JAKE (Leaves of a Maple Book 2)

by Haley Jenner

  My backbone is weak, frail under the weight of the outcome that can result from future confrontations. I’m not completely deluded or planning on avoiding forever. I have a cut-off. A week. Just one more week of settling everything in my head. It’s not that I haven’t tried. I have. Every day. Every morning I wake with a renewed sense of focus, and I work myself up enough to get into my car and drive. My newfound focus always wanes on the drive, my palms become clammy as my heart begins beating up into my throat and I start shaking. I feel a crashing wave of relief every time I pull into his street, and his car isn’t parked outside Janie’s. My heart rights itself at his absence, and I leave the street as quickly as I arrived, not giving Annabelle’s a second glance. With each day of his absence though, my relief is quickly replaced with rising panic. He’s never there; not in the mornings, throughout the days or late into the evening. I’ve checked every possible time of day and Jake seems to have disappeared. I know he’s still in town. Steve would have told me otherwise. But his lack of presence at home is concerning.

  Is he spending his time with someone else? The thought has me reeling, and I know I have no right to feel upset or mad. But even though I have no right, I’m fucking mad. He said his heart belonged to me, if that was true how could he so easily replace me?

  My panic begins to consume me until I can’t take it any longer and as risky as it is, I drive to the shop. Within moments of arriving, I feel myself take my first full breath because his blue charger is there, backed into his usual spot in the lot. While I still don't know where he's spending his time, that small visibility of something that he owns, something that was so totally and perfectly Jake, eases the pain in my heart. I can’t see him, not from where I’d parked across the street, but moving closer isn’t an option because as much as I’m dying to see him, even just a glimpse, his workplace isn’t the place for him to see me. I can’t open our heartbreak up to his friends and colleagues. It wouldn’t be fair.

  So I'd given myself a week. One more week, before I grow the fuck up and finally face the mistakes I've made with Jake.

  Seven more days of creeping around town hoping no one sees me.

  Seven more days of living in mindless panic and nervousness about the possibility of life.

  Seven more days of driving past Janie's house to see if Jake has come home.

  Seven more days of making sure his car is parked at the shop if I can't see his car at Janie's.

  Seven more days. Where I can work shit out with Annabelle.

  "Shortcake, that you?" Steve bellows from somewhere in the house.

  "Yeah, Stevie, it's me," I answer, dropping my bag inside the door and dragging my feet towards the kitchen and the sound of his voice.

  "Beer?" he offers, and I grimace at the thought.

  "Something stronger please," I sigh, dropping onto a bar stool.

  "Tequila coming up," he smiles turning towards the pantry to locate my beverage of choice.

  I watch him pour my drink in silence, finding so much comfort in his company.

  "Saw your car at work today," he tests, sliding my glass towards me.

  Sitting up straight my eyes go wide, and I swallow deeply. "Did Jake see me?" I rush out, panicked at the thought.

  "Was working underneath a car most of the day so unlikely. Seen you there a bit over the last few days, wanna tell me what you're playin' at?" he asks, taking a deep pull from his beer.

  Twisting my glass in circles on the counter I watch the water expand along the marble tops. "I just needed reassurance he was still around. I went to see him the other day, chickened out well before I arrived, but his car wasn't at home anyway. Been there every day since, mornings, afternoons, some nights, but he's never there. I just… is he seeing someone else?" I ask the small pool of water, using my finger to move it around the bench.

  "You been goin' to Janie's?" he asks, and I give a slight nod of my head, eyes still trained downward.

  "Shortcake, look at me," he urges, and I look up through my lashes. "Jake moved out," he smiles. "He's livin' in one of the apartments he owns across town."

  "What?!" I sit up straighter, my full focus on Steve's face. "Where Archer was living awhile back?"

  "Yeah, Aubrey, he moved in a little over a month ago. Could’a just asked me, Shortcake, instead of lurking around town," he laughs, head shaking side-to-side.

