by S. H. Kolee
My shock started to wear off and I felt an incredible rage start to build in me. Jackson had deceived me again. He had probably been deceiving me this entire time. He was still sleeping with that slut, right under my nose. I wanted to scream and curse, but it didn't seem strong enough of a reaction. The feelings roiling in me were too strong, too sharp, too fucking painful to put into words. It felt as if my heart was being cut out with a knife and I was forced to stand by and watch.
"Was that Marcie, sweetheart?"
I slowly looked up from the phone, at Jackson's smiling face. I wanted to scratch that face, I wanted to run to him and punch and kick him. For lying to me. For hurting me. It was all so unnecessary. Why couldn't he have just left me alone?
Jackson's smile vanished as he got a closer look at my expression. "What's wrong?"
I threw his phone at him with all my might, watching it crash against the wall and break in two when Jackson quickly ducked.
"What the hell was that for?"
I stalked closer to Jackson until we were inches apart. "You are a piece of shit."
Jackson grabbed my arm, looking confused. "Emma! What's going on?"
I ripped my arm from his grasp, laughing coldly although with a tinge of hysteria. "Is this some sort of game to you? Let's see how much I can fuck over Emma? Is your life so empty that you have to amuse yourself by making me believe you actually cared?"
"For Christ's sake, Emma! What are you talking about?"
"Claire."
The one word made Jackson's face drain of color. He glanced at the broken phone on the ground and he couldn't mask the guilt in his eyes. "Shit. Emma, I can explain."
I shook my head frantically. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything from you. I don't ever want to see you. Don't ever contact me again."
I turned to leave but was pulled back abruptly by Jackson's hand on my arm. "Stop it! Emma, I was just contacting Claire because I needed some answers. I needed to know why she lied to me about you being married to Sean. I needed to know what she said to you all those years ago when she told you about us. You wouldn't tell me."
"Oh, so this is my fault?" I spat out, feeling disgusted.
Jackson shook his head. "No! That's not what I'm saying." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Sweetheart, please. I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have contacted Claire. But it was driving me crazy. I needed to know what she said to you, why it was enough to make you not contact me all these years even though you yourself admitted that you still loved me. The thought that we were apart all these years when we didn't need to be - it was killing me."
"Congratulations," I said coldly. The pain was replaced with a numbness, as if my body were protecting me, knowing that I couldn't handle the searing pain that had been sweeping through me. "You can get all the answers you want from her. Maybe you can discuss what went wrong this time too. It might have something to do with the fact that I don't believe a fucking word you're saying!"
I screamed the last part, the numbness melting away as anguish overtook me. I ripped my necklace off, the delicate chain snapping with the force of my pull, and threw the diamond pendant at him. I watched it bounce off his body and fall to the floor.
Jackson grabbed my other arm so that I was forced to face him fully. He shook me, as if he were trying to make me believe him by force.
"Emma, it's true! Please! I shouldn't have contacted her, but don't make it out to be something more than it is."
I looked at Jackson with dead eyes, forcing myself to keep my head upright. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter why you contacted her. It's enough that you did. Take your hands off me. I never want to see you again."
"Emma, no." Jackson's plea was anguished as he pulled me close, burying his face in my hair. "Sweetheart, I love you. Please don't do this."
His mouth traveled to my lips, kissing me tenderly but I refused to respond. I couldn't feel anything. Jackson's kiss became harder when I didn't respond, becoming desperate. The pressure was so hard that I dimly wondered if my teeth would cut the inside of my mouth.
Jackson broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Sweetheart?" He sounded uncertain and scared.
"Are you going to force me or can I leave now?"
Jackson froze at my words, his hands slowly sliding down my body until they dropped to his sides. He looked stunned and I quickly backed away, needing space. I felt my self-control starting to crumble and I was going to start wailing with grief soon. I needed to get out of there before it happened.
I grabbed my bag that I had dropped on the couch and rushed to the front door. I didn't look behind me, not wanting any more memories of Jackson. I already had enough to haunt me for a lifetime.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next few days went by in a haze. I functioned on autopilot at work, trying to keep the tenuous grip I had on my sanity. A part of me expected Jackson to try and contact me, but his silence told me everything I needed to know.
Somehow, I got through the week without breaking down at work. Nights at home were a different story. All I seemed to do was cry, and when I ran out of tears I would lay in bed, my body wracked with trembles. I spent a good amount of time each morning trying to cover the dark circles under my eyes and minimize the puffiness of my face, but I knew I still looked like hell. I shut down all questions from Celeste and Drew, not wanting to even think about Jackson. Marie knew to keep her distance, only disrupting me when absolutely necessary.
Wednesday had been a nightmare as I wondered whether Jackson and Claire had met up as planned. A sick part of me wanted to go to Starbucks, to see if I could catch them in the act. But it was too pathetic of a gesture and I kept my distance. Friday wasn't much better as I wondered about the interview we had scheduled. What excuse would Marcie give to the magazine for us backing out so abruptly? I was worried what the reaction of the press would be if they got wind of our breakup.
