by Jane Charles
Mary leans back. “Hold up. I get you being mad and all, but I don’t get the loss of trust.” Suddenly Mary stands. “I can’t do this on an empty stomach and neither should you.” She heads for the door and is gone before I can say anything.
I should have realized she’d come to Alex’s defense, but I’m still glad I finally told someone. It feels good to let it out.
She doesn’t get the loss of trust? He took something of mine and gave it away. The letters were personal.
But, he didn’t exactly tell my secrets or betray me.
Yet, he did. What was in those letters should have remained private. Between me and Brandy.
That doesn’t mean they’ve been read though. They might never be if Mrs. Cross destroys them.
Oh, this is so fucking confusing. I want to be mad at him, but I’m not. At least, not like I was. But I don’t know what to do. So many times I’ve almost texted him and asked if we could talk, but I chickened out. If he would contact me, it would be different, but he hasn’t, and I’m so afraid he’s done with me.
That makes my heart ache as much as the loss of the letters.
I am the one who asked him to leave, so I should be the one who calls first, right?
But, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?
Oh, these same thoughts have been going on in my head for three days, and I have reached no decisions or conclusions.
I’m afraid.
By asking him to leave and going ballistic, I may have lost Alex.
I don’t want to lose him.
I can lie to myself and insist that I am better off alone because I can’t get hurt again. But, I’m not loved either. And, I can’t give love, and I’m kind of in love with love. Or at least, in love with being in love with Alex.
I’m in love with Alex, and despite what he did, I want him back.
What if it’s too late?
Mary bounds up the stairs carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. I thought she was getting food.
“Dylan is going to make something for us to eat.” She grins.
“You shouldn’t have asked him to cook. We could have gone somewhere.”
“Sweetie, you can’t go anywhere. When’s the last time you took a shower?”
My face heats. “Do I smell that bad?”
Mary laughs as she pours a deep red wine into our glasses. “You don’t stink, but your hair needs washed.”
I really haven’t showered or bathed in a few days. But, it’s not like I’m doing anything. Just laying around, trying to read and not think about Alex. I don’t have the energy to do anything, so how dirty can I be?
Well, there was the whole period thing, but thankfully mine are short and sweet, so once it was done, I was kinda over the whole cleanliness thing. I haven’t even straightened up my apartment. The bed’s not been made in days. I’ve got books stacked everywhere because I was trying to find something to hold my interest, and there are dirty clothes on the floor. I did change my clothes a few times, but that was pretty much it.
“Snap out of it!”
Mary jerks me from my thoughts.
“I told Dylan that you had spilled your guts and I anticipate crying to ensue and that can’t be done without a glass of wine in hand.”
“If I drink this now, I’ll be drunk before I finish.”
Mary grins. “That’s what he said and then pointed out that you hadn’t eaten since last night.” She glances at her phone. “Like twenty hours ago. So, he handed me a bottle of wine, two glasses and turned on the stove.” She leans back and takes a sip of wine. “So, explain this whole trust thing.”
“I shared that box of letters with him. He knew that I intended to give them to Brandy when she was older.”
“You don’t even know if you’d ever get that chance,” she reminds me.
“It was still my choice.”
“True. He should have asked, but he didn’t break your trust.”
“How can you say that?”
“He wasn’t thinking about it like that.”
“Alex wasn’t thinking at all,” I complain.
“That’s because he’s a guy,” she says as if that explains everything.
“So he gets a pass on doing stupid shit because he has a penis?”
Mary shrugs. “Something like that, when it isn’t a big thing.”
“Big thing? This was huge.”
She’s shaking her head. “To you and to him, but for two different reasons.”
My head is spinning. Two sips of wine and already Mary isn’t making any sense.
“Look. The box was huge to you because of what it represents and what you’d hoped for in the future.”
“Yeah.”
“To Alex it was huge because it represented an answer and hope.”
“I don’t get it.”
She takes a deep breath and then blows out a sigh. “He saw how Mrs. Cross treated you. He saw how upset and hurt you were. So, he tried to fix it.”
“Giving my box to her doesn’t fix a damn thing.”
“Guys don’t see things like that. When the woman he loves is upset or hurt, he tries to fix it. It’s in a man’s chemistry.”
“I would have preferred he just stayed with me and let me lean on him.” I take a drink, not just a sip.
“That’s usually the only thing a woman needs, or to vent, or cry, whatever emotional baggage she needs to let go of. But guys don’t get that. To them hugging and listening doesn’t solve anything. Doing does. So, he did, because he wanted to make things right with you, Brandy and Mrs. Cross.”
Her words sink in. “Alex did say that as far as he was concerned they broke the contract when they contacted me and that I should get my daughter back.”
Mary’s eyes widen in shock.
“He was pissed at the way I was treated. He wanted them to understand that all I ever did was love Brandy and tried to do the best I could and that they had a right to know so I could be a part of her life.”
“See! He tried to fix it.”
