Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
A NNIE
I slide the keycard into the slot on my hotel room door, then use my exhausted body to push my way into the room after the clicking sound tells me it’s unlocked. Dropping my bags, I walk into the bathroom, and turn on the shower to let the water get warm. I need to wash off the grimy sensation I always get when I fly. After I go make sure the deadbolt is locked on the door, I return to the bathroom. I strip out of my clothes and climb into the hot shower.
I aggressively scrub my hair and my body and cry once again as the events of the last few weeks, and particularly the last twenty-four hours, overwhelm me. After rinsing the soap off of me, I don’t have the strength to climb out. Instead, I sit down on the shower floor and pull my knees to my chest, warm water cascading over me. And I sob. I stay like this until the water turns too cold to tolerate, then force myself to stand, turn off the water and get out of the shower.
After toweling myself off and wrapping a towel around my hair, I’m so drained from my meltdown that I can’t even dress. Instead, I pull back the blanket on the bed and climb in, curling myself into a fetal position while I hug the extra pillow.
I didn’t intend to fall asleep, but apparently I did because I’m waking up and it’s already seven p.m., which means I’ve slept for three hours. Unfortunately, there are still a few hours to kill before I can try to go to bed for the night.
I’m so tempted to turn on my phone and check my messages or scroll through my social media accounts, but I stop myself. It isