Pushing the Boundaries (Picking up the Pieces #3)

by Jessica Prince

  Merle and Mr. Bojangles sat together and watched me wear a path in the carpet. It was as if they could sense that something wasn’t right.

  The moment Trevor’s keys jingled, Merle’s ears perked up and he ran on his uncoordinated puppy feet toward the front door, plowing into Trevor’s legs as he pulled the door open. Trevor didn’t stop to look in my direction as he climbed the stairs toward the bedroom, and the sight of the cardboard boxes in his hands sent a bolt of panic straight through me.

  By the time I unfroze myself from my spot and got to the bedroom, two boxes were filled with miscellaneous items and a duffle bag was thrown on top of the bed.

  “Trevor,” I started, my voice breaking. “Can you stop and talk to me?”

  He didn’t pause in his steps to and from the closet as he pulled clothes from hangers and shoved them into the bag.

  “What’s there to talk about, Lizzy? You clearly said everything you needed to say back at the shop.”

  “Trev—”

  “There’s nothing left to say.” He continued back and forth from the closet to his bag.

  “Just stop!” I demanded, grabbing the clothes from his arms and throwing them to the side. “Talk to me, damn it!”

  The blank expression was still on his face as he studied me as if I were a stranger. “If I remember correctly, I tried to talk to you. But you just wouldn’t fucking listen to me, would you?”

  “I’m listening now. Please, just tell me what’s going on. I had some woman come into my salon today and tell me all of these awful…” I had to swallow back the tears that formed in my throat. “What she was saying drove me out of my mind. You have to understand that. She kept going on and on about how y’all were engaged and how you were moving back home with her. I just thought—”

  “That’s the thing, Liz,” he interrupted. “You didn’t think!” Finally, the emptiness in his eyes was gone, but it was replaced with something so much worse: anger, disappointment…heartbreak. “Once again, your trust in me was put to the test, and you chose to believe someone else. Not me. You wouldn’t even let me tell you the truth.”

  He jerked one of the drawers open and started grabbing handfuls of socks and t-shirts.

  “I’m listening now!” I pleaded desperately.

  His laugh was downright sinister. “You want the truth?”

  “Yes! Please.” Tears broke free at what I saw in his eyes. He was shattered. Where I felt broken by what Marissa had told me, he was so much worse off than I was.

  “The truth is that Marissa was my fiancé. Years ago. We dated in high school and after graduation, she told me she was pregnant. I was stupid enough to think I loved her and that she loved me. I was so fucking excited that she was having my baby I didn’t even think twice when I proposed.”

  My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.

  “All my life, my father had pressured me to do exactly what he wanted me to do. Graduate high school, go to college, then come work for him. I never wanted that. Marissa knew I had no intentions of ever going to work for my father, but she started pushing. Telling me I needed to do it so I could take care of her and the baby. So I did what I thought I needed to do to take care of my family.”

  “You enlisted,” I whispered, knowing that had to be what he was talking about. Trevor was the kind of man who would do anything for those he loved. And if he thought joining the Marines was the best way to take care of his wife and child, he wouldn’t have thought twice about doing it.

  “Yep.” He let out another laugh, but it held no humor; it was full of pain. “Marissa was beyond pissed when I told her, but like a goddamned idiot, I thought she’d come around. That she’d see that I was trying to do the best thing for us. Imagine my surprise when I went to see her right before leaving for basic and found my fiancé screwing my dear old dad.”

  “Oh, God,” I gasped. How could she? How could he? His own father. I was disgusted and grief-stricken for Trevor.

  “The cold-hearted bitch wasn’t even pregnant,” he hissed out between clenched teeth. “She and my dad had tried to play me from the beginning, suck me in so I was trapped, so that my life played out just like he’d always planned.”

  “Trevor, I’m s-so sorry,” I cried. “I can’t imagine what that must have felt like.” He remained silent, just stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the ground. “Why is she here?” I finally found the courage to ask. “Why track me down just to spread awful lies?”

  “My guess, she was pissed off when I told her I wouldn’t help her and my father.”

