A spasm surfaces, forcing my silence.
“Leah? Is that you? Is this a butt dial?”
“Lindsey. I . . . help . . .”
“Leah? What happened? Where are you? Where’s Heath?”
I look up and tell her the first thing I see, “Broadway Subs.”
“We’re on our way. I’ll call Heath from the car.”
“No. No Heath.” My body shudders at the images replaying in my head. “Oh, Lindsey.” They’re the last words I get out before another wave of sobs takes hold.
I sit like this for what feels like hours before I hear the slam of a car door and footsteps draw near.
“It’s okay, honey. You’re okay.” Eli pulls me from my seat, and my body sways, forcing me to grip his shirt for balance. “Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?”
His hands roam my body as he speaks, looking for any signs of injury. I want to tell him not to bother because he won’t find anything, but my throat is too tight to speak. He gives up his search and pulls me in, wrapping me in his arms in an attempt to ease my pain.
“Linds, call Heath. Tell him we need him now.”
“No! No! No! Not Heath.” That name brings me to my senses and I begin to frantically twist and plea into his shoulder, “Not Heath. Not Heath.”
Not Heath. Not my Heath.
“Okay, I won’t call Heath. I promise,” he whispers in my ear as he cocoons me in his arms.
Lindsey runs her hand across my back. “Leah, you’re going to be okay, honey,” she reassures me from beside Eli. “Whatever it is, Eli and I are here for you.”
I manage a single nod in response even though, right now, I can’t see how I’ll ever be okay again.
It’s not long before I find myself curled up on Eli and Lindsey’s sofa, the trip there a total blur. She tucks a blanket around me before taking a seat on one end of me while Eli is on my other.
The crying has stopped, replaced now with processing the what and the how of the last few hours.
I hear them whispering back and forth across my body, but I only respond when I hear one of them mention Heath’s name.
“No,” I say sharply, not even sure of what they were discussing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eli give a jerk of his head, either in confusion or anger, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.
They continue mumbling until I feel Lindsey rise from the sofa and lean down to me. “Leah, honey, I’m going to the store. Can I get you anything?”
I force myself to look up at her and whisper through strands of hair that have dried to my cheek, “No, thanks.”
Sympathy is in every line of her face as she pulls the hair away before walking out the door.
The second she’s gone, Eli takes a seat in front of me on the coffee table and leads me to a sitting position. He warms my chilled hands in his heated ones. “What did he do?” His voice is forcibly gentle, but I know him well enough to know he’s holding back.
I take a deep breath and drop my head, my face twisting at the last image I have of Heath.
Eli lets go of one of my hands to lift my chin, dragging my eyes to his. “Leah, I need you to tell me what he did.”
Why? So, he can hurt Heath? Or, better yet, hate him? The damage is done. I’ve lost the man I loved. Who I thought might have loved me in return.
No sense in causing Eli to lose his best friend when he clearly warned me from the beginning.
My head spins with thoughts of the last few hours. How long has this been going on? Did he ever really care about me?” And the one thought I can’t escape, What is wrong with me? The humiliation is taking root in my gut and growing by the second. I’ve never felt like such a worthless, used piece of garbage.
“Leah, please.” Eli has resorted to begging, and it’s all because of me.
I have to give him something.
“We broke up.” The three words I never imagined would cross my lips scratch at my throat. “That’s all.”
“Broke up? What? Why? Are you sure it’s not just a fight?”
A single pained laugh escapes my scratchy throat. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Do you want me to talk to him? Straighten this out?”
My eyes jump to his and now I’m the one begging. “No. Promise me, you won’t do anything.”
He sighs, defeated, and smooths back my hair. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
I hear him in the kitchen, and when he comes back a minute later, it’s with a glass of white wine.
“Drink this.”
I hesitate to take it.
“Just one. It’ll help you relax.”
I take the smallest sip and appreciate the sweet coolness as it glides down my throat. Before I know it, the glass is empty.
Lindsey walks in, balancing Chinese carryout in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. “Anybody hungry? I picked up a bite to eat.”
Without a word, there’s a plate of food in front of me and a fresh glass of wine in my hand. I take only a few bites of rice but manage to drink another two glasses of wine.
Before I pass out from alcohol and emotional exhaustion, Lindsey lends me some pajamas and gives me a toothbrush. When I lie down in their guest room, it’s with a spinning head and a shattered heart.
Eli and Lindsey have been nothing but supportive these last few days I’ve been staying with them.
Eli was kind enough to deal with Heath about giving us some time alone at the condo, so we’re on our way to pick up my things. I was tempted to ask if Heath asked about me, but common sense prevailed.
The door to the condo swings open and I step inside, like I have done so many times before. But this time, it feels like a dream. Like that gut-wrenching day never happened and Heath is here, lying on the couch, smiling up at me after a long day at work. Instead, I’m greeted by an empty room.
Everything is in the same place I left it. The apples are towered neatly in the bowl on the counter. The remotes are lined up on the coffee table. There are no empty pizza boxes, discarded beer bottles, or dirty laundry strewn about—the typical signs of a man suffering from a broken heart.
