had given him strict dietary orders. They were keeping him another night for observation, and he’d be released the next day.

  “Good,” I said, relieved. “I’m so glad you’re OK. So glad.”

  I blinked back another fresh wave of tears. Dad chuckled, reaching out to pull me into his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head.

  “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

  I remained at Dad’s side as a nurse brought in his lunch. I couldn’t help but check my cell phone a couple of times to see if Jackson had called. He hadn’t.

  “Your mother tells me Marcus came to the hospital,” Dad said, picking at his salad.

  I froze. Dad probably assumed it was Marcus whose call I was waiting for. I told him that he had and that we’d resolved the differences between us and parted as friends. For real, this time.

  “Good,” Dad said. “Then it must be that other guy. Jack something?”

  “Um, Jackson,” I said. My feelings for Jackson must have been glaringly obvious.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about certain things with your old dad,” Dad said with a smile, leaning back into his pillows. “But can I say this one thing?”