  “Help them with what?”

  “His company’s going under. Apparently, the two of them have been going at it like rabbits since I left.” I felt bile rising up in my throat. It was just so despicable. “Marissa came here to manipulate me into getting back together, and when that didn’t work she finally admitted that they wanted me to invest in his company, be a silent partner. They basically want my money so he can pull his ass out of the fire. When I told her no, she got pissed. I guess that’s when she went after you.”

  “Oh, no,” I cried, dropping my face into my hands as a sob broke free. I was such an idiot.

  It took several minutes to get my tears under control, and when I looked up, Trevor was zipping up the full duffle bag.

  “W-where are you going?”

  “I’m staying at Brett’s until I can find a place of my own.” His voice was still so hollow. I hated it.

  I couldn’t let him walk away. I had to fix this. He slung the bag over his shoulder and headed for the bedroom door. In a fit of panic, I jumped from the bed and latched onto his arm. “Please, Trevor. Don’t leave,” I begged. “I’m so sorry I wouldn’t listen to you. I know I’m an idiot, but I’m so, so sorry. Please, just don’t go. We can work this out.”

  My words broke as I cried. I batted the tears away so I could see his face clearly. Those beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed and glistening. Seeing him so devastated was a direct punch to the gut. I felt like I didn’t have enough air in my lungs.

  “I can’t, Lizzy.” Now it was his voice that cracked. “I love you, cher. But I can’t do this. All my life I’ve felt like I wasn’t good enough, that no matter what I did, I’d never amount to anything. With everyone else, it didn’t matter for shit. But when you stormed in and told me you wanted a divorce without even hearing me out…that killed me, baby.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I bawled, clinging to his t-shirt like it was a lifeline.

  “You don’t trust me,” he said softly. “When it came down to it, you didn’t believe in me or what we had together.”

  “That’s not true!” I burrowed deeper into his chest, inhaling his scent.

  “It is,” he replied adamantly. “I thought I could fight hard enough for both of us, that you’d eventually see I was made for you. But you’ll always think of me as that guy who fucks around and can’t commit. I’ll always be beneath you.”

  “No. No! Trevor, please.”

  I felt his lips on the top of my head as he whispered, “I’ll send someone else to get the boxes. I love you, cher. You have no idea how much.”

  And with that, he pulled away and walked down the stairs. At the front door, he grabbed Merle’s leash from the hook and clipped it onto his collar. Then the both of them were gone.

  I don’t know how long Mr. Bojangles and I stood there, staring at the door and waiting for them to return, but when my feet wouldn’t hold me up anymore, I finally relented and went back to my room, collapsing into bed and crying myself into a fitful sleep.

  It was all my fault.

  “What are we going to do if she doesn’t answer?” Kenzie asked as she wrung her hands in front of her. Nearly a week had gone by since Lizzy and Trevor’s epic breakup and she’d called out of work every day since. She’d finally had enough worrying over not being able to get a hold of Lizzy and had called for reinforcements.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Savannah said, taking a look over her shoulder
at everyone. Lizzy’s friend and co-worker. Kenzie, had placed a call to her earlier, worried sick about their friend, so in true Savannah fashion, she’d called up Emmy, Stacia, and Mickey to come assist in an intervention.

  “We’ve got keys.” Savannah held up the key ring in her hand and jingled it.

  “How do you have a key to her place?” Kenzie asked.

  “You’ll get it now that you’re a part of the inner circle,” Emmy responded with a wink. “We love to hand our keys out then bitch and moan about everyone and their dog having access to our houses. It’s kind of our thing. Welcome to our wacky world.”

  Kenzie couldn’t imagine ever handing over something that personal so willingly. But then again, she’d never had a group of friends who’d go to the mat for her in a heartbeat. Her entire adult life had consisted of taking care of her twins and her boyfriend Lance. He’d done a stellar job at making sure she never had time to cultivate any friendships. The bonds she’d witnessed since moving to Cloverleaf were completely foreign to her. But something deep inside warmed considerably at being so easily accepted by these people.

