Rising from the Ashes

by Jessica Prince

  “Is everything okay, dear?” Mr. Cordova asked with concern written all over his face.

  In our brief conversations throughout the evening, it had become obvious that those two men were both decent individuals who had been conned by my mother and father. If it was the last thing I ever did, I was determined to set the record straight before either of the men got tied to something they would eventually regret.

  “Forgive me for doing this here, but I think both of you gentlemen should know exactly who you’re considering putting your money behind.” I turned my full body to face both of the men as I pointed to my father. “Robert Morgan isn’t the kind of man you think he is. He’s a horrible husband and an even worse father. He’s an abuser, a cheater, and an all-around disgusting human being. Backing him for political office would be a bad decision on both your parts. If he’s elected as state senator, I suggest you move out of the district.”

  I turned on my fabulous heels and strode out of the country club with my head held up just a little higher. Everything else might have been falling apart in my life, but I’d finally cut the cord tethering me to my parents. I was done with them, and that felt better than I could have imagined it would.

  I sat alone in my living room with a bottle of whiskey in my hand doing the same thing I’d done every night for the past week and a half—getting drunk. I would wake up with a hangover, down water and aspirin, head to work, and then come home and start the whole damn thing over again. That had been my life since I left Savannah.

  Nothing I did made me feel any better or loosened the knot that had taken permanent residence in my chest. Drinking didn’t ease the pain. It just allowed me to pass out for a few hours since sleeping wasn’t an option. I missed her. Not being with her was like losing a limb, but I couldn’t bring myself to forgive her. It wasn’t so much the abortion as it was knowing that she would always put me last.

  I was about a half hour away from total oblivion when someone started knocking on my front door. I slammed the Jack down on the coffee table, and stood up, instantly staggered to the side, banging my shin on the coffee table. “Sonofabitch!” I muttered as I stumbled to the door, pulling it open without even checking to see who was standing there.

  My vision was slightly blurry, but I was still able to make out the sweater set and dark brown hair. Even if I hadn’t been able to see, I still would have known who it was strictly from the cloying perfume threatening to suffocate me.

  “What are you doing here, Charlotte?” I slurred.

  Her brows wrinkled in concern as she took in my haggard appearance. “I wanted to check on you. I heard what happened between you and Savannah, and despite how things ended between us, I still care about you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  If I’d been completely in my right mind, I’d like to think that I would have been capable of making smarter decisions. But that wasn’t the case. I stepped to the side and let Charlotte into my apartment then proceeded to collapse back onto the couch before taking a healthy swig straight from the bottle I had grabbed off of the coffee table.

  “As you can see”—I indicated with a wave of my half-empty whiskey bottle—“I couldn’t be better.”

  Charlotte sat down next to me and placed her hand gently on my knee. “I hate seeing you like this, Jeremy. It isn’t you.”

  I laid my head on the back of the couch, closed my eyes, and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “You shouldn’t have come here, Charlotte. I’m not exactly the best company right now.”

  I kept my eyes shut as I felt her hand begin to travel up my thigh, squeezing slightly. In the back of my foggy brain, I knew it was a mistake not to brush her off right away, but the alcohol was clouding all rational thought, and all I could concentrate on was how damn good it felt to have someone touching me.

  I shook my head and tried to stop her, but the effort was halfhearted at best. “Charlotte, you really shouldn’t—”

  “Shh,” she whispered into my ear before kissing my neck.

  When did she get so damn close?

  All thoughts of pushing her away fled my mind when her hand slid up and started rubbing my dick through the denim of my pants.

  Christ, that feels good. I let out a deep moan and thrust my hips up against her hand.

  “Let me make you feel good, baby.” She ran her tongue along the shell of my ear as she increased the speed of her hand between my legs.

  At that very moment, letting her make me feel good seemed like the best idea I’d ever heard. She popped the button of my jeans and began to unzip them. I spread my legs wider to give her better access.

  “Do you want that, Jeremy?” she asked in a seductive voice. “Do you want me to make it all better?” She slid off the couch and onto her knees between my spread thighs.

  “Yeah, I want that,” I panted breathlessly as she took the head of my cock into her mouth and began to suck greedily. “Fuck yeah,” I moaned, thrusting up to force her to take even more of me. “Suck it hard, baby.” My eyes were still squeezed closed tightly as I felt that telltale tingle in my spine.

  Everything except my impending orgasm began to blur, and my grip on reality became even looser as I pumped into the hot mouth surrounding me. All of the bad shit that had happened over the last few weeks finally began to melt away as the image of golden blonde hair filled my head.

  “That’s so fuckin’ good, Savannah,” I groaned deeply as I began to come. That was the last thing I recalled until the next morning.

  It had been three days since my disastrous dinner with my parents, and I hadn’t heard a peep out of either of them, not that I’d really expected to. I’d driven the final nail into that particular coffin, and I didn’t even regret it. I’d spent the last three days working, running, or obsessively cleaning my house. I did anything and everything to keep my mind off of what needed to be done next.

  The box of Jeremy’s stuff sat on my dining room table like a beacon shining on every wrong decision I’d made in the past seven years. I couldn’t stare at it any longer.

