by Cher Carson
She had been afraid to ask him about his sexual escapades while they were dating. It would have destroyed her to know, for certain, that she wasn’t woman enough to keep him happy.
“Baby, let’s not do this,” he said, drawing her into his arms. “I don’t want to talk about the past.”
“We have to because that’s the reason we’ll never have a future together.”
He pulled away, holding her at arm’s length. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do.” She wiped away the tears sliding down her cheeks. “I could never trust you, not after the way you treated me while we were together.”
“I’m not the same man I was then, Jen,” he whispered. “Give me a chance to prove that.”
She shook her head. “No, I can’t.”
He crossed his arms, glaring at her. “You can’t trust me, but you can trust that piece of shit? The same guy who fucks a stripper weeks before he’s supposed to marry you? You really think I would do that to you?”
All of the old hurts were resurfacing, threatening to destroy the invisible armor she wore to defend herself. She thought she let it go when she met Kevin, but she’d allowed Mark to reel her in again, reminding her of how worthless she felt back then. “Do you remember where you were on the night of my thirtieth birthday?”
He frowned, as though trying to recall the date in question. “Uh...”
“Let me remind you. My parents had planned a party for me at Kevin’s restaurant. He and I just met. He was a client. I wasn’t interested in him at the time, but…”
“Obviously that changed,” he said, spitting the words out.
“Yeah, it changed when you chose to go to a strip joint instead of coming to the party. That’s when I realized I was wasting my time with you.”
He shook his head. “Wait a minute, what are you talking about?”
“You promised me you’d be there. You didn’t show up—you didn’t call.” She struggled to get the words out. “I was so hurt and...”
He reached out to touch her, but she stepped back, just out of reach.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you,” he said quietly, raking his hands through his hair.
“Yeah, well, you did.” She remembered every detail of that night. Patrons of the club captured images of Mark and his teammates enjoying lap dances and posted them online. The next day, a friend sent her the link, encouraging her to stop wasting her time with him. She took her advice. After that night, she started dating Kevin.
“That was the night of Steve’s bachelor party...”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.”
“I told him I’d stop by for a drink, but I wanted to spend the night with you.”
She chuckled, trying to pretend she found some humor in it. “I guess you didn’t make it, huh? Those strippers must’ve given quite the lap dances to keep you there all night.”
“How did you know about the strippers?”
“Someone posted it online to a social networking site. A girlfriend sent me the link.”
“Shit,” he muttered. “I had one drink, one…”
“Lap dance?”
“Yeah, okay, yeah.” He sighed. “Look, the other guys arranged it. I wasn’t even into it. I just wanted to show my face and get the hell out of there so I could be with you. But by the time I got to the restaurant, Callie told me you’d already left with some other guy.”
“You were there?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t she have told me?”
“I asked her not to. I told her I wanted to explain. The problem is you never gave me the chance. I guess now I know why, huh?” He walked toward the driver’s side of his truck.
She followed him, settling into the passenger’s seat. “What was I supposed to do when you didn’t show up?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, starting the engine. “Maybe you could have given me a chance to explain why I was late instead of taking off with some other guy.”
“I was angry and hurt.” She sighed. “And I was tired of your bullshit.”
He stared straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “I wouldn’t have missed that night for anything, Jen.”
She looked at him, trying to read his thoughts. “Why? What was so special to you about that night?”
“I planned on asking you to marry me.”
Mark hadn’t planned to tell her about the proposal, but when she started to recap their history, he couldn’t help himself. Whether she realized it or not, he was devastated that night. He stood around making small talk with her friends and family, waiting for her to return so he could ask her to marry him. One hour passed, then two, before Callie finally told him the truth. She’d left with someone else.
He’d gone to her apartment and waited for her, calling, texting… He’d tried everything for weeks to no avail. No woman had ever destroyed him the way she had. And now he was giving her the power to do it again. No more. If she wanted to marry a man who lied to her and cheated on her, let her have him. He was through trying to convince her that he was the man for her when it was painfully obvious that she didn’t share his feelings.
He pulled into the parking lot of her building.
She waved to the guard at the gatehouse, who raised the barrier and waved them through. She had been silent since he told her the truth about what happened that night. Not that he expected her to say anything. Nothing she could say would change it.
He pulled up to the front door, setting the truck in park before he turned to face her. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the words. “Good luck, Jen. I hope everything works out the way you want it to.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. She took his jacket off and handed it back to him. “I guess this is good-bye then?”
He wasn’t an emotional guy by nature, but the thought of never seeing her again tore him up inside. “I guess so.” He cleared his throat, striving to find his voice. “I hope you have a beautiful wedding.” That was a lie, but he couldn’t tell her the truth, not now. She would find out in due time that the man she was marrying was a parasite. Only he couldn’t be there to pick up the pieces and help her move on. He had to focus on fixing what was broken in his own life.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. She reached for the door handle, but he reached across to grab her wrist.
