26. Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Five
"Why do you look mad every single time you come home from the gym?" Blaise gapes at me as I slam the front door open and stalk past the entryway.
"Don't ask!" I yell, having another deja vu moment.
I head for the bathroom, slamming that door too as I take myself for a shower. I need to remove all traces of Kaden from my skin.
I hate myself so much. It was a stupid irrational decision, one that I instantly regret.
I've never been much of a petty person, but I lost control. I was so hurt after seeing that picture of Jordan and Jasmine, and when Kaden had me cornered like a frightened little animal, I lashed out.
Once again, I let myself be fooled by him, giving him my body when he doesn't deserve it.
But it felt so good.
I wish I could deny it, but it was a better release than running on the treadmill. The sadness is gone, leaving just the burning fire inside. Blaise was right — I'm going up in flames, sparking an inferno.
After my shower, I wrap the towel around my body and exit the bathroom. I jump, Blaise startling me as he stands next to his bedroom door, an eyebrow raised at my frame.
"What?" I gawk at him, pulling the towel tighter.
His eyes narrow, scanning my face before moving down to my neck.
"What is that?" he questions sternly.
My hand shoots up to my neck, covering it. I didn't even check myself in the mirror, but I don't need to check to know there's a mark there.
"Nothing."
Blaise looks at me suspiciously. "Is that a hickey?"
"No."
"It's a fucking hickey," he points out. "You went to the gym?"
There's a mixture of confusion, concern and a little bit of frustration on his face. I don't blame him though — I feel the same way.
"I did go to the gym," I confirm softly. "I ran on the treadmill."
Blaise stares at me for a few seconds, until his face drops. He's a smart man, and it doesn't take him long to put together the pieces.
"I swear to God, Skylar, if you tell me you had sex with Kaden I'll lose my mind."
I quickly try to think of a lie, but nothing comes. So, I try to deflect the conversation. "Why would you think it was Kaden?" I ask incredulously, like it's the stupidest idea ever.
Blaise crosses his arms. "Because you're mad. No — you're absolutely raging like a maniac. If you had had sex with anyone else, you probably would have walked through that door crying because they weren't Jordan. The only possible person it could be to make you this mad would be either Jordan or Kaden. And since Jordan is with that new girl, I can only deduce that it wasn't him."
There's no words.
I'm caught out. I know it, he knows it. And there's nothing else in my brain that I could say to defuse this exploding bomb.
"It was, wasn't it?" Blaise asks angrily.
I don't know why he's so mad — probably because of my stupidity.
Reluctantly, I nod. He throws up his arms in frustration, letting out a stream of curse words.
"What were you thinking? Fuck that guy. No — not literally. Skylar, seriously?"
"I was mad!" I shoot back. "He cornered me in the bathroom and wouldn't let me leave. I just got so frustrated that one thing turned into another."
Blaise blinks at me, running a hand over his face. "Skylar…"
"I hate myself," I confess to him. "I just wanted to hurt him. And I wanted to hurt Jordan. I lost myself."
He doesn't respond and I look down, guilt starting to wash over me as I stand in my towel awkwardly.
"Am I a bad person?" I ask quietly.
Blaise sighs. "No. You're not a bad person. I can understand why you felt that way. But Jesus — this is not good. Nothing good can come from this, you know that, right?"
I nod. "I don't want anything to do with him."
"Even if you want to make them hurt, it's just going to hurt you in the end too."
I look away, feeling ashamed of myself. "I know."
"I'm sorry for being upset," Blaise says, lowering his tone. "I just don't want to see you get any more hurt because of these assholes. They don't deserve you."
I shift awkwardly, still clinging to my towel. "I'd offer you a hug but I'm in a towel," I murmur sheepishly.
Blaise gives me a small smile, relaxing finally. "I'm getting the tequila. You're welcome to have a shot after you get dressed, but I definitely need one."
I took Blaise up on his offer, indulging in three straight shots. If I wasn't tipsy, I'd probably be concerned about my reckless behavior, but I think I'm just so desperate for distraction and the opportunity to feel numb.
Maybe this is the start of my mental breakdown. I didn't have one after Jake despite what he did, so maybe this is my sanity finally exiting the building.
Blaise and I curl up on the couch, my feet dangling over his lap as we watch a movie and eat pizza. I have to force myself to eat, reminding myself that starving my body will not hurt Jordan in any way. There's just a constant sick feeling in my body, making me want to spew my guts up. I'm struggling to eat and sleep, even with the newly found exercise routine.
