by Bonnie Dee
“But groping and bringing each other off?”
He stared at his hands. “Yeah. But it didn’t mean anything.”
“No. Of course not.” Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the acid from eating through as I pictured Jason doing intimate things with some strange woman from his past. “You were drunk, so that excuses it, right?”
“You wanted honesty. I’m being honest. We hadn’t said we were exclusive so—”
“Seriously?” I interrupted.
“I’m not trying to make excuses, just telling you how it happened. I know I was wrong to hook up with Lisa. She was there and convenient, and I didn’t stop to consider what I was doing. I’m sorry.” He looked at me with those serious, dark eyes, but for once I didn’t melt.
I rose from the bed, shaking off his hand when he grabbed my arm. “I can’t be here right now.” I snatched up my purse and headed for the door.
“That’s it?” he said, coming after me. “We’re not going to talk about it?”
“No. Not now.” I was too angry to be reasonable. Maybe I’d asked for transparency but I hadn’t expected to hear Jason had been messing with some other woman. Right at that moment, I wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt me. “Maybe you’re right and you still are the jerk you were before the accident. People don’t change who they are underneath.”
I wanted to say a lot more hurtful things I didn’t necessarily believe were true, but forced myself to leave before I started yelling. The door shut behind me, cutting off Jason’s voice.
By the time I reached my car I was already regretting my flare of temper, but pride wouldn’t let me go back inside or even send a text. I just kept fantasizing Jason and Some Girl, blonde in my imagination, going at it in the backseat of a car. God, I hated her for ruining the good thing we’d had going. Hated Jason for ruining it with his stupid drunken hormones. Did what he and I did together mean so little to him that he could casually mess around with someone else and declare it didn’t matter? Even if we hadn’t pledged our undying troth, we’d had an unspoken agreement of monogamy. And, penetration or not, what he had done counted as sex in my estimation.
My phone was buzzing, announcing an incoming text, but I refused to look at it. I turned the phone off. Two could play at silence. I wanted Jason to feel what it was like to be left hanging and wondering where he stood. I was pissed and wanted to punish him but I honestly didn’t intend it to be a breakup. However, sometimes silence can snowball and pride can become a wall impossible to break through.
Chapter Twenty-one
Whoever said “silence is golden” knew what the hell they were talking about. As the door slammed behind Anna, I kicked myself for confessing something that hadn’t needed to be told. And then I was literally kicking out, knocking over a chair, hurling my phone against the wall, sweeping the clutter of dishes off the kitchen counter so they fell to the floor with a satisfying smash. Rage rushed through me and I embraced the feeling. Controlling my emotions was a daily struggle. After the accident, I’d had to relearn, like a two-year-old, how to react to frustrations in appropriate ways, but at that moment, it felt great to let emotion take over.
A couple of minutes later, staring at the wreckage around me—not so much. Instead of ruining my stuff, I should’ve been running after Anna and begging her forgiveness. That’s what normal people would do. Now she was gone, and I couldn’t even call her, since my phone was smashed. Still shaking from the adrenaline rush, I punched in her number anyway, but the cell was dead. Crap! I’d have to wait until I got to work and call from one of the office phones.
I needed to get moving or I’d be late, but I felt as drained as if I’d run a marathon, and terrified I’d ruined my best chance at happiness. Dropping down onto an armchair, I replayed over and over in my mind how the promising makeup scene had gone wrong. I’d been so close to having Anna back again. Now God knew what she was thinking. Why the fuck had I told her about Lisa?
I leaned back and closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I was more than a little late. Calling in sick sounded like a good option, but instead I decided to start late and skimp on the cleaning. The janitorial service trusted me and didn’t check up on my work like they had when I first started.
I skipped dinner and hurried to the bus stop. As restless and upset as I felt, cleaning offices was the last thing I wanted to do, so when I got off at my stop and my friend Harrison called me over, I went to join him and the other homeless guys in the park.
Harrison offered me the bottle he was holding. “Haven’t seen you much lately, man.”