  “Oh, shit, that’s not good,” Savannah muttered as she pushed the door open. The last line of 50 Seconds of Summer’s “Amnesia” faded away before the opening chords started again. Oh, damn, Lizzy had the song on repeat.

  “Uh, hey, honey. How you doing?” Stacia asked as she stepped into the living room with the rest of the girls behind her.

  Lizzy sat in a dirty blue recliner with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s—ironically enough—Chubby Hubby resting between her folded legs. Swollen and red-eyed, she blew her nose into a napkin before shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

  “I wish that I could wake up with amnesia,” she sang through a full mouth before breaking down in a sob.

  “For the love of…How the hell do you turn this damn thing off?” Emmy looked for the power button on the stereo before finally giving up and ripping the iPod from the dock so the song would stop.

  “Hey! I was listening to that,” Lizzy said through sniffles.

  Emmy looked at her with pity. “Honey, you’ve got to get out of this house. This is not a good look for you.”

  The girls ran their gaze over Lizzy’s appearance, each one cringing at what they saw. Her curly, red hair was matted and tangled from lack of washing and pulled up into a knot at the top of her head that looked like it could possibly have birds nesting in it. Her face was covered in splotches from crying for days on end. And a mysterious smudge of something—hopefully food—streaked across her chin. To put it plainly, she was an absolute catastrophe.

  Mickey’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “Oh, God. What’s that smell?” she asked before pulling the neck of her shirt over her nose.

  Kenzie bent down closer to Lizzy and sniffed. “I think it’s her.”

  Lizzy batted Stacia’s hand away with a scowl when she pinched a corner of her t-shirt and pulled it up.

  “What’s all over your shirt?” she asked, leaning in for closer inspection.

  Lizzy lifted the shirt slightly and licked the spot in question.

  “Oh, that’s just gross!” Emmy dry-heaved.

  “Pizza sauce,” she told the girls with a casual shrug as she went back to devouring her ice cream.

  The most pathetic, sorrowful meow any of them had ever heard drew their attention to the living room window. On the ground below the window, in what looked to be a doggy bed, Lizzy’s cat, Mr. Bojangles laid on his side looking just as depressed as his owner.

  “Is that a dog bed?” Savannah asked, pointing toward the cat.

  “It’s Merle’s. Trevor left it here when he moved. Poor Mr. Bojangles misses his puppy friend.” Another round of gut-wrenching sobs tore free from Lizzy.

  “Okay, tough-love time,” Savannah declared, crouching down so she was eye level with Lizzy. “If you don’t get your ass out of this disgusting chair and into a shower in the next five minutes, I’m going to drag you there myself.”

  “This was Trevor’s chair,” she sniffled, giving the worn arm a loving stroke. “He forgot it here when he l-left me.”

  And cue hysterical waterworks round three.

  “That chair needs to be incinerated, Liz! Why are you sitting in it? God only knows what you’ve contracted.”

  “It’s all I have left of him, Savannah!” Lizzy shouted. “Well, that and this shirt.” She picked at the food-covered shirt she had no doubt been wearing for the past several days. “This was his favorite shirt,” she said as she gazed down at the tee that stated “Merle is my Homeboy” across the chest.

  Savannah propped her hands on her hips and stared down at her friend. “You smell like you died a month ago and your insides are decaying. Shower. Now. You’ll have to bathe at least three times to get all the funk off.”

  “Well, excuse me for being a little depressed.”

  “This isn’t a little,” Emmy replied softly. “Honey, this is, like, DEFCON 2, here. It’s pretty fucking bad.”

  Lizzy reached for something tucked in the chair next to her and slapped them down on the coffee table. “Well, you get served divorce papers and tell me if you don’t become a little melodramatic.”

  Sure enough, there were the divorce papers along with a silver ring that couldn’t be anything other than a man’s wedding band.

  “He didn’t even take the ring,” Lizzy said in a broken voice. “He left it on the table by the door when he walked out. I didn’t find it until this morning.”

  Shit.