My body aches from running on the treadmill and I'm thankful for the physical pain. Who knew that physical pain could be easier to manage than emotional heartbreak?
Blaise rubs his hand along my shin, eyes glued to the television screen. I don't think he even realizes he's doing it. It's like he's programmed his body to comfort me.
I stare at the side of his face, smiling softly. If I didn't have him, I'd have nobody right now. Even with all my flaws, he still puts up with me.
I should get out more — socialize and make new friends to share the burden of Skylar Ivy Nixon. I'm so awkward though I have no idea how to meet new people.
"Stop staring at me," Blaise teases without looking over. "I can feel you burning holes into my face."
"Sorry," I laugh. "I'm a bit tipsy."
His lips twitch into a smile. "You're missing the best parts," he muses, nodding towards the screen.
I glance over, watching Uma Thurman slaughter her enemies. When Blaise had suggested Kill Bill, I cringed, not a fan of blood and gore. But as the movie progressed, I realized he wanted me to see it. Not for the gory violence, but the revenge.
Apparently I do revenge wrong.
I shouldn't be fucking men in gym bathrooms. I should be slicing their hearts out with swords.
Not sure I've grasped the message correctly…
"She's such a babe," I murmur, watching as Uma swings her weapon, slicing off the top of someone's head.
Blaise nods. "She's gorgeous. Have you watched any other Quentin Tarantino movies?"
"No," I admit. "I'm usually a sappy rom-com girlie."
He snaps his gaze away from the screen, staring at me in disbelief.
"Natural Born Killers? Pulp Fiction?"
I shake my head and he scoffs in playful disgust.
"We have a lot to teach you," he groans. "And when we're done with those movies, I'm showing you James Bond."
My eyes widen proudly. "I've seen Casino Royale. My dad took me to the movie theater to see it."
Blaise narrows his eyes. "You need to experience Sean Connery and Pierce Brosnan at the very least."
"We're going to be set on movies for the remainder of the year," I laugh.
He grins suddenly, shifting quickly. "Oh, little one. I'm going to train you so well."
I kick his hand gently with my foot, laughing when he swiftly presses his hand down on my shin, holding my leg still.
"I could teach you a thing or two," I retort.
Blaise lets out a hearty sarcastic laugh. "And what's that? What not to do?"
I roll my eyes. "You're never going to let me live it down, are you?"
He shakes his head, turning his attention back to the screen.
"Absolutely not. Consider this your punishment."
I decide the next morning that I'm going to skip the gym today, too mortified that someone will know what I did. Worst still, I can't face running into Kaden.
I love my sleep — when I usually can sleep — but maybe I should change to early morning workouts. I always look at people running along the road before breakfast time and think they must suffer from some type of insanity. Now I can't help but question and wonder what they are really running from.
I guess all of us are running from things — work, family dramas, broken hearts. A required skill of life is cardio but not the good kind. It all comes down to how fast we can run before it catches up to us.
Blaise has to pop out for some meetings — new clients and existing — so I'm left home alone to work.
When lunchtime rolls around, I'm stuck contending with the eerie silence in the house. Loneliness creeps back through my soul, so I decide to go for a walk to clear my head.
Putting my headphones on, I stroll around the neighborhood, ignoring everyone else's lovely gardens.
I really need to pester the landlord again.
It sickens me to find that going for a walk doesn't have the same effect as the gym, my mind having too many opportunities to run wild because I'm not fighting for air. All my thoughts start and end with the same thing.
Jordan.
I replay conversations, wondering if things could have been different. I remember what he said to me at his house that night my world fell apart.
'Friends' he had suggested.
It's a preposterous idea, just like I had said to him. You can't go back from where you have come from. Once the wounds have closed, the scars still remain, and despite our best interests, the psychological pain will also hide behind the marks.
'But you could try…'
I shake my head, having an internal brain with myself. I know we can't. Can we?
No.
Definitely not. I can't bring myself to see him with Jasmine — even though I want him to be happy.
'But you're an adult. You can be mature about this. People stay friends after relationships all the time. It will get easier. You'll fall out of love with him.'
It's a whirlwind battle, my subconscious trying to convince the rational part of my brain that perhaps I could have it all.
Falling out of love with him is probably the greatest lie I can tell myself. And I want to believe it so bad.
Even though I hurt and hate him for what he did, I still miss him as a person. We had a connection like no other, and I genuinely miss him in my life.
I miss our conversations and friendly banter, our ability to talk for hours on end.
Most of all, I miss just hearing about his day — the boring work meetings, the insubordinate staff, what he ate for lunch.
I miss him. And it hurts so much.