I took a swallow and handed it back. “Been seeing this girl. Keeping me busy.” The heat of the alcohol slipped through my body like molten gold and took the edge off my anxiety.
A grin split Harrison’s pockmarked face. “That’s a good kind of busy to have.”
I stayed, talking to the guys with no place special to go, until the trees’ shadows grew long. I glanced blearily at my watch. “Shit. I’ve gotta go.”
I staggered across the street to the building, which suddenly looked more like a prison than an office complex. I squinted and struggled to jam the key in the lock. After I got inside and entered the alarm code, I sat at the receptionist’s desk and rested my head on my folded arms for a while. The world floated around me, and I felt kind of queasy but also felt pretty good.
When I woke up, it was well past midnight. I hadn’t called Anna to offer an apology, and now it was too late at night. I’d be more likely to piss her off for waking her up than earn her forgiveness.
A drink of water from the cooler did little to alleviate my dry mouth or pounding headache. I went around the building emptying wastebaskets, the main task that would prove I’d been there. Office workers wouldn’t be too aware of messy carpets or scuffs on the corridor floors, but overflowing baskets pissed them right off.
In less than an hour, I locked up the building and went to wait for the bus home. Sitting on a bench in the dead of night, no traffic, no other people, only me, made me realize there’s a fine line between peaceful solitude and aching loneliness. I was pining for Anna. But she was out of reach. I couldn’t turn up on her doorstep in the middle of the night after the bomb I’d dropped and expect a warm reception.
I caught the bus home and stopped to buy a six-pack at the convenience store around the corner before I went home. I sat up and drank most of the beers by morning, then passed out and slept till late afternoon. I woke feeling queasy and dizzy, which probably had a lot to do with missing several meals. I couldn’t blow off work again, so I got my shit together, had a beer with my sandwich, then scooted out the door.
A full day had passed since Anna had walked out of my apartment. Was the ball in her court or mine? Should I get myself to the nearest pay phone and call to beg forgiveness, or wait for her to be ready to talk to me? I wasn’t sure, and that indecision froze me, so I did nothing.
I dropped by the park to check in with Harrison and his crew again. I learned a lot about Harrison’s troubles with the VA while others complained about delays in getting their disability or relief checks. A couple of joints made the rounds, and I cruised into work a couple of hours late and pretty high. It didn’t matter though. I could get through the building faster if I skimped on some of the detail work. Who noticed if picture frames were dusted or woodwork was rubbed to a shine?
I knocked off early and headed toward Anna’s place. I stood on her street and came close to going up and letting myself into the apartment. I still had the key. What if I climbed into bed with her as I’d done so many other nights? Would she let me stay? Would we make love and everything would go back to normal?
No. The middle of the night was no time to have this out, and Anna hadn’t tried to see me at work, so apparently she wasn’t in a forgiving mood.
I walked away and waited almost a full hour at the nearest bus stop for a ride home.
****
The third day after my stupid announcement, I sti
ll hadn’t heard from Anna. I gathered my tattered pride and decided I had to do something. Anna had to know she could trust me never to fail her again. I must find some way to show her how much I cared. The idea of the grand romantic gesture sounds better than it actually plays out. Trust me, it’s not foolproof like in the movies.
I tried to think of what would really move Anna, something that reminded her of our time together and the intimacy we’d shared. I knew some of her favorite things, and there was Baby. The little mutt had really brought us close. But for the life of me, I couldn’t come up with some clever way to weave all these details together into a Grand Gesture with capital Gs.
I decided to get some input from people I knew who were more romantic than I was. Unfortunately, nobody in my recovery group had anything to offer.
“Flowers always help when you’re making an apology,” Maxie said.
“What’d you do?” Rob asked. “The cost of the gift depends on the size of the screwup.”
“It was a misunderstanding. I don’t want to get into the particulars.”
“You screwed somebody else,” Serena guessed. “Why don’t you leave the poor woman alone? If she decides to forgive you, she’ll let you know.”