  Sighing loudly, he places his bottle on the bench, arms crossing over his chest. "Look, kid’s been givin' some pretty intense, moody eyes lately. Watchin' every move I make, comin' closer whenever I'm on the phone. If I were a betting man, I'd say he knows you're back. Now, I don't know how he knows, I sure as shit haven't said anything, but I also don't like keepin' it from him. I like him like he's my own, so I'm tellin' ya now, he asks, which he's gettin' close to doin', I'm not gonna lie, sweetheart."

  Closing my eyes, I nod in understanding.

  "Aubrey, sweetheart," Steve coaxes, making my eyes open. "I love you, with all my heart. Truth is, to the world it looks like you fucked up. Big. You hurt some people in the process and that ain't just gonna go away with you hidin' out, pretendin' you need more time. You've had enough time. You're never gonna fully forgive yourself or have a chance at the life you want unless you move forward. Go to Annabelle. Go to Jake. Will they forgive you? Sweetheart, I do not know. But you're never gonna forgive you unless you try and I sure as shit want my Aubrey back."

  Moving towards me he plants a kiss on the top of my head before tipping my chin up so I can meet his eyes. "Do me a favor, find her for me. I miss her." He winks before sauntering from the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Aubrey

  She knows I'm here. Shit, I've been parked in her drive for the past fifteen minutes trying work up the courage to climb out of my car. Archer's not home, I don't know if that's a good or bad thing. Will be nice to have my moment alone with Annabelle but if Darci was telling the truth, wouldn't hurt having him there for some sort of moral support. Not that he'd ever go against Annabelle in front of me, but still.

  I watch the curtain move again and know she'd be getting restless, waiting. I should have brought booze. Granted it’s only morning, but I could use a bit of Dutch courage right about now.

  Taking one last deep breath, I blow it out on a loud exhale as I finally reach for the handle and throw my door open. Removing myself from the car, I steel my composure before moving towards the porch steps. I count my breaths as I walk, distracting myself from the excess adrenaline pumping through my veins.

  Normally I'd just walk inside, make myself at home and throw my arms around her in a tight hug. Unfortunately, normal is no longer the case, and so I knock softly on the bright red door and wait.

  And wait.

  And wait.

  Finally, the door opens, and she stands watching me, arms braced across her chest, lips pursed, eyebrows raised. "Oh. It's you."

  "Seriously?" I ask before I can stop the words.

  "Excuse me?" she snaps, and I sigh loudly.

  "I've been in my car for the last fifteen minutes, I saw you in the curtains, don't act shocked that I'm standing here," I argue, unable to let her dramatics reign control.

  "Whatever," she rolls her eyes moving away from the door.

  She leaves it open, which I take as a positive sign. She hasn't told me to fuck off, and that is one thing I grab hold of and won’t be letting go. Closing the door softly behind me, I follow her footsteps to the kitchen.

  Pushing a beer towards me on entry, I fail miserably at hiding my smile. This is one of the many reasons Annabelle and I are best friends. Were best friends. Who gives a shit it's only ten am? Stressful situations call for alcohol.

  She ruefully returns my smile before moving to sit on her kitchen counter, eyes trained on me. Taking the counter across from her, I mirror her position, and we sip the cold liquid for a few silent seconds before she speaks.

  "Been in town, what? Going on two weeks and I'm just seeing you now, not the Aubrey I though
t I knew," she stabs. "But then there's a whole heap of shit I thought I knew about my best friend when it turns out I knew nothing. Not a fucking thing," she spits, and I place my bottle beside my leg.

  "If that’s what this is going to be, Annabelle, you throwing shit at me, I'll go right now. I'm here to talk to you, to explain, to answer your questions, to apologize," I speak quietly. "But if you're not willing to hear me and your sole goal is to hurt me with words, I should go," I test and wait patiently for her to decide.

  "I'm angry," she whispers, her brown eyes cast down at her feet.

  "I get that," I concede, moving to retrieve my beer. "I guess I should start from the beginning."

  "Most stories tend to unfold from there," she speaks around her own beer, eyes peeking over the neck of her bottle.