  Finally summoning up the courage I needed, I grabbed the box, put it in the back of my car, and made my way to Jeremy’s apartment. After I dropped it off, there would officially be nothing left between us. That thought was like a punch to the sternum, but I knew there was no way to really begin moving on unless I cut that last tie.

  The ten-minute drive seemed to go by in a flash, and before I knew it, I was parking and turning off my car in front of his building. I sat there, staring up at his bedroom window, trying to loosen the fist that seemed to be squeezing all the air from my lungs. Bolstering as much fake confidence as I could, I stepped out of my car and retrieved the box from the backseat. Each step toward his door caused the anxiety to bubble up in my stomach. I didn’t know how I was going to face him, but I knew I had to.

  I finally reached his door and gave it a few firm knocks. Then, I waited…and waited…and waited some more. I started to think that he wasn’t home, and I bent to place the box on the bench next to the door when I heard the deadbolt disengage. I quickly stood and ran a shaky hand through my hair just as the door swung open.

  “Can I help you?”

  My head began to swim and the edges of my vision darkened.

  My head felt like it was being squeezed in a vise and my stomach rolled as I peeled my eyes open. Sunlight was shining through my bedroom window, bright enough to blind a person, which only caused me to feel worse. It wasn’t until I rolled over with a groan, attempting to get away from the light, that I noticed I was lying in bed, stark naked.

  What the hell?

  Pushing past the pain, I sat up in bed and gently swung my legs over the side. That was when I saw the bra and panties on my bedroom floor…right next to the discarded condom.

  Oh fuck! Images from the night before began flashing through my mind, and there was no doubt that I’d completely fucked up.

  I stood on shaky legs and reached for a pair of swe
atpants that had been thrown over a chair. I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t hope that Charlotte was already gone, but seeing her underwear on my bedroom floor was kind of an indicator that she was still here somewhere. I had to find her and get her ass out before she grabbed on to some insane notion that a drunken fuck meant we’d gotten back together. I’d just stepped into the hallway when I heard voices coming from the living room area.

  Turning the corner, I saw Charlotte standing at the threshold of the front door, wearing one of my white T-shirts, and from the looks of it, nothing else.

  What the fuck is going on?

  “Can I help you?” she asked in an agitated tone.

  “Uh…no. I was…I just wanted to drop this off.”

  A cold sweat broke out on my skin, and my stomach revolted violently at the sound of Savannah’s voice coming from the other side of the door.

  Oh Christ. Oh no.

  Several emotions ran through me at once—fear that Savannah saw Charlotte in nothing but my shirt at the butt crack of dawn and what she must have been thinking, and then anger at Charlotte for having the nerve to answer my fucking door in the first goddamned place.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded as I jerked the door out of Charlotte’s hand to open it wider.

  The pain and unshed tears shining in Savannah’s eyes were a direct hit to the gut. Just because we weren’t together anymore didn’t mean I wanted to cause her unnecessary pain, and seeing a half naked Charlotte in my apartment was absolutely unnecessary.

  “I…I’m sorry. I should have called,” she stammered. One lone tear escaped, but she batted it away quickly and turned to pick something up off the ground. “I just wanted to return the rest of your stuff. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  She refused to meet my eyes as she practically threw the box at me. She turned on her heels and was just about to run down the steps when I stepped out of the door and called her name. I wasn’t completely sure why, but I couldn’t let her leave, thinking that something more was going on with Charlotte.

  “Savannah, wait!”

  She paused and partially turned. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for just showing up.”

  I saw the rise and fall of her chest as she took a deep breath before locking her eyes with mine. The emptiness in her gaze filled my gut with fear.

  “Don’t worry, Jer. It won’t happen again.”

  Then, she was gone.

  I stood in place, frozen to the core.

  When I turned back toward my apartment, box in hand, I saw Charlotte standing there with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed.

  “That bitch sure has some nerve, just showing up here,” she huffed out.

  That one short sentence was enough to send my precarious anger over the edge. “You’re the devil, you know that? What the fuck are you still doing here?” I seethed as I pushed past her and back into my apartment, slamming the door behind me.

  “What do you mean? I thought we—”

  I cut her off with a swipe of my hand, already knowing exactly what she’d thought. “You came over to my place last night, uninvited, while I was shitfaced drunk, and you propositioned me, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell I was in my right mind enough to turn you down. If you think last night was anything other than a drunken fuck, you’re seriously out of your head.”

  She reared back like I’d just hit her. “Are you serious right now?”

  She tried to grab a hold of me, but I wrenched my arms out of her grasp.

  “As a heart attack, Charlotte. You need to get dressed and get the hell out of my house.” I turned and headed to the bathroom.

  “You don’t mean that, Jeremy,” she pleaded.

  “Oh, I mean it,” I said over my shoulder. “If you’re still here by the time I’m done taking a piss, I’ll show you exactly how much I mean it. Get. Out.”

  With that, I slammed the bathroom door and stood there until I heard her leave.

  That was it. I was done drinking.

  I pulled up to my house to see Lizzy’s car in my driveway. There was no way I could cover up the fact that I’d been crying my eyes out the whole way home. I walked in and dropped my purse on the table by the door.

