Hooked

by A. T Brennan

  It was stupid, but she felt as though she was mourning what could have been with Clay. In those few moments after they’d had sex in his room, she’d let her mind wander. She’d let herself hope for something more. When he hadn’t even tried to get her to stay she knew for certain it had been all one-sided.

  “Jenna, sweetie. Tell me what’s going on.” Her mom sat down on the chair next to her and gave her a concerned look.

  “Nothing’s going on.”

  “You’re lying. I can tell there’s something there.”

  “Yeah, maybe I am.” She sighed.

  “You know you can talk to me about anything. I thought we’d come to a place where we could talk as adults now and you didn’t have to hide things like you did when you were a teenager.”

  “We are there, Mom.” She nodded. “We’re in that place.”

  “Then why don’t you talk to me about this? If it’s bothering you then you need to say it to someone.”

  She looked at her mom and realized she was right. She did need to talk to someone.

  “It’s about that guy I went to the wedding with.”

  “I wondered about him. Who was he?”

  “Clay Reynolds. I went to high school with him.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d kept it touch with anyone.”

  “I didn’t, not really.” She shook her head. “It was sort of an impulse thing, reaching out to him to go with me.”

  “But he agreed, so there must be more history there than just going to school together eight years ago.”

  “There is.” She blushed and looked away for a moment.

  “You don’t have to tell me the details,” her mom said gently. “I can tell the two of you had a thing at some point.”

  As she looked at her mom the need to tell her everything became so overwhelming she almost started to cry.

  “Jenna?” Her mom reached out and touched her hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” Jenna started, and she was surprised at how hard it was to get the words out. After so long keeping silent from everyone, it was physically hard to say the words.

  “What is it?”

  “Right before graduation, something happened.”

  “What?”

  “I went to a party.” She paused.

  “Did someone hurt you?” her mom asked softly.

  “No, nothing like that. I went to the party and I had sex, with Clay.”

  “Oh?”

  Her mother knew her well enough to not interrupt her once she got going. If she stopped her thought she would have a hard time starting up again, and she needed to get the whole story out.

  “It was my first time. He didn’t know, and we parted on really bad terms. And during…While we were…The condom broke.” She paused and looked away.

  “Jenna?”

  “I got pregnant.”

  Her mother didn’t say anything, but her grip on her hand tightened so much it hurt.

  “I didn’t tell anyone. I couldn’t tell you and Dad. I never even told Clay.”

  “What did you do about it?”

  “I had a miscarriage, right before I left for school.”

  “Jenna, you mean you kept that to yourself for almost three months?”

  “I didn’t know what to do.” She felt tears stinging her eyes and tried to blink them away. “I was so scared, and I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to disappoint you and Dad. I couldn’t tell Clay. I panicked, and I thought it could keep it a secret until I absolutely had to tell you.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. That you didn’t feel you could tell us,” her mom said softly as her grip relaxed a little. “Whatever you thought and whatever you were going to do, we would have supported you. You don’t have to tell me anything more if it’s too hard. I just want you to know that I love you. You will always be my daughter. I never want you to feel as though you can’t tell me what’s going on in your life. Nothing you could do could ever change how I feel about you.”

  She just stared at her mother, and her vision started to go blurry. She didn’t even try to stop the tears as they started to flow down her cheeks.

  She’d been holding that in for so long, and now that it was out she felt as if a weight had been lifted on her. She’d spent the past eight years terrified of what her mom would say if she ever found out, and her mother had just said the most perfect thing she could.

  It took a while for her tears to subside, but when they did and she felt more composed she took a deep breath and nodded. She could talk again.

  “What else is there? I imagine you didn’t contact Clay after not seeing him since everything happened.”

  “A few years after grad we met up at a party. I got drunk, and he took me to his place. He took care of me, made sure I was okay, and we kind of got together, again.”

  “And,” her mom prompted when she paused.

  “I told him about everything that happened, and we had a huge fight. When I left his place I honestly never thought he’d want to see me again. But then I came home after school and just before I moved I met up with him again. It was when my car broke down. He works at the garage you and Dad go to. We talked, things were great, and we spent a few days together. Then I moved.”

  “And when you needed a date to Dan’s wedding you thought of him?”

  “It was an impulse thing. I was checking out my news feed when I saw his name. I messaged him, and he messaged me back.”

  “You seemed to have a good time at the wedding.”

  “We did. It was really fun. But I’m going back to the city and his life is here.”

  “Did you spend the night with him? Is that why you’re so tired?”

  “I spent part of it with him. I left and came home around four.”

  “What happened?”

  “He didn’t want anything more.” She shrugged. “When I invited him I told him it was to reconnect as friends. He never offered more, but before I left I started feeling things, thinking about things.”

  “Like what?”