  I start from the very beginning, Dad introducing me and David, me figuring I'd do right by my dad and stick with someone like-minded, someone he would approve of. Her eyes turn sympathetic and angry as I explain mine and David's relationship. The condescension. The loneliness. The disapproval. The insults. Like with Darci, I keep David’s threats hidden. It seems too easy using that as an excuse for my behavior. I deserve her anger, her judgment. David may have blackmailed me to stay, but I’m the one that pulled Jake into the tangled mess of my life. I kept pulling him back, over and over again, knowing that I couldn’t give him what he needed, what he deserved. He gave me his heart and I greedily took it, all of it, all the while lying about his ownership of mine. I should’ve been a better person, a stronger person. But I wasn’t and my weakness at needing Jake to bring something good to my life broke him. Unfortunately for me, Annabelle’s hate is more than I deserve.

  "He'd go through periods of nice and I'd question the negative. Convince myself for a while that he was stressed, or I was exaggerating his poor qualities, but then it would start again, and I'd be swallowed by the numbness. It was a fucked-up cycle that just kept getting worse and worse. I finally started to pull away when I saw the breakdown of you and Archer and I watched the pain you were in," I admit, watching her eyes turn sad at the memory. "I realized that never would I feel that way if David left me. Shit, Annabelle, if David left me all I could muster inside was that I'd feel relief, but also worry that I'd disappoint my dad. But after seeing you, I was envious of the love you and Archer had. I couldn't even begin to imagine how deep you must have felt. I do now," I confess and her eyes sharpen at my obvious mention of Jake.

  I tell her about removing myself from it all some nights, going out, drinking heavily and forgetting, even for just a few hours, how much I hated that life I'd created for myself.

  "Were there others?" she questions, her voice cracking at the question.

  I smile sadly. "It hurts that you have to even ask that, but I guess I deserve it. No, never even crossed my mind. Not until Jake anyway," I respond.

  I talk about the night in Arlington and how connected I felt to Jake. How kind and caring and honest he was. How for the first time in so many years he made me feel good about being me. That I was special and that someone as amazing as Jake could love me, flaws and all.

  “Were you sleeping with them both at the same time? David and Jake?”

  “No,” I answer immediately, my head shaking in my need for her to believe me. “From that first moment with Jake, well before if I’m being honest, David and I didn’t…” I sigh, pausing to meet her eyes. “David and I hadn’t touched in months prior. After that first night with Jake, there was no way I could’ve let that happen.”

  She nods and my eyes close over in relief. I needed her to believe that. If I have any chance of her forgiving me, she needs to know from the moment Jake and I stumbled over the line of morality, I was his, in every way, it was just my own senseless fears wouldn’t let myself surrender to it.

  "No secret I've always found him attractive," I murmur and she accepts this with a small nod of her head, hair falling from the mass tied on top of her head. "God, that night, the booze, the connection I felt… we felt," I correct myself. "It was unlike anything I've ever felt. Even if I tried I couldn't have stopped myself, it felt too… right. Which, I know, even to me sounds… fucking ridiculous, but it did."

  I talk through our contact from there. The phone calls, the texts, the constant hijacking of my brain when it came to Jake. The moments we gave into and the moments that caused hurt. I tell her it all right up until the bar, Jake singing to me, our encounter and Archer's interference. I cry when I recall Jake's last words, the hurt in his face and I see tears pool in her own eyes.

  "I spent an hour in the bathroom, crying like a lunatic and I'm so thankful for Archer in that moment because I know he must have spun some story to stop you or Darci looking for me. I don't know what I would have said or done. Maybe it would have worked out better, Jake wouldn't have unraveled in front of the entire town and… God, I don't know. I tried to leave after finally pulling myself together."

  "But I wouldn't let you," Annabelle concludes, and I bite my bottom lip, not bothering to answer. I finish my story, recounting mine and David's argument at Mom's and leaving for Bellingham the same night.

  "Even then I couldn't help but compare David to Archer. Shit, Archer found out you still spoke to Max on occasion, and he lost his fucking mind. David finds out I'd slept with someone else and he was only concerned with how it made him look. Of how I'd embarrassed him."

  Annabelle's eyes flick between sympathy and anger. Her emotions warring with one another as to how to feel about my story.