  The room was deathly quiet, no one knowing what to say to make their friend feel any better.

  Kenzie pushed the stuff aside and sat on the table in front of Lizzy. “Sweetie, maybe if you’d try calling him—”

  “I have. I’ve called and texted to the point where I’m starting to feel like a goddamned stalker! He won’t answer or respond back.”

  “Maybe he just needs time, babe,” Emmy offered.

  “He doesn’t need time.” Lizzy stood from the recliner and paced, giving her friends a peek at the equally-stained sweats that hung from her hips. “He made his decision. He’s done. I fucked this up beyond repair. There’s nothing I can do to fix it; he won’t even talk to me. If I could just get him to talk to me…” Collapsing onto the couch, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. A wave of sorrow at the idea that Trevor may never speak to her again caused a lump to form in her throat so large she couldn’t speak past it.

  Yes, her heart had been broken, but she’d done it to herself. It was the look on Trevor’s face as he walked away from Lizzy that had her crying so much over the past few days, but now she was being hit with not only that, but also the thought that he might not ever be a part of her life again. That thought was enough to steal the breath from her lungs. She couldn’t imagine her life without Trevor in it. He had given her everything so willingly. All he asked for in return was the same, and she’d failed.

  Trevor felt like she thought he wasn’t good enough for her. The truth was, she didn’t even come close to deserving him.

  “I have to get him back,” she whispered. “I can’t…I…” She swallowed past that painful lump, determined to earn back what she’d lost. “I fucked up, I know that. But I want him back. How do I do that?” she asked her friends, desperate for their help. “What do I do?”

  The girls remained quiet, each of them seeming deep in thought before Emmy finally spoke. “I think I have an idea, but it’s going to take some serious dedication on your part. You sure you’re up for that?”

  “Yes!” Lizzy exclaimed. “Anything. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

  “I’m 99 percent sure that this is going to work.”

  “99 percent?”

  “Well, more like 97.5, but don’t worry. It’ll be awesome.”

  Lizzy’s face went blank as she replied dryly, “Not really getting the warm and fuzzies over your plan here, Em.”

  “Eh.” She waved her hand in the air like
it was nothing. “No worries. If it works, you’ll owe me. I’m talking first-born named after me and all that jazz.”

  “What if I have a boy?”

  “Ask me if I give a flying rat’s ass. Boy or girl, its name is Emerson.”

  Lizzy let out a huff. “Fine. And if it doesn’t work?”

  Emmy looked up at the ceiling as if in deep thought. “Let’s just worry about crossing that bridge when or if we get there.”

  “We finished up at Lizzy’s salon today,” Brett said as he popped the cap on two beers and made his way into the living room before handing me one.

  I let out a grunt and sucked down half my beer in two gulps before turning my attention back to the game on TV.

  “So, I take that grunt to mean you’re gonna keep sitting here like a pussy instead of getting off your ass to do something to get your girl back?”

  “Fuck off, dickhead.”

  “Wow, even your insults are pathetic. Should I put on Dirty Dancing and buy you a gallon of ice cream since, clearly, you’ve grown a vagina over the past two weeks.”

  Merle lifted his head and gave Brett a muffled whine before dropping it back into my lap.

  “Damn, dude. Even your friggin’ dog’s depressed. He hasn’t done anything but mope around the house since you started crashing here.”

  I reached down and gave my boy a pat on the head, feeling a little bad that my sour mood had affected the rambunctious little guy.

  “He’s just a little out of sorts from the move. He’ll get straight.” Although I sounded sure of myself, a part of me doubted that either of us would go back to the way we were before. I missed Lizzy every second of every day. Hell, I even missed Mr. Bonjangles’ fat ass. No amount of booze had dulled the pain of the past thirteen nights. And no matter how busy I was at the shop, nothing I did was enough to rid my mind of the girl who’d crushed me like I was nothing. Having to look over at Mick’s pitying gaze each day wasn’t much of a help, either. I knew she desperately wanted to grill me about what happened and talk about my feelings or some such shit, but no way in hell was I down for that right now.