“Wait.” He moved to kiss her, needing to taste her lips one more time. “I love you, baby. Whether you believe that or not, I do.”
She pressed her lips to his once more before pulling back. “I’m glad we had this time together, Mark. It’s helped me to sort things out.”
He watched her walk into the building. With each step she took, widening the gap between them, the hole in his chest expanded until he couldn’t breathe.
He dropped his head on the steering wheel, pleading for a reprieve from this torture.
CHAPTER NINE
Jen sat with her legs tucked under her, clipboard in hand as Callie scrolled the channel guide. They were supposed to be working on the seating plan for the wedding, which was only a few days away, but no one, herself included, could muster any enthusiasm for the painstaking task.
“Hey, I forgot there was a game on tonight,” Trace said, popping a kernel of popcorn in her mouth. “Leave it there.”
Callie glanced at Jen. “Do you mind?”
Jen shrugged, trying to pretend the thought of seeing Mark again, even via the small screen, didn’t affect her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t fooling anyone. “Suit yourself.”
“Maybe we should change it,” Callie said, making a face at Tracey.
Tracey rolled her eyes. “Oh please, she’s gonna have to get used to seeing him.”
Her friends were devoted hockey fans, and Jen knew that wasn’t going to change, no matter how much she might wish it would.
Callie reached over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl Tracey held. “At least they’re winning.”
&
nbsp; “Yeah, but let’s see if they can hold on to that lead in the third. They’re notorious for out-playing and out-shooting their opponent in the first two periods, then they manage to blow it in the third,” Tracey said as her phone buzzed, indicating she had a message. She scrolled her phone to check the message, wrinkling her nose. “Uh, it’s from that guy I went out with last week, the chiropractor. He wants know if I’ll have dinner with him tomorrow night.”
“Are you gonna go?” Callie asked.
Tracey shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll see if I get a better offer.”
Callie laughed and Jenna smiled, shaking her head at her friend’s outlook on relationships. Men blew in and out of Tracey’s life like the wind, and she seemed to prefer it that way. If only Jenna could manage that kind of indifference where Mark was concerned.
Callie pointed at the screen. “Hey, there’s Mark.”
Jen watched him skate onto the ice, his head down, absorbed in the play. He certainly seemed more focused than she had been since the last time they talked. She couldn’t concentrate on anything without him intruding on her thoughts.
Tracey pointed to the box still sitting on the end table. “What’re you going to do with that gift he sent you?” she asked. “You haven’t opened it, and you haven’t sent it back.”
“I’m going to return it. I just haven’t gotten around to it,” she said. Truthfully, it was her last link to him and she was reluctant to sever it. Returning his final gift would tell him she wasn’t having any reservations about her decision, and she was. In fact, her doubts were becoming harder to ignore with every day that passed.
“Aren’t you curious?” Tracey asked, picking up the small box.
Jen set the clipboard on the couch beside her and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Sure, I’m curious.”
“Then let’s open it,” Callie said, reaching for a pair of scissors on the table. “What can it hurt?”
Jen glanced at the TV screen. What could it hurt? She’d already learned to live with the dull ache in her heart; nothing he could do or say at this point could make it any worse, could it? “Okay, open it.”
Callie reached out to take the box from Tracey. “You’re sure, right?” she said, the scissors poised over the box.
She caught a glimpse of Mark, seated on the bench, his head down. “I’m sure.”
“Okay,” Callie said, taking a deep breath. “Just remember, you asked for it.”
Jen watched her open the box carefully before withdrawing a black velvet jewelry box nestled amongst the packing material.
The three women looked at each other before Callie held up a note. “Do you want to read it, or shall I?”
“You read it,” she said quietly. She didn’t think she could bring herself to read Mark’s words, not now, when she still felt so raw.
Callie cleared her throat and slipped the linen card out of the envelope.
Jen closed her eyes and heard Mark’s voice reciting the carefully chosen words.
“There are so many things I wish I’d done differently when we were together. I should have told you how I felt about you when I had the chance. You need to know that I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do. I love you. I know I’m two years too late, but I wanted you to know how I felt. This is the ring I’d intended to give you on your thirtieth birthday. Please keep it as a reminder of how close we came to having it all. Love, Mark.”
By the time Callie finished reading his words, her eyes were moist with un-shed tears and she was sniffling. “I should have told you,” she said, handing Jen the box and note. “I should have told you he was at the party, that he intended to propose to you that night.”
Jen stared at her friend incredulously. “Wait a minute. You knew he intended to propose, and you didn’t tell me? You let me get involved with Kevin knowing it was Mark I wanted?”
Callie sighed. “I was confused; I didn’t know what to do. I knew Mark had a few drinks that night, honey. I thought he was just blowing smoke. You kept telling us he was a player, he couldn’t be trusted. Then Kevin came along and, for a while, he seemed like one of the good guys. I thought he was someone you could count on. So I kept my mouth shut. I did it because I love you. I wanted you to be happy. Don’t hate me,” she said, sobbing.
