Left Behind (Lost & Found #1)

by C. L. Stacey

  “Holy tits, Caleb, dial down the intensity. Don’t go and have another one of your bitch fits, please, I don’t have time for this shit!” Stephanie scolds.

  The hostility fades from Caleb’s eyes by the time Stephanie steps up behind him with his freshly pressed shirt, and the color of them return to its normal glowing blue. She waves the shirt impatiently, and he finally cooperates, slipping his arms through the sleeves.

  Stephanie’s body is totally eclipsed by Caleb’s large frame. I wouldn’t be able to see her give me any instructions if she were to do so, so I take it upon myself to do what I assume she would do next by bringing his suit over to him.

  Caleb studies me as I approach, and I hand the jacket to Stephanie, since she is already back there, and I hand the pants over for him to put on himself, because I’m not his fucking mother, and I quietly start on the buttons at the front of his shirt.

  I feel Caleb’s eyes on me, but I avoid his gaze as I work. I tried defending my friend and got my head ripped right off for doing so. I’m not trying again.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Caleb gives me his own version of an apology.

  The corners of my mouth draw downward in a ‘no biggie’ expression as I shake my head. “No problem. We’re good.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he isn’t so bad,” he offers, letting up on Jackson a bit. “He did change his mind after all.”

  My fingers still. Changed his mind? This is news to me. I assumed that Jackson had the man fired, since I had no reason to believe otherwise. We never speak about that night.

  “What do you mean?” I ask casually.

  “Jackson changed his mind about Bernie.” He didn’t confirm it, but I go on to assume that Bernie is the building manager. “But no matter, my opinion of Jackson Anderson remains the same. The man’s got more power than most, but that doesn’t give him the right to play God.”

  I’ve been raining down hard on Jackson for weeks because of how harshly he’d reacted to our unfortunate incident. But he said nothing. He never complained to Stephanie about me, not once. What is that about?

  When I finish with the buttons, I retrieve the ties and hold them up for Stephanie to see.

  Stephanie pops her head out from Caleb’s side, and we both inspect his ensemble before ultimately deciding that the dark red pattern will go nicely with his navy suit.

  This Joker may be dressed in Superman’s colors tonight, but as far as I can tell, the threads are colored a hideous plum. He’s no hero. He’s the evil villain to my Bruce.

  It’s impossible to focus on anything this morning, not when my head feels this full. It’s littered with flashbacks from the night of our fight, and no matter what I do, I end up back in the middle of it.

  I shove my hands into my pockets as I walk over to the glass wall, the one with the panoramic view of the city. In my head, I replace each building for what I actually see. All I see are my mistakes: the restaurants I stood her up in, the movies I never got around to taking her to, the hotels that held all the charity balls she got sick of attending, the shopping trips she made alone…

  Everything Ellie said was right. I never proved to her that I could do any of it.

  I close my eyes and breathe, trying to prevent from feeling everything at once, but my plan backfires. Now all I see is her crying face all over again.

  With a hand over her swollen belly, Ellie paces the room, back and forth, back and forth, and I watch on helplessly as my fiancée drifts further away from me.

  If there is something I can say to help her understand, I would, but there isn’t.

  Finally, Ellie’s feet stop their pacing, and I give her my full attention. I’m ready to answer any question she may ask. I’m even ready to receive whatever angry remarks she may hurl my way.

  The devastating fact, though, is that no matter how much I mentally prepare, it won’t do me any good. We’ve been fighting so much lately. The days we spend arguing now outweigh the amount of days we spend in peace.

  This isn’t a fight for us. It’s a fight to end us. Ellie’s already decided our fate. I can see it in her eyes, the look of a woman too exhausted to go on with a man like me.

  I’m tired, too, I am. I don’t want this life for us. I want us to be happy.

  There are tears in her eyes when she turns to face me again. “How long are you going to keep this up, Jackson?” Her voice is weak and wobbly, her question lacking any hope at all.

  At this point, there is no right answer. Whatever I say will only get turned around, but my silence is no good, either.

  When she fails to hold herself together any longer, she buries her face in her hands and cries.

  My eyes find the suitcases by the door. Her suitcases.

  She’s about to leave me. I know it. I see it. But I don’t want to believe it.

  How did we get here?

  How do we get back?

  Have we really lost our way for good?

  I try to recall the last time we were both truly happy, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t remember. That’s how long it’s been.

  I’m so tired.

  “Ells…” I call to her, hoping she will look at me, but she doesn’t. “What is it you need me to say here? I love you. I have supported your dreams and stood by your side. I asked you, in front of our entire world, if you’d stand by me forever…” Tears slowly form along the edge, ready to spill from my eyes at any moment. “What more do you want from me?”

  Ellie finally locks gazes with mine, and all I see is pure anger in her clear green eyes. “What more do I want—?” Her question dies in her throat when she can’t believe what she’s heard. “I need you to be here!” she shouts at the top of her lungs, “Where are you when I need you to be here? Where do you go? Why can’t you be here when I ask you to be here for me and your unborn child?!” Her voice gives out at the end of her sentence when she breaks down again.