That is exactly what he tried to do, but I really wasn’t getting it at the time. Alex did what he did for me, without fully understanding that it was the worst possible way to fix the situation because it can’t be fixed.
“That’s how a guy’s mind works,” Dylan says as he comes into my room carrying to plates. “It’s the quickest thing I could think of, and you didn’t really eat breakfast.” He sets down two plates with scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast and half a grapefruit on each.”
“Yum,” Mary says as she picks up her fork. “I could eat breakfast at any meal.”
Well, it is three in the afternoon, so I have to agree with her. “Thanks, Dylan, but you didn’t need to go to all that trouble.” How much had he heard as he was coming up here?
“Give Alex a break,” he finally says. “If you want to.”
“I already have, but he hasn’t called or texted.”
“My guess, he’s waiting on you.”
“But, what if he doesn’t want to hear from me?”
Dylan snorts. “Hell would have to freeze over first. The guy’s already beating himself up for whatever he did. He’s not going to make the first contact.”
Inwardly I blow out a sigh. Dylan didn’t hear everything. “Why?”
“Because he’s in love with you, and if he contacts you and you shoot him down, he’s lost everything. As long as he doesn’t take that step, there is still hope.” With that, Dylan crosses the room and starts making my bed.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Well, somebody’s got to take care of you until he comes back.” And then he scoops up my dirty laundry from the floor, panties and all, and tosses them into the basket in my closet, then carries it out with him.
Mary just sighs. “Why won’t he notice me?”
I don’t have an answer. Mary’s never had trouble getting guys to notice her, but Dylan barely looked at her when he came in. I don’t get that at all.
/> But, that isn’t my problem now. It’s time to fix things with Alex. Guys aren’t the only ones who can do the fixing.
“Hey, dipshit, are you ever going to look at your phone?” Mia asks.
It has been dinging with messages for days. None of the texts have been from Kelsey so I stopped looking. Each time a message popped up and it wasn’t her, there was another little stab to my gut, so I gave up and put the phone on silent. “I’ll get to it later.” We’ve been working for days to get this place ready. Most of the artists who worked here before want to come back. They had looked for other places, but they liked the setup here in that they were basically working for themselves and rented a spot.
Mia has spent the last four nights explaining everything business-related to me. I even figured out the bookkeeping, but I won’t be doing it. The first person I hired was Mia. She’ll come in at night and go over the books, balancing shit out, and all that stuff. I’ll just write the checks that need to be written during the day, before she comes in. Now all I need to find is a receptionist, or two. One for days and one for nights and weekends. Maybe I need three part-timers. At least that’s what Mia suggested, and so I placed an ad in the newspaper and at the college campuses.
The schedules are set, for now. I wrote out all the messages that were left, and the guys came in when they had time and took to scheduling themselves out. I’ll be booked through February, and we aren’t even opened back up yet, but the people who wanted an appointment before Peggy had her stroke still want one. Only a couple went someplace else.
All and all, things are going pretty well. At least I feel that way about Just Ink About It. My personal life is a totally different matter.
I’ve avoided the guys and Kelsey long enough. The plan is to go back home and resume that part of my life in two days, with the first day of a new year. Hopefully, it will be a year with Kelsey. If not, I’ll just have to accept that I’m a fucking dickhead with the brains of a slug and figure out how to get over her.
Like I could get over her.
Before my screw up, I was looking at a long future, possibly a permanent future, with her and me. Not quite at the point of proposing because that would be way too soon, but I didn’t see us ending either.
And then I had to go and screw up.
But, I am not going down without a fight. On January 1st, I’m going to swallow my pride, present myself to her, on my knees if necessary, grovel and plead for forgiveness.
“So, you don’t care that Kelsey sent you a text like four hours ago.” Mia holds the phone up where I can see it.
I blink and stare at the screen on my phone. “Four hours?” I grab it and type in my password so I can read the whole message.
Hey! How’s it going?
That’s all. I was really hoping there was more, but I’ll take what I can get.
Four fucking hours without responding. I hope I didn’t blow the one chance I got by ignoring her.
I don’t know how to respond it’s so generic, like we’re just friends who haven’t talked in a few days.
How are you doing? I ask instead of answering her.
Should I have apologized for not responding right away? I don’t want Kelsey to think I was avoiding her because I would have responded the minute I saw the text if I would have bothered to look.
Sorry. Phone was on silent and didn’t see the text until now.
And I wait. And wait, and wait.
Nothing for an hour.
Kelsey: Was in shower. Just wanted to check in with you.
Alex: Just working on the shop. What about you? Are you okay?
Kelsey: Better.
My pulse picks up. Better that she doesn’t hate me anymore.
Kelsey: Been thinking a lot.
Alex: About us?
Kelsey: Yeah, and what happened.
Am I ready to have this conversation?
Alex: I tried to get the box back from Mrs. Cross.
Kelsey: And…
I might as well tell her how it went. It may piss her off all over again, but she has a right to know.
Alex: She wouldn’t give it to me. Started reading letters and she’s going to decide what to do.
Kelsey: When did you see her?