That’s because this is the home of a man who pulverizes hearts for sport.
With my head down, I walk swiftly through the bedroom to the bathroom to grab my makeup and toiletries, throwing them in a duffel before leaving just as quickly and dropping the bag by the front door.
Dreading going back for more, I hold my breath like I’m rushing through smoke, focusing on the far wall as I pass the bed and make my way through to the closet, expelling a deep breath as I grab a wide armful of hanging clothes.
Just as I’m halfway across the room, items start to slip out from my arms and fall to the floor. I struggle to catch what I can, but more drop as I bend to pick up a dress tangled at my feet. This time, when I twist to pick them up, tears flood my eyes as I catch sight of the bed.
It’s perfectly made, as if I had done it myself. The navy paisley comforter I bought us is on straight and even. The throw pillows are organized the way I like with the big navy ones in the back, the smaller paisley ones in the front, and the final round solid-white pillow placed directly in the center. The same pillows he always made fun of. But it’s that simple round pillow, the one he always tossed around like a Frisbee, that undoes the fragile hold I have on my emotions.
I give up on trying to rescue my clothes, letting the rest fall to the floor and me along with them until I’m on my knees, crying.
He never cared. I never meant to him what I thought I did. And he had no plans of ever saying those three words back to me.
Eli’s at my side, coaxing me up, as Lindsey shuffles by with an armful of clothes. When we leave the room for the last time, I close the bedroom door behind us, making it clear to my friends that it’s to stay that way. Anything I may have left behind isn’t worth the pain of going back for again.
Lindsey is boxing up my books. Instead of wrapping up the picture frames, she’s placed them on the c
offee table, presumably for me to choose the ones I’d like to take. I hand her only the ones that don’t include Heath. Mixed among the frames is the pink tin. Hesitating, I finally open it and gaze down on the mass of pennies. Each one, a wish. The same wish I've made as long as I can remember. That I would someday find a man who loved me as much as my dad loved my mom.
I walk to the kitchen and pull out the sliding garbage can. Turning the tin over, I watch the sunlight glisten off every last penny as they pour out and spread along the trash. The metal of the tin gives off a weak clink as it lands atop the pile of coins.
I don’t consider the regret I may feel later, or the sadness at the loss of every wish I made in honor of my dad. I don’t feel anything right now, and I don’t care if I ever do again.
Heath
Even after spending the day in the field house, the music screaming in my ears and the sweat dripping from my body, it wasn’t enough to quiet the noise in my head.
I walk through my condo door—expecting what exactly, I’m not sure. Until I walk in and see . . . nothing. Everything looks just as it was. Like she is still here and is going to walk around the corner any second now, with her hair piled on top of her head and wearing one of my old T-shirts. The image is lost when I turn and see the bookshelves. The ones I ordered just for her and all of her books.
She was so happy the day they were delivered. Lying on the sofa, I watched as she arranged and rearranged them at least three times. She kept asking if she was boring me, but if I’m being honest, watching her ass as she reached up high or bent down low was the furthest thing from bored a guy could be. I was just disappointed I didn’t have a bowl of popcorn. So, I did the next best thing. I pulled her down to the rug and showed her just how bored I was.
She eventually decided to shelve them by color, like a full-blown rainbow right in our family room. Now that they’re gone and the shelves are mostly bare, the whole space just feels gray and empty.
You did what you had to do.
I grab a protein drink from the fridge and twist off the metal cap before sliding out the garbage just far enough to toss it in. It takes a second before my brain registers the odd pinging sound and rattle that comes from the can as it slides back in. I’m about to take a large gulp when it hits me.
That noise.
My body moves in slow motion as I pull out the can, already dreading what I’m going to find. And there it is. Her pink tin, the one physical thing she cherished above all others, sitting atop a mountain of pennies. Every one a memory, a wish. And they’re now mixed with junk mail and leftover takeout.
My head drops as reality sinks in. This may be my biggest fuck up yet.
Leah
Staying with Eli and Lindsey has been just what I needed. Easy. They allow me my space, although I spend most of my days at work, and they don’t ever dare breathe a word about him.
So, when Lindsey comes to sit a few feet away from me on the sofa, clears her throat as she turns toward me, I’m caught a little off guard.
“How’s work?” she asks, motioning toward the laptop resting on my lap.
“Good. How’s yours?” I give a tight smile because, actually, work isn’t good. It’s tiring, and I’m frustrated that I’m working yet another Saturday. But I don’t have the energy to get into it with her, and I’m gauging that’s not what she really wants to talk about anyway.
“Good.”
There’s a tense, unfamiliar silence between us that, under any other circumstances, I might be more concerned about. But, like most things lately, I just can’t bring myself to care.
“Eli and I talked last night.” She looks at me like I should understand what this means. When I don’t offer her a response, she continues, “About the two of you. Actually, it was more of an argument than a conversation. Our first fight.”
Her shoulders slouch, and guilt roils my gut.