  As much as I want to see her side of all of this, I can’t stand to hear any more of her accusations. “Don’t you think I want to be here? Do you think I’m gone because I want to be?” I shout back, startling her. “You can’t be serious, Ellie, come on!” I roar.

  I regret it. I regret it all.

  I regret what I said. I regret the way I said it. I regret everything I’ve ever done to get us here.

  Our conversation, or more, our argument, is over. Ellie takes her hands up to dry her wet cheeks and then turns her back to me as she marches herself to the front door.

  This is it. She’s leaving.

  If I don’t do everything I can to stop her now, I will never see her again. The realization jolts me, and I spring to my feet and run.

  She gasps loudly when I whoosh past her, I’ve startled her half to death in my race to stand between her and her way out. Once the moment from her scare subsides, she looks angry with me again. “Jackson. Move,” she says in a way of giving me fair warning.

  “No.” I shake my head, firmly standing my ground.

  “Move!” she screams.

  When I refuse to budge, Ellie smacks both her hands flat against my chest, trying to push through me.

  The tears I’ve tried my best to hold back make their way down my face. “Ellie, I love you. Please,” I beg, “don’t leave me. We’re about to start a family, you can’t…”

  None of anything I just said makes it through. Her mind is made up. She is still angry. She is still leaving.

  When she shoves me again, I move away from the door. A decision I know I will come to regret.

  Ellie grabs hold of the handles on her suitcases, wheeling them both along behind her.

  It’s too late. I’m too late.

  I’ve given her every reason to leave. Every promise I made when I placed that diamond on her finger has been broken. So what reason could she have to stay? She is carrying my child, yes, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to force her to stay in this miserable relationship for the rest of her life. Not for his sake. Not for min
e.

  I can’t blame her for taking a stand.

  The slam of her car door shatters my heart completely.

  Watching her drive away, with my baby, rips me in half.

  The chime from the elevator fills my penthouse, forcing me back to my ugly reality, and I turn in time to see the doors open to my foyer. Lexi is there on the other side, sunglasses still on.

  The elevator is full with the last of my things. As far as the new wardrobe goes, it’s done. Finished. The only reasons I have left to call her over are for special events. Events I don’t attend.

  Daniel, who was under orders to wait downstairs for Lexi’s arrival, steps off first, unloading everything from the lift.

  When Lexi steps off after him, I begin to cross the space to get to her, but I stop when I sense that something is off. Her nose is a little pinker than usual. I take a step back to scan the rest of her face, and I see that her skin looks a bit splotchy with the same shade of pink.

  She’s been crying. It explains why she hasn’t removed her glasses yet. She’s hiding her puffy red eyes from me.

  “Hello,” I greet her first, trying my best to come off casual. I oversell it and end up sounding really weird.

  “Hi.” She smiles. Despite her best efforts, I know better than to believe it’s genuine. I know what her real smiles look like, and that was definitely not it.

  We stand there, still awkwardly staring at each other, and I feel at a disadvantage with my miserable gaze being totally exposed to her, while hers is completely hidden from me. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  She shrugs. “You are my job, Jackson. If you went out more, it would give me a reason to come out here, and I’d have reason to see you.”

  I feel the corner of my mouth pull up into a half-smile, one she doesn’t return. I take my hand from my pocket and tap a finger against my temple. “Remove your glasses, please. I don’t like that you’ve made me ask you a second time.”

  The muscles along her delicate neck flex when she takes a huge breath in through her nose. “Do I have to?”

  “I told you before, I’d like to see your eyes when I’m speaking to you.”

  With a soft, shaky exhale, Lexi removes her glasses, but her eyes remain pinned to the floor, avoiding mine at all costs.

  “Lexi…”

  “I need to work on putting your stuff away. Excuse me.” She turns away from me, heading toward my bedroom without allowing me the chance to get in another word.

  I watch her retreating back until she disappears completely around the corner. Even her walk is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Head dropped between her saggy shoulders. I feel guilty not having offered even a few words of comfort, but I have a good feeling she isn’t in the mood to hear any. Especially not from me.

  I don’t know her well enough to do this yet, but I go after her anyway.

  There are a million other things I could be—should be doing right now. I have a healthy stack of contracts and paperwork in my office that could surely use my attention, but I’m walking down the hall to where my bedroom is.

  My feet remain rooted to the floor as I listen in from the doorway. I hear Lexi in my closet, the gentle clinking from the hangers being hung on the rack, the soft shutting of the drawers.

  It isn’t too late to turn around. I could head to my office now and pretend that I don’t know that something is clearly bothering her. Anything that doesn’t involve me being in her face would be good, but I go for the one that puts me at the entrance of my walk-in.

  I hear the soft sound of her sniffling, and I watch her bring the tissue in her hand up to her face to dry her tears.

  She doesn’t make her moment of sadness obvious by sobbing or weeping in here. She is trying to be as quiet as possible about it, to deal with her issues in private, and witnessing this makes me… angry.

  I’m standing right the fuck here. I’m here. But she’d rather sit in my closet and cry alone. Why would she do that? I thought we were friends. Am I so horrible that she can’t confide in me?