  I recall David's decision about getting married and my fight with Jake, refusing to meet Annabelle's eyes throughout the entire spiel. Not feeling much like being on the receiving end of her disapproval and animosity of my actions towards Jake. I have enough hate inside of myself at treating Jake the way I did, without needing hers to add to the weight.

  "After Jake left I packed my things and left. I stayed with Dad for a bit, then did some traveling with him for the past few months trying to sort my head out. I worked through a lot and realized it was finally time to come and make it right. Try to, anyway," I finish, taking the last sip of my beer as I watch her process my words.

  I take in her features as her eyes scan my face. Her eyes shine a lot brighter these days now things have been fixed with Archer. A slight rose dusts her cheeks from the alcohol and even dressed in leggings and a light shirt she looks good. Effortless. Life is good for her with Archer and this knowledge fills me with happiness.

  "Life's good for you," I state my observation, and she nods her head yes.

  Clearing her throat, she pulls a foot onto the counter, resting her chin on her knee. "Archer and I are good. We're happy. Work is good, for both of us. But I worry for Jake, and we feel less connected now that a lie was built between us. I've also lost my best friend, which really fucking sucks," she counters my words, and I sigh.

  "I never wanted to come between you and Jake but in all honesty, Annabelle, there are gonna be things in life that Jake won't share with you. Like you with Archer, when Jake falls in love, gets married, has kids," I speak around the lump forming in my throat. "There'll be things you won't be privy to. You, as his closest friend, have to accept that."

  She watches my lips as I speak as if visually receiving the words will help them sink in better.

  "And you haven't lost your best friend. I'm sitting right here asking you to forgive me for hurting you. For hurting Jake," I add, and her eyes flick up to mine immediately. "I'm so sorry, Annabelle," I cry, tears once again falling from my eyes. "I'm sorry for lying to you. I'm sorry for hurting you with my lies. And I'm so fucking sorry for causing Jake any pain. I love him and I'm gonna try, with everything I have inside of me, to make it right. I love him so fucking much and I love you and the last few months have been so hard without being able to contact you, knowing how mad you are at me."

  Annabelle's chin wobbles with an obvious effort not to cry, her large brown eyes wet with the tears filling them as she stutters throu
gh her breathing. "I'm happy you've come to make it right with Jake, and I hope that you two fix whatever’s been broken, really, I do. But…" she blows out a breath to steady herself before continuing. "But I can't be that person for you anymore, Aubrey. I'm sorry but I don't think I can find it within myself to forgive you. I have so much anger inside of me because of you, and I don't know how to let it go. You lied to me, you continued to lie to me for months and months. You broke a trust that I thought, with our friendship, was rock solid. But more than that you hurt and have continued to cause pain to the best person I know. You took the sweetest, most loyal, most caring man and made him someone that he hated. You took everything he had to offer and discarded it like trash. Jake only wanted to love you and you made him do that. By being you, you made him fall in love with you and I can't hate you for that, because, shit, Aubrey, I love you too. But I don't like you anymore. I don't even think I know you anymore. I can't be friends with someone who so easily deceives others they care about. I can't be friends with someone who puts their own needs above the people they love. I'm sorry, but I don't want to know you anymore," she finishes on a whisper and to stop the sob breaking from my lips, I cover my mouth with my hand.

  I stare at the tiles in her kitchen until my sobs subside before moving. Dropping down from the counter I meet her eyes once more and hers no doubt look like mine. Red-rimmed, bloodshot and sad.

  My best friend just broke up with me, and I'm struggling to comprehend how to move on from that.

  "I understand you don't want me in your life anymore and originally I had this plan in my head that I'd only go to Jake and beg for a second chance when the people he loved the most had forgiven me. But I can't do that. I'm sorry you don't want me in your life, Annabelle, it's probably the second hardest thing I've ever had to stomach, after losing Jake. But you need to know, with or without your friendship I plan to right things with Jake. No matter how long it takes, or how hard it is, I plan to see it through. I want my happy ever after with Jake and I want to give him his. I hope you have it in you to respect that and not cause him any reason to doubt his feelings for me, because if you do, I love you, but we'll have problems," I warn, giving her one last look before walking from her kitchen and leaving her sitting chin to knee on her counter.