Alex: The next morning. She did promise not to destroy them.
Kelsey: I wish you would have told me.
Alex: I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.
Kelsey: I would have wanted to hear that. I’ve worried about those letters.
Alex: Sorry. I should have. Guess I fucked up again, but I was trying to fix this.
Kelsey: It’s not your problem to fix.
Alex: Yes it is. I caused it and I hurt you. I want to fix it.
Kelsey: Some things can’t be fixed.
Shit! Was she talking about us, or the situation with Brandy, or all of it?
Kelsey: Mary is here. Don’t want to be rude.
That’s all?
I pissed her off again.
I should have fucking told her what Mrs. Cross said right away, but I was hoping Mrs. Cross would have contacted her and things would be good. Instead, because I didn’t say anything, Kelsey’s been worrying for days when she didn’t need to. I am a total fuck up. She deserves better than me. Far better.
Alex: I would like to talk soon.
Kelsey: Okay. I’ll message you tomorrow. Night.
Alex: Goodnight. Miss you.
I almost typed love you, but I didn’t want to push it. Or push Kelsey further away.
It wasn’t much of a conversation and I still don’t know where I stand, but at least she contacted me. That has to mean something, right?
“Well? Mia asks.
“I’m not sure.”
A lot of my tension left when Alex told me that Mrs. Cross was not going to destroy the letters. Why the hell didn’t he tell me that as soon as he learned?
“Let it go, Kelsey.” Mary says as she comes from my bathroom. She spent the night here because she didn’t want to be around Shelby or Tiffany, especially since Shelby had hooked up with another guy. Well, they haven’t hooked up yet, but she’s letting him wine and dine her until she finds out if he’s a good fuck. Mary was afraid she’d have to deal with them last night since Shelby was on the fence of having the obligatory New Year’s Eve date, and thought she might just fuck him ahead of time so she could cut him loose, leaving herself free for the big party night.
“Are you going to call Alex today?” Mary has pretty much hung out here all day, but she needs to get back to her place, get a nap in and then start her all night shift in the ER.
“I will in a bit. But I’ll text.”
“Just call and talk to him already.”
“Okay!” She’s right. Alex and I need to talk. I need to know if I still have a chance. The fear of being rejected is what keeps me from calling. Our text conversation was pleasant, but I wasn’t getting anything more than friendship from it. Well, not until he said he missed me.
I should have told him the same. No, I should have told him to come home.
“You could still have a date tonight.” She teases me. “Just because I’m going to be covered in puke doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be kissing someone at midnight. And by someone, I mean Alex.”
I’d like to do a hell of a lot more than just kiss Alex at midnight, but I don’t know how to get back to that, other than swallowing my pride and apologize for being a bitch. Not that I really was, but I’d never been that pissed before and that is what bugs me.
She grabs her coat and purse. “You know, I wouldn’t mind kissing a hot cook, myself.” She frowns.
I don’t get Dylan. Last night Mary and I finally went downstairs and watched a movie in the living room and that was only because we’d drank a bottle of wine. We were kind of tipsy, and she wanted to get his attention. Dylan barely talked to her. Instead, he sat at the dining room table, typing away on his laptop.
He must have an article due because if I remember, the guys tol
d me he leaves when he’s working on his novel.
Though, I’m kind of curious. He did close it whenever anyone walked by. Otherwise, he sat there typing. One day I’ll figure out what he was working on and why he can barely talk to or look at Mary.
My phone rings and I take a deep breath. “Talk to him. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I grab my phone as she ducks out, and my heart nearly stops when I see the caller. Why is Mrs. Cross calling me? Had something happened to Brandy? Tentatively I answer. “Hello?”
“Kelsey, this is Jenny Cross.”
“Is everything okay with Bra…Madison?”
“The transfusion has helped, but Dr. Prescott will do a bone marrow transplant in a few weeks.”
“He found a match?” I can’t understand why she’s called me unless she’s upset about the letters.
“Yes!” I can almost hear her smile. “But the donor is on vacation and won’t be back until the middle of January. That’s when they will do the procedure.”
I blow out a sigh. “Thank you for updating me. I’ve been so worried.”
There’s silence on the other end. Did she hang up? Did I say the wrong thing?
“That isn’t the reason I called.”
Shit, she read the letters. Did she destroy them even after she told Alex she wasn’t going to?
“I want to apologize.”
This surprises me. “Apologize?”
“I was wrong to treat you the way I did.”
That’s true, but I didn’t expect this.
“You see…I was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“We were close to losing Madison, and still are because the bone marrow is not a guaranteed cure. We’ll still have to wait and see if it takes.”
“I’m afraid for her too.”
“I feared that we didn’t have to just worry about her life but of you taking her from us too.”
“I would never…”
“I know,” she cuts me off, then sighs. “My husband and I read the letters.”
My heart sinks. Those were for Brandy and nobody else. “Could I have them back please?”
“No.”
I’m going to be sick. Did they destroy them? Why would they want to hold onto them?