“I didn’t screw her.” Because I hadn’t, and nobody here needed to know the extent of the fooling around. “Besides, Anna and I never said we were exclusive, and I’ve already told her I’m sorry.”
“Oh yeah, that’s what a girl wants to hear. Excuses and empty apologies.” Serena sneered. “You’re not sorry enough, and she sees right through you.”
“Okay, thanks for the help,” I said as members of the group began to argue about when commitment in a relationship began.
I tried for more advice from the gang in the park. Charlie offered support for my heartache in the form of a vodka bottle. Harrison echoed Maxie’s advice about flowers.
“Chicks dig flowers. There’s some right over there.” He pointed at a flowerbed encircling one of the trees. “Take her a bouquet. Go down on one knee or whatever. I don’t know, man.”
“Grow a pair and tell her to fuck off,” Charlie said. “There’s plenty of women out there. Act like you don’t give a shit, and I guarantee she’ll come crawling back.”
“Like your wife did?” Harrison goaded.
“Fuck off,” the drunk snarled.
With a last pull on the vodka bottle for added confidence, I left them to their sniping. Since I couldn’t afford a fifty-dollar bouquet of roses, I followed Harrison’s advice and picked a few of the park flowers. I crossed the street, headed for the Haggenstern and Lowe offices, my palm sweating around the bouquet.
“You’re here really early,” Sherry the receptionist noted. “And with flowers. What’s the occasion?”
I didn’t want to explain, so I pretended not to hear her and hurried toward the elevator. Wearing my best jeans and a button-down shirt instead of my usual tee, I was as presentable as I’d ever be. If I could suppress the churning fear in my stomach, I’d do okay. But I wished I’d had another drink of the vodka to fortify my courage.
I leaned against the wall of the elevator and watched the numbers announce each floor. Only two, so it didn’t take nearly long enough for me to review the steps of my brilliant master plan: go to Anna’s office, knock on the door, offer the flowers and a heartfelt apology for hooking up with Lisa, accept Anna’s forgiveness and her kiss. How hard could it be?
If you feel impending disaster looming, you should probably listen to the voice in your head yelling, Danger, Will Robinson.
The elevator doors slid open, and a pair of lawyers in sharp suits waited in the hallway, both working on tablets as they chatted about a case. They barely spared me a glance as they stepped into the elevator and I walked out.
I looked down at the orange and yellow flowers in my hand. Their bright colors gave me courage. Sure, a bouquet and an apology were kind of lame for a grand gesture, but Anna liked simple things, and I had to believe she still liked me. I would make her forgive me with the force of my conviction never to fuck up again.
“Excuse me,” the Haggenstern and Lowe receptionist called out as I walked past. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Anna Stevens.” I held the bouquet up in front of me like a shield.
“Your name?” the receptionist asked.
“Jason. But you don’t have to tell her I’m here. I’ll just go to her office.”
“I’m sorry, sir. You can’t go back to the offices without an appointment. I’ll let Ms. Stevens know you’re waiting for her.”
Great. Anna could have me sent away before I got a chance to talk to her. I should’ve worn my coverall so I could go wherever I wanted in the building. Never thought the ugly thing would come in handy. But, on the other hand, a janitor’s uniform hardly signaled romantic intentions.
The receptionist spoke into her headset, announcing my arrival to Anna. Deciding not to take a chance on rejection, I forged past the front desk and into the communal area the offices shared. I’d moved around here night after night, cleaning, straightening, setting things back in order, but I’d rarely seen it full of busy lawyers. I held the bouquet hidden by my side, wishing I hadn’t brought the stupid thing, and strode toward Anna’s office as if I belonged there. I was halfway there when Anna came around the corner.
“Jason, what are you doing here?”
It was hardly the greeting I’d hoped for, and her dismayed expression wasn’t encouraging.
“You walked out, and I didn’t get to apologize.”
“So you came to confront me at work?” Her voice lowered, and her gaze darted around the office, gauging how many people were watching us.