  “I wondered if maybe there was a future for us. I felt something for him. I feel like I could love him, but he doesn’t feel the same for me.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know what I was expecting. I never asked more of him, and he never let me think there was more there. It was me. I got carried away and instead of walking away as friends it feels like my heart is breaking.”

  That realization caused a whole new wave of tears. Her mom just scooted closer and pulled her into a hug. She cried into her shoulder, clinging to her and trying to draw out every bit of comfort she could.

  It was true. She’d had her heart broken by a man who didn’t even know he’d held it. She’d started to fall for a man who didn’t feel the same about her. Clay hadn’t broken her heart when he’d said they were different and then watched her leave. She’d broken it herself when she’d let herself get carried away with what could never have been.

  * * * *

  By the time she was back in her apartment in the city she felt dead on her feet. It wasn’t even suppertime, but she didn’t think she could risk sitting down without falling asleep.

  The drive home had been hard. She’d drunk so much coffee that her heart was still pounding from all the caffeine, but she could barely keep her eyes open. She’d had to stop four times in that two-hour drive. She’d pulled over at every rest stop to stretch her legs and get some fresh air. She’d been worried she would fall asleep while driving, and when she’d hit gridlock traffic just outside the city she’d nearly fallen asleep several times as she’d waited to get through.

  It should have taken her two hours to get home, and it had taken her almost twice as long. She still had a mountain of work to do, and she knew she’d never be able to concentrate, even if she wasn’t a walking zombie.

  Giving up, she w
ent to her room and crawled into bed. She set the alarm on her phone and then rolled over. She would sleep for a few hours and then get up and do her work. It wasn’t ideal, and it would most likely make tomorrow a really rough day, but she needed to sleep.

  As she closed her eyes she tried not to think about Clay and what had happened between them. Hopefully she would be able to look back on the night and smile at the memories, but right now they just hurt.

  Chapter 17

  A Downward Spiral

  2016—Real Life

  JENNA stared into her wine glass as she tried to shut down her mind. She was on her fourth glass and even the buzz she was feeling wasn’t stopping her thoughts.

  She felt lost.

  Her life was spinning out of control, and every time she thought she had a handle on things something else came along and kicked her back down. For every step she took forward, she was falling back three, and she didn’t know what to do.

  She picked up her phone and opened her text messages. Even with her eyesight blurring she looked at the top three messages and bit her lip. She had no idea why she was holding on to them, but she couldn’t bring herself to erase them.

  After a moment she tapped the last of the three and started scrolling through the messages, her throat tightening as she read them.

  They were from her closest friend, or at least the person she’d thought was her closest friend. She’d always known Patty suffered from depression and anxiety. It had never been a secret between them. They’d had moments when Patty would shut herself off from the world or lash out at her while she was struggling, but it had never been like this before. This was final, and it had come out of nowhere.

  Jenna, I’m writing you this to tell you that we can’t be friends anymore. I need to cut negativity out of my life, and I can’t handle the stress our friendship is causing. I used to be able to lean on you, but now I feel completely unsupported, and your issues are taking up too much of my time and energy. I tried to be there for you, but I can’t handle it anymore, so I’m asking you to take the time to figure out your life and to stay out of mine.

  You’re dragging me down, and I’m done with it. You’re the reason I’ve been suffering, and I finally see that now. You’ve been the problem the whole time, and in order for me to get better and be in a better place I need you to leave me alone. We were friends, but now we’re nothing. I don’t wish any harm on you, but I hope you get a taste of what you’ve been putting me through.

  Every problem in your life is your own fault and of your own doing. You’ve done all of this. You’ve created all your issues, and you’re a drama queen. It isn’t about you anymore. Now it’s about me. You think you have it so bad and that your life is so hard, but it really isn’t. Try living my life for one day, and you’d see what a pathetic loser you really are. You’re not special. You’re not unique, and you’re not the be all and end all of the world. You’re toxic and you’re fake, and everything that’s happening is Karma.

  Don’t contact me again or I’ll call the police and have you arrested for harassment. Goodbye forever.

  Everything in the message was something she’d already wondered about, and to read it from the person she thought was her best friend was devastating.

  It made her second-guess everything, and it made her wonder if everything that had happened was her fault. Had she caused all of the things she’d been dealing with?

  She shook her head and exited out of the message. She should just delete the entire thread and throw her phone in the corner, but she didn’t. Sighing and biting back tears, she opened the second message to read the last thing that had been sent.

  Patty might have been her closest friend, but Tristan had been her rock. Patty was flaky, and she wasn’t always the best support. When she’d failed, Tristan had been there to pick her up and help her find her feet again.