“I’m trying hard to understand your friendship. Then and now.” She pauses, and I have no choice but to sit patiently. “I guess it’s hard for me because I’ve never stayed close with any of my exes. And you two just aren’t close, you’re—”
I cut her off. “Best friends. And, despite our brief attempt at a relationship, Lindsey, we’ll only ever be best friends.”
I watch her face as she processes my words, but I’m unable to discern if she believes me.
I know what she’s thinking, what she’s too nice to say. There’s no way for her relationship with Eli to survive as long as another woman he’s been intimate with is living under the same roof. Not to mention, one that works fourteen-hour days only to come home and drink wine until she passes out.
It’s time to face the fact that I’m no good for anyone here.
I could go back to my mom’s. She’s been pushing for me to stay with her, but I know the woman too well. She’d corner me until I talked, which would mean admitting how ignorant and naïve I was. And she’d have zero tolerance for the nightly drinking, not understanding it’s the only way I can fall asleep these days.
When we’re done talking, I pick up my phone and send a text because it comes down to what’s best for my best friend, and that is not having me here. So, after weeks of Eli and Lindsey caring for me like I’m a wounded animal, there’s only one option left. It’s time to be released out into the wild. And, by the wild, I mean, Chicago.
“You’ll need to sign everywhere there is a yellow tab,” Burger says as he flips page after page of the document. “So, you understand the two key components of this contract?” He’s talking to me like I’m a toddler, but I don’t care.
A silent head bob is all I offer.
“First, you are committing to one full year of employment, or you’ll have to repay the signing bonus you’ll be receiving in your first check. And, second, they can sue you if you go to any competing agency within six months after your departure.”
Another head bob. He looks to Eli for confirmation before continuing.
“After you’ve read it through and signed every page, I’ll get this right over to them. When that’s done, you’ll get a call from their relocation service to set up a day to move your things.” Burger pushes the papers my way. “And if you put your notice in tomorrow morning like we discussed, you can expect your start date to be in three weeks.”
Feeling like too much of a burden to everyone and in desperate need of a new setting, I texted Burger and asked if the job offer still stood. Fortunately for me, this new account brought them more work than they had originally anticipated, so it was just a matter of negotiating the contract, which was really just me saying yes to everything.
That’s why I’m sitting at Eli’s kitchen table as he takes the contract from me and begins to study every line.
I can’t fool Eli, though. As much as I try for a happy front, he knows I’m not in a good place. He’s nice enough not to talk about Heath in any capacity in front of me. If he’s seeing him, he never mentions it. And I love him for that.
“I don’t need a relocation service, Burger. I found a furnished apartment online, so I’ll just have a few suitcases. It’s Chicago, not a Third World nation. If I need something, there’s bound to be a Target or Walgreens at every corner,” I chide.
“Okay then,” he ignores my attitude. “In that case, I think that’s everything. You should be good to go.”
Burger is all smiles, so I force a weak one of my own. This faking-happiness thing is exhausting.
Eli and I stand and walk Burger to the door. He hugs me, and I do my best to feign the same warmth.
“Leah, thank you. I’m only telling you this because we’re friends, but I really needed this. Whatever happens, just make sure you don’t bail before ninety days. That’s when I get my commission.”
“No worries there, Burger. Not only will I make it ninety days, but I might never come back.”
I throw a fake laugh his way, at the same time I feel Eli tense up beside me. He eventually needs to learn the truth. Because I would leave r
ight now with only the clothes on my back if it meant I could get as far away from here as possible. Besides the stress I put on Eli and Lindsey’s relationship, there are too many reminders of Heath and what a pathetic fool I am.
I can’t get to Chicago fast enough.
Heath
“I’m having trouble transferring all the photos to our new laptop. Do you think you can come by and take a look at it?” Eli asks as he sinks his shot.
“Just call me. I’ll walk you through it.”
“It’s not like I don’t know how to transfer files, dude. But only half of the pictures show up when I try, and if I lose them, Lindsey is going to kill me.”
I dribble around him and shoot, missing the net by a solid two feet. “I told you, I’ll walk you through it,” I respond, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.
I rebound the ball and come back in for another shot, dribbling around him until I realize he’s not covering me. He’s not even trying.
“She’s not staying with us anymore.”
I ignore him.
“I know that’s what you’re worried about. Seeing Leah. But she’s not there. She actually . . . took a job in Chicago.”
Like I didn’t already know.
I shoot again. And miss.
“You ever going to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” I ask flippantly as I jog after the ball.
“You know exactly what.”
I pass the ball to him, but he lets it bounce past, his focus tight on me.
“Don’t be an ass. Are you going to tell me what happened? Because she won’t. I think she’s too worried that you and I won’t be friends anymore. And that tells me one thing. You seriously fucked-up.”
“Wow. Thanks for that vote of confidence. I hate to pop your perfect Leah bubble, but I’m not the one to blame here. She left me.” I just ended things before she could.
“You’re full of shit. You forget, I know you better than you know yourself.”
“No, I don’t forget, Eli. I don’t forget anything.”
Sweetest Heartbreak (Sweetness Book 1) Page 11