Jen claimed the seat beside her friend on the couch, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “I could never hate you. I know you were just trying to do what you thought was best for me. It was my fault…”
Tracey sighed. “So, what’re you going to do now?”
Jen picked up the box and opened it to reveal a huge pear-shaped diamond solitaire nestled in a black velvet cushion. She pressed her fingertips to her trembling lips. “I wish I knew.”
The announcer’s animated voice suddenly filled the room and all three women turned to the screen.
“This rivalry goes way back. They’ve gone toe-to-toe many times, but they’re so evenly matched, in terms of strength and stamina, that it’s always a hard one to call.”
Both Mark and his opponent threw down their gloves, circling each other, as they shouted, trying to coerce the other into throwing the first punch to instigate the fight.
Players and refs kept their distance, waiting for the two big men to finish the battle they’d started.
“Oh God,” Jenna said, sinking to the floor, the velvet box clutched in her hand. “I hate this.” She knew Mark was big and strong, a skilled fighter who usually came out on top, but rarely without his fair share of battle scars.
His opponent threw the first punch, but Mark managed the second and third. Both men worked to try and get the other’s helmet off so they could land more devastating blows. Mark’s helmet was the first to come off, ricocheting off the ice. He lost his footing with one solid blow to the head and fell backward, his head smacking the ice hard.
“Ohhhh nooooo,” the announcer said.
There was a long moment of silence as everyone waited for Mark to get up.
He didn’t move. The camera zeroed in his face, but his eyelids didn’t even flutter. He was out cold.
Pandemonium ensued as medics rushed to his aid.
Jenna heard words filtering into her consciousness as she tried to make sense of what just happened.
She heard the announcer’s voice, “Freak accident…what are the odds… concussion…they’re bracing his neck… here comes the stretcher…”
Callie reached for her hand, squeezing it. “He’s gonna be okay, honey.”
“What if he’s not?” she whispered. She knew there had been dozens of hockey injuries in recent years where the wounded player never made a complete recovery. What if Mark was one of the unlucky few?
“They’re taking him to the hospital,” the announcer said. “We’ll keep you apprised of his condition.”
“I need to go there,” Jenna said, standing. “I have to see him.”
“I’ll drive you,” Callie said, grabbing her coat and purse.
“You guys go,” Tracey said. “I’ll lock up. Call me as soon as you hear anything, okay?”
Jenna nodded her head numbly. “We will.” She looked her friend in the eye. “He has to be okay, Trace. He just has to.”
By the time they arrived at the hospital, Mark’s friends and family were already gathered in the lounge, awaiting news about his condition.
Jenna felt like an outsider, as though she hadn’t earned the right to be there alongside the people who loved him. “Maybe we should just go,” she said to Callie, turning her back on the small crowd of familiar faces. She had met everyone at his father’s sixty-fifth birthday party, but they were still strangers to her.
Callie took her hands and looked her in the eye. “Mark would want you to be here, Jen. Don’t make the mistake of letting him down again.”
Guilt tore through her. She’d not only let him down, she’d failed herself. Instead of being honest about what she wanted, she took the coward’s way out, and now it
may too late for her to make things right.
“Have you eaten anything today?” Callie asked.
She couldn’t even think about putting anything in her stomach. “No, I don’t want…”
Callie shook her head firmly. “You have to keep your strength up, Jen.” She led her to a chair on the periphery of the spacious room. “Just sit tight. I’m going to get you something from the cafeteria, okay?”
She nodded her head, not because she wanted the food, but because she did want a little peace and quiet so she could collect her thoughts.
Callie walked toward the bank of elevators as Mark’s two sisters turned around and spotted her. They whispered to each other before his older sister, Allison, raised her hand in greeting.
Jenna forced a small smile, waving back.
Allison made her way across the room and claimed the chair beside her. “I’m surprised to see you here, Jenna.”
She clasped her hands in her lap, preparing herself to face his sister’s wrath. “My friends and I were watching the game on TV. I saw what happened to Mark, and I was concerned. I needed to...” See him, touch him, tell him I love him.
“The doctors are evaluating him now.” Allison tipped her head to the side, regarding Jenna curiously. “Why are you really here?”
She cleared her throat, trying to mask her discomfort. “I, uh, we’re friends. Like I said, I was concerned.”
Allison crossed her legs, folding her hands over her knees. “Just friends, huh?” Her eyes drifted to Jen’s engagement ring. “He told me everything, Jenna.”
Jen turned to face Allison, the color rising in her cheeks. “He told you everything?”
Allison smiled. “Okay, maybe not everything, but he told me enough. I know how he feels about you.”
Jenna reached for a tissue on a nearby table, fisting it in her hand. “I screwed up, Allison.”
She smiled, patting Jenna’s thigh. “So, what are you going to do to fix it?”
Jenna bit her lip, trying to swallow her pride. “Do you think he would give me another chance?”