  Six months ago he’d moved out of state with his husband. They’d kept in touch, but then three months ago he’d messaged her to tell her that he was sick. She’d called him, and he’d told her the truth. He’d had a heart defect at birth and had a heart condition ever since. He’d come down with a virus, and it had weakened his heart to the point where he’d had a heart attack. The damage had been irreparable, and he was in heart failure. They’d put his name on the donor list, and everyone had been hopeful. He was thirty years old and otherwise healthy. He was the perfect candidate.

  That morning at ten a.m. her phone had beeped. When she’d opened her messages and seen his name she’d hoped for good news. It wasn’t good news.

  Jenna, it’s Brian. I had to tell you, but I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud without crying. Tristan died last night. He had another heart attack, and they couldn’t revive him. He’s gone.

  As she reread the words her wine glass fell from her hand, and she didn’t even hear it as it shattered on the floor. All she could hear was the roaring of her blood rushing through her veins and her own sobs as she started to cry. She was empty. The pit in her stomach felt like a boulder, and it was getting hard to breathe.

  She couldn’t believe he was gone. They’d been friends for six years. They’d shared everything and had been there for each other when they hadn’t had anyone else. She’d known about his heart, but he’d never told her just how serious it had been.

  He’d only been thirty years old. He should have been starting his life with his partner and planning a wonderful future, but he was dead. His life was over, and it hadn’t even had a chance to really start.

  She fell back on the cushions of her couch as she started to hyperventilate. She couldn’t pull in a breath, and in her haze she wasn’t able to focus enough to force herself to exhale completely before she tried to inhale again.

  The world in front of her eyes started to shimmer, and the rushing of her blood slowed until it was just a soft buzzing, like white noise.

  She was on the verge of passing out, and she didn’t care. She actually welcomed the darkness, because then maybe she’d finally be able to stop thinking.

  * * * *

  When she came to her chest felt as though there was someone sitting on it. Her entire body ached and her head was pounding. Her eyes were swollen, and she could barely open them as she turned her head, trying to orient herself.

  It took a long time before she was able to pull herself up so she was sitting, and when she looked around she saw it was daytime. She had no idea what time it was, but there was sunlight streaming in through her window.

  She shook her head, and her eyes landed on her phone. It was blinking.

  With shaking hands, she picked it up and unlocked it to see what the notification was about.

  It was a text message, and when she saw the name she forgot all about the pain in her body or the fuzziness in her head.

  She shouldn’t open it. She should just delete it and ignore it, but she had to know what he’d said. Hating herself she tapped on the message and read it.

  I saw you last night. I saw your light on and I knew you were home. I didn’t come to the door but I was watching you. If I ever see another man come near you or your place, I’ll kill you. You’re mine. You will always be mine.

  Forgetting all about the shattered wine glass she swung her legs over the side of the couch and jumped up.

  The moment her left foot touched the floor a pain unlike anything she’d ever felt shot through her leg. She opened her mouth to scream, but she couldn’t do more than gasp as it felt as though the wind was knocked out of her. Blinding pain exploded in her foot and travelled all the way up her leg, to her hip, and right into her back.

  She fell back in shock as her legs gave out on her. When she finally had the wherewithal to look down at her foot she nearly passed out again.

  It took a long time for her vision to clear and to get her breath back. When she did she looked at her foot again.

  She’d stepped on a large piece of glass and it was still sticking out of t
he center of her foot. Blood was leaking down around it and her foot was starting to swell slightly. She didn’t know what to do. She thought she might be in shock as the pain started to fade, and her entire body felt numb and cold all of a sudden.

  She groped for her phone. She’d dropped it on the couch beside her. Even as she tried to grip it her hand wouldn’t close. It took her three tries before she was able to pick it up, and a few more before she was able to unlock it and dial 9-1-1.

  “Emergency services. Do you require police, ambulance or fire?”

  “Ambulance.” Her voice was hollow, but she managed to force the word out.

  “What’s the nature of the emergency?”

  “I stepped on glass.”

  “I’m using the GPS on your phone to ping your location. Are you all right with that?”

  “Yes. That’s fine.”

  “Is the glass still in your foot?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t attempt to remove it. Can you elevate your foot so it’s above your heart?”

  “Like if I lay down and put it up?”

  “Yes. That would be ideal.”

  “I can do that.”

  “I’m reading an apartment building. What’s your number?”

  “602.”

  “On the sixth floor?”

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  “Is your door unlocked?”

  “No.”

  “Can you safely get to the door?”

  “There’s glass everywhere.”

  “Then just lie down and keep your foot elevated. Can you call your apartment manager and tell him to meet the EMTs? To bring them up to your apartment and let them in?”

  “I can try. I feel weird,” she said slowly. It was as if someone dumped freezing cold water on her and she was starting to shiver. She could barely move, and even talking was getting hard.

  “That’s okay. They can call them from the ambulance and alert them before they get to you. What’s your name, Miss?”

  “Jenna.”

  “Jenna, I’m Toby. Can you focus on my voice?”

  “Barely.”