  “Hey, babe,” Lizzy called from my kitchen. “Stacia and I stopped by to discuss Thanksgiving and your birthday.”

  Oh, fantastic. Now I was going to experience my humiliation in front of two of my friends. And I wanted to talk about Thanksgiving and my birthday as much as I wanted a hole in my head.

  “I know it’s barely noon, but we cracked open a bottle of wine already. Hope you don’t—”

  Lizzy’s words cut off as soon as she and Stacia rounded the corner into my foyer and saw my red-rimmed, puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks. I was a very ugly crier.

  “What’s wrong?” they asked in unison.

  I couldn’t speak past the tears clogging my throat, so I just shook my head.

  “Jesus,” Stacia gasped. “When was the last time you ate, Savvy? You look like you’ve lost at least ten pounds since the last time I saw you.”

  She wasn’t too far off the mark. I hadn’t really eaten all that much in the past two weeks, and with all the running I’d been doing as a stress reliever, the weight had kind of been falling off.

  “Why have you been crying?” Lizzy asked.

  I couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up. Every time I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they somehow had. What started off as humorless laughter turned into hysterics as I thought about how each day had gotten shittier than the one before. Lizzy and Stacia stood there, staring at me, as I hunched over, laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face. My abs ached by the time I was finished. They just stayed silent, blinking, while they let me get myself together.

  I sucked in a deep breath, still giggling a little, as I filled Stacia and Lizzy in on the latest development. “I made the mistake of dropping off the last of Jeremy’s stuff this morning without calling.”

  They led me into the kitchen, and Stacia poured me a glass of wine. I downed the entire thing in just a few gulps and handed it back to her for a refill.

  “Did you guys get into a fight or something?” Lizzy asked.

  I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh no, nothing like that. We hardly spoke at all after Charlotte answered the door, wearing nothing but his T-shirt.”

  “WHAT?” they both screeched.

  I downed my second glass of wine, and waved the empty glass, indicating I was in need of more. Stacia was right there to fill it.

  “Yeah, looks like they’re back together. Sure didn’t waste any time,” I muttered into my glass before I took a big gulp.

  “I can’t believe that,” Lizzy said as she took a seat on a bar stool.

  “Well, believe it,” I replied. “So you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not really in the mood to talk about Thanksgiving or birthdays. Seeing Jeremy post-sex with my archenemy kind of put a damper on things. Not to mention, Emmy’s still not talking to me, which probably means Luke isn’t talking to me either. And with Jeremy already hating me, plus being back together with Charlotte, I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be taking a pass on our Thanksgiving dinner plans.”

  Stacia walked up to me and placed an arm around my shoulders. “You know as well as I do that Emmy will eventually get over this. She just needs a little time. She’ll come to her senses, I promise.”

  “You can’t promise that,” I said as I shook my head at her. “I screwed up big time. On a scale of one to ten, my mistake ranks up at a billion.”

  “She was just hurt, Savvy. Losing Ella still affects her, and she handled it badly,” Lizzy said.

  I couldn’t tell who she was trying to convince more—me or herself.

  Stacia tried her best to comfort me. “The two of you will make up. You’ve been best friends since forever. This fight won’t end the relationship between y’all.”

  “How do you know?” I asked. “It’s not like there’s anything to
base that fact on. Emmy and I have never gotten into a fight in our lives. We couldn’t stand to be mad at each other for more than a few minutes, let alone days. She’s never not talked to me before. I don’t see her getting over this anytime soon.”

  “Have a little faith, Savvy,” Lizzy told me. “Things can only go up from here.”

  I appreciated them trying to cheer me up, but it was no use. We chatted for a while longer before I feigned a headache, and they left, so I could lie down and sleep it off.

  Trying to rest was a wasted effort. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could picture was Jeremy and Charlotte, together. And every time I pictured them together, my stomach knotted up, so I spent the remainder of the day pacing and chewing my nails down to the quick.

  When my own company became too annoying, I pulled on my running clothes and decided I’d go on a much needed run. I still hated exercise, but I couldn’t deny the stress relieving aspects of it. And, surprisingly, I’d gotten pretty good at it. I no longer felt like I wanted to die after I finished, and I’d managed to cut time off of each mile. If I wasn’t so miserable, I’d be proud of myself.

  As I ran, I’d decided to deviate from my original route and I went a different way instead. My iPod was cranked up to help drown out the images of Jeremy and Charlotte that my mind had managed to conjure up.

  I’d just finished my second mile when I noticed that the route I’d taken had led me straight to Ben’s street. I’d never been to his place, but he’d told me all about it and I knew I was just a few houses away. I knew that the thought that popped into my head at that moment couldn’t lead to anything good, but I didn’t care anymore. I was so tired of making decisions based on what was best for everyone but me. All I cared about right then was forgetting about the pain I’d been feeling. I wanted to do something for myself for once even if I would regret it later.

  I made my way up the path to his front door as the plan took form in my head. I felt a massive sense of determination as I lifted my hand and rapped my knuckles on the heavy wooden door. I hadn’t even considered how late it was until he opened the door, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants, his hair mussed up from sleep.