Craig was still waiting for me wherever I went, but I refused to accept his rides. He was reduced to following me around as I jumped into cabs. I ducked into the subway one morning, determined to lose him, but he was waiting for me when I ascended the stairs at my destination stop. Unfortunately, he knew my routine by now and seemed to magically appear everywhere I went. He ignored my frustrated pleas to leave me alone, that he should speak to Jackson since he didn't seem to have gotten the news that Jackson and I were no longer together. As much as I wanted to yell and scream at Craig to leave me alone, I knew that I would just be taking out my hurt and anger at Jackson on Craig. Craig was just trying to do his job, although he seemed a bit misguided about the status of the current situation. I decided the best thing to do was just ignore him.
I was relieved when Saturday rolled around so that I could spend the weekend holed up in bed. I had been obsessively searching Jackson's name online for any news, knowing it was self-destructive but not being able to stop myself. Fortunately, for the sake of my sanity, there didn't seem to be any news about him. So instead, I spent hours staring at pictures of us that were posted on various gossip websites. Jackson looked at me so lovingly in those pictures. I couldn't understand how he could be so tender and sweet, yet betray me once again. I didn't understand why he even bothered trying to restart our relationship when he was planning on cheating with Claire again. I didn't buy his story about just wanting to talk to her. I was done being naive.
I was disgusted with myself that I still jumped every time my phone rang. I told myself it wasn't because I wanted Jackson back, to have him give me some sort of explanation that I could accept. It was because I wanted him suffering as much as I was, I wanted him desperate to talk to me, to win me back. I wanted to believe that a part of him truly meant all those words of love and tenderness that had dropped so easily from his lips. That he was now regretting throwing our relationship away.
But his silence continued. It told me that I was expendable, that I had been fooling myself. If the Jackson Reynard of five years ago couldn't be faithful t
o me, what made me think that the Jackson Reynard of today could? I had witnessed women falling all over him at Hydra, the subtle and not-so-subtle invitations they gave him through suggestive looks.
I ignored the calls from Trisha and my mother, knowing that I wouldn't be able to speak to them without breaking down. I couldn't explain to them what had happened. I especially didn't want to talk to Trisha. She would be nothing but sympathetic, but I knew what she would be thinking. That I had let myself be tricked again. Stupid, naive Emma. So desperate for Jackson's love that she was willing to let herself get duped again.
I was in no better shape on Monday morning, glaring at Craig when I saw him waiting for me outside my apartment building. My hostility towards Jackson was translating into rudeness towards Craig, even though I had told myself it wasn't Craig's fault. I was about to pass by him without a second look when he stopped me with an outstretched hand.
"Ms. Mills, I have something for you."
I stopped, dropping my gaze to his hand. He was holding an envelope towards me but instead of reaching for it, I frowned.
"I don't want it."
"Please, Ms. Mills. I'm in a very...difficult position. Please take the letter, otherwise, there's going to be hell to pay. And I'm going to be the one paying it."
My gaze softened at Craig's pained look. I reminded myself once again that it wasn't fair to take my anger out on Craig. I could only imagine how difficult it would be to work for someone as unyielding as Jackson.
Craig looked relieved when I took the letter, watching me shove it inside my purse. "Ms. Mills, I hate to interfere, but I thought you should know that Mr. Reynard...he's not doing well."
I shook my head, not wanting to hear more. "I'm sorry, Craig. I'm sorry that you have to follow me around when I'm sure there's more important things you could be doing. I don't know why Jackson is insisting that you still trail behind me, but I don't care at this point. And I certainly don't want to hear anything about him." My heart screamed that I was a liar, that I was desperate for any information about Jackson. But I ignored it. My self-preservation kicked in and I knew I had to eradicate Jackson from my heart and mind again, no matter how hard it was going to be. It was the only way I was going to survive. Unfortunately, I was experienced in this matter.
Craig still followed behind me in his SUV, trailing behind my cab. The letter was burning a hole in my purse, but I refused to look at it all day, trying to concentrate on my work. Now that the press seemed to have lost their interest in me, the calls from the media had stopped except for an odd inquiry here and there. It was a relief that they were no longer waiting outside my apartment building, and it was a small comfort that no one seemed to be interested in my relationship with Jackson anymore. Oh, there were gleams of interest in people's eyes, but the rabid fascination was gone.
I was determinedly working through lunch when Marie buzzed me from her desk.
"Yes, Marie?"
"Drew is here to see you."
I had made it a habit to keep my door closed lately, not wanting people to drop by unexpectedly. Celeste had been relentless in trying to figure out why I was so glum, but she had eventually gotten the message when I consistently told her I was fine and refused to take the conversation any further. Drew had made a few attempts at asking me to lunch, but I had excused myself with the explanation that I had too much work. Marie had been given strict instructions not to let anyone in my office without my explicit permission. It was far different from the open door policy I used to have.
I sighed at Marie's announcement, not wanting to see Drew but feeling that it was too rude to have Marie make another excuse for me.
"Send him in, please."
I watched Drew cautiously enter my office, his eyes zeroing in on mine as he sat down in the chair across my desk. He propped an ankle on the opposite leg, studying me before he spoke.
"You look like hell."
I couldn't suppress a small smile at his pronouncement. "Gee, thanks."
Drew didn't return the smile, looking concerned. "Seriously, Emma. What's going on? Celeste is beside herself because you won't talk to her. You just lock yourself behind your office door except for meetings."
I shrugged. "I'm getting my work done. No one has any reason to complain."
"I'm not discussing your work ethic. I know your work hasn't been suffering." Craig frowned. "I'm concerned about you, not your damn work."
"Drew, I appreciate your concern but I'm fine."
"I don't believe you. When's the last time you had a decent meal? You look like you're wasting away."
My appetite had vanished this past week, and I knew my clothes were starting to hang on me. It had only taken a heart ripped to shreds to lose those few extra pounds that I could never seem to get rid of. But combined with my dark circles and hollowed cheeks, I knew I looked sick instead of svelte.
"Actually, I was just about to go to lunch. So if you'll excuse me..." I trailed off when Drew jumped up, proffering his arm.
"Perfect timing. I was going to ask you to lunch."
"Drew," I said warningly. I wasn't in the mood for company and I didn't appreciate Drew trying to manipulate me into lunch.
"Emma, please. Let me be your friend. You don't have to discuss anything you don't want to. It'll just give me some peace of mind to watch you eat an actual meal."
I sighed, but I was touched by Drew's concern. I took his arm, telling myself that it was time to start living my life instead of being holed up in my office and apartment, not wanting to face the world.
We went to a cafe around the corner, and Drew stayed true to his promise about not pushing me to talk about what was bothering me. I was grateful that he kept the conversation light, making me laugh with stories about Celeste's latest attempts to infiltrate his personal life. I was keenly aware of Craig waiting outside the restaurant. He had followed us when we had left our office building and was presently leaning against the SUV, watching us through the window of the cafe. I wondered if he was going to report all the details back to Jackson. The possibility made me laugh a little louder than necessary at Drew's jokes, pretending that I was having the time of my life when, in reality, no funny story could erase the pain I felt. Drew glanced at Craig when he saw my attention straying constantly towards him, but he didn't comment.
After lunch and a promise to Drew that we would go out for drinks sometime soon, I spent the rest of the day engrossed in my work. I had given Drew a false promise, but I made it just the same, willing to agree to anything to keep him off my back.
My mind kept going to the letter in my purse, but I forced myself to not rip it open. I wanted to wait until I was in the privacy of my own apartment to read it, not wanting anyone to witness me breaking down. I had no idea what the letter said, but I had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.
When I finally made it home after work, I kicked off my heels and placed Jackson's letter on the coffee table, sitting on the couch and staring at it. Minutes passed, although it seemed much longer as I contemplated the sealed letter, wondering how much its contents were going to hurt me. When I couldn't take it anymore, I picked up the envelope and ripped it open. Jackson's bold handwriting jumped out at me.
Emma,
To say this past week has been painful would be an understatement. I know that you're upset I contacted Claire, but please don't let it ruin everything we have. I swear to you that nothing happened between us while you and I have been together. I haven't spoken to Claire in years, let alone seen her. I didn't even realize she was in New York until recently. I spoke to Mia the other day, and she told me that Claire had contacted her and informed her that she was back in New York.
I know it was wrong to contact Claire, but like I told you, it was killing me not knowing what she said to you. I wish to God that I had never contacted her. I didn't meet her on Wednesday. I told her that I never wanted to see or speak to her again.
Emma, sweetheart, I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you
on purpose. You have to believe me. I've kept my distance this past week, to give you room to breathe and think. But I'm going crazy being apart. Please meet me tomorrow night at my place after you're done with work. I have a surprise for you. I'll be waiting for you. I love you.
Jackson
Tears rolled down my face onto the letter, making the ink blotchy on the spots where it had dropped. I so badly wanted to believe Jackson, to believe that he truly loved me and he was telling the truth. But I had been played the fool once before. Was I going to give him another chance to deceive me again?
The next day was torture as I wrestled with whether or not to go to Jackson's apartment after work. I wondered what his surprise was. When I left the office that evening, I hesitated when Craig opened the door to the SUV expectantly, waiting for me to climb in. I was longing to see Jackson, but it was warring with the feeling that I was willingly opening myself to more pain and heartbreak. My self-preservation won out, and Craig's face fell when I shook my head and walked past him to hail a cab. He still followed me home but I was too exhausted by my inner turmoil to care.
I was settling into bed, wanting to make it an early night so that I would stop thinking about Jackson waiting for me in his apartment, when my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number so I just let it ring, noticing that the caller didn't leave a voicemail. I jumped when my phone rang again, the same number flashing on my screen. I hesitated, wondering who it could be, but I still didn't answer it. It could easily be a member of the press, wanting to get a comment from me. Even though attention from the media had waned in the past week, there was still lingering interest about my relationship with Jackson. When my phone rang the third time from the same number, I answered it angrily, annoyed that whoever was calling me wasn't getting the message.