I glanced down at the limp flowers and wondered how the not-so-grand romantic gesture had turned into a confrontation. “No. That’s not what I meant.”
“This isn’t the time or place to talk.” Anna moved closer, and her eyes narrowed. “Have you been drinking?”
“A little,” I muttered. “But I’m not drunk. I just wanted to, uh, give you these and to tell you how sorry I am for what happened.” I thrust the bouquet toward her.
“Anna, I’m sorry. I told him to wait.” The receptionist’s voice came from behind me. “Should I call security?”
This wasn’t going at all according to plan. People were starting to look at us with curious eyes. My cheeks burned, and I wanted to disappear. Bad idea to come here. Just bad.
“No! That’s okay, Regina. I’ve got this.” Anna looked at me with her gorgeous blue eyes, and for one moment, I thought maybe it would turn out okay after all. She’d pull me into her office, I’d apologize again, make her take the damn flowers, and all would be forgiven. Instead, she said in a voice so cold it would make ice form on a cup of hot coffee, “Please go now, Jason.”
She grabbed my arm and gave me a little push, polite but firm. I didn’t recognize this Anna, didn’t know her, and I was desperate to break through that icy veneer.
“Wait. Just wait.” I dropped the flowers on the floor and raised my hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you at work. I thought we could talk in your office. I just wanted to say—”
“Not here and not now. I’m working!”
I felt as humiliated as Baby looked when she had an accident on the floor. But I kept on talking, too loud, swept away by uncontrolled emotions. “I’m sorry, Anna. I just want another chance. Can’t we start over? I know I was wrong. I would never, ever do that again.” It sounded like whining, even to me. Oh yeah, embarrassing her at work was an excellent way to win her back, but still I babbled on. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Wasn’t this the part where the girl was so moved by the guy’s sincerity that she gave in? But there was no swelling music in the Haggenstern and Lowe offices, only the quiet whispers of staring lawyers and Anna’s softly muttered, “Please go, Jason. I don’t want to do this here. I’ll talk to you later.”
The older man I’d seen Anna with the day I’d come to change the lightbulb approached me. “You need to leave now, sir. Whatever you want to discuss with Ms. Stevens will wait until after office hours. And if she doesn’t wish to see you then, I recommend you keep your distance. Don’t force her to take out a restraining order.”
Jesus Christ, this apology had spiraled completely out of control. I was caught in a nightmare, and my shame was starting to edge into anger. “What the hell? I have a right to talk to her.”
“It’s all right, Jules,” Anna said to the man. “I’ve got this.”
“Then deal with it. Because this isn’t the time or place.”
“Yes, I know that,” she answered shortly and turned back to me. She touched my arm and looked up into my face. “Don’t make me say it again, Jason. You need to leave now.” And this time she didn’t soften it with an “I’ll talk to you later.”
Our gazes locked for several heartbeats, and I didn’t feel any warmth or yielding in hers. I shook off her hand. “Fine! Whatever. Sorry I bothered you.” Was I shouting? I didn’t mean to, but blood was surging through my veins, rushing in my ears so my head rang. I was nearly blind as I turned and stalked back the direction I’d come from. Everything was blurry and dark around the edges, but I made my way with as much dignity as I could, out of the office area.
Once I was out of sight, I practically fled from the building. Adrenaline surged through me as if I’d just come off a battlefield rather than a meeting with my girlfriend. Lurching down the sidewalk outside, I tripped over an uneven spot on the sidewalk and fell to my knees, skinning the palms of my hands. I stayed down on the ground for a while on hands and knees, while pedestrians skirted around me. I breathed harshly in and out, still half hoping Anna would come hurrying after me. That was the most humiliating thing of all, the lame-ass hope that fluttered in my chest.
She didn’t come.
After a few minutes, I pulled myself together and trudged across the street to the park where the merry band of losers was parked in the usual spot. A few swallows of liquor and two joints later, the sharp pain in my chest soothed to a dull ache, unpleasant but manageable.