  I wait Lexi out quietly, and when I don’t hear the faint sound of her sniffles or see her bring the tissue to her face anymore, I stretch my arm out and knock against the wall inside the room. Her shoulders noticeably tense, but she makes no move turn around.

  Lexi clears her throat before answering me. “Yes?”

  I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the wall of the arched entryway. “About done in here?”

  “Yep.” She takes a dark brown suit from the rolling Z-rack and hangs it onto mine.

  I inhale a hissing breath through my teeth. “Don’t like that one,” I tease, hoping to lift her spirits a bit. Her shoulders sag a little before she takes another item from her rack, and just as she reaches up to hang it next to the suit she hung up a second ago, I say, “Don’t like that one, either.”

  All of a sudden, I see Lexi’s hands shoot upward as she angrily shouts, “Oh, my God, Jackson! Shut up!”

  My eyes widen at her forceful reaction, though I am happy that she’s finally given me one. “Well, it’s about time.”

  She whirls around to face me, giving me a clear view of her puffy face for the first time today. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  I push off the wall and enter the space, stopping in front of the island in the center of the room. “Something’s obviously bothering you, and while I appreciate you trying to bury it, I’d prefer it if you were more expressive. Talk to me, Lexi. What’s going on?”

  A series of emotions passes over her face, but she turns back around to prevent me from seeing any of it, and she gets right back to work. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine,” she grumbles.

  “Bullshit.”

  Lexi hangs her head back on a deep sigh, eyes aimed toward the ceiling. “Jackson, please, just shut it!” she says through gritted teeth.

  “I’m not going to ignore your problem, Lexi. You need a friend right now.”

  “Harper’s busy!” Lexi slams a hanger down more forcefully onto the rack this time, the rate of her work speeding up, like she’s in a rush to get out of here.

  “Well, I’m here… if you want to talk?” I offer.

  “No, thank you.” She doesn’t think twice before brutally rejecting me.

  Fine with me. If she is going to be this elusive, it will only force me to be more persistent. “You were crying.”

  “I was not!” she snaps, placing the final hanger on the rack. Her work is officially done, but she doesn’t turn around to leave, probably because she doesn’t want to give me another clear view of her splotchy face.

  “You were, too.”

  She lets out a growl of frustration and reaches out to smack my innocent suits. “Will you please… just let me have this day?”

  Finally, we’re getting somewhere. “What do you mean this day?” I ask, wanting her to give me more.

  Lexi spins back around, and I see that my pestering questions have set her off again. She’s crying. But this time, she lets me watch.

  I’m suddenly grateful that Lexi tried keeping this from me. This hurts.

  I didn’t mean to upset her.

  “Lexi, I’m—”

  “Who the hell do you think you are!” she shouts through tears, silencing me. “This is none of your business, Jackson!”

  Yes, you most definitely are my business! I want to shout back.

  But I don’t.

  “I do the best I can…” Her voice cracks under the strain. “Three hundred and sixty-four days out of the year, I do my best to put on a smile. I’m asking for one, just one day out of the entire fucking year to just be sad without having to answer everyone else’s questions! I am doing just fine! I will be fine! I am fine!” she shouts and shouts some more, her voice now half gone. Her chest heaves in and out, lungs greedily taking in the air she deprived them of when getting all of that out in one huge breath.

  I stand there silently, just blinking dumbly back at Lexi as she
falls apart before me.

  She will never understand how much it physically hurts for me to see her this way. I’m responsible for this; all of this is my fault… I’ve just made things so much worse by forcing her to talk to me, because I couldn’t take just sitting idly by anymore.

  This is who I’ve become after getting to know Lexi, even I can’t predict what’ll happen next, and it’s only getting worse. I’m hit with something new every day, each day making me more selfish than the last.

  At first, I just wanted to get to know her better. Then, I wanted to become someone she could proudly befriend. Now, I want, more than anything, for her to just trust me. But I have no right to any of these things.

  This is why rule number one exists. No contact, observe from afar. I didn’t want to fucking meet her because this is exactly what I was afraid would happen. Wanting things I can’t have.

  “I’m…” I clear my throat when the word comes out a little scratchy. “I’m sorry, Lexi. I just wanted to help—”

  “Well, don’t!” Her words hammer right through me, making me wince. “Just do me a favor and pretend that you didn’t see any of this!” She waves a finger over her face.

  I hold a hand out, gesturing for her to remain calm. “Lexi,” I call for her attention, tilting my head until I’m more leveled with her, but she starts backing away until her back pushes into the suits hanging behind her.

  The island still stands between us, I wasn’t even remotely close to her, but she distances herself anyway. In that moment, I feel her put up a wall, the one I fought to bring down these past few weeks, separating us.

  That hurt, too.

  “Lexi, look at me.” Without making any physical contact, I mirror her movements; if she moved, I moved. I follow her dodgy eyes with mine, giving her no choice but to look at me. When I have her attention, I make sure to speak in soothing tones. “You’re right. Okay? I’m sorry. I apologize for overstepping my bounds. I didn’t mean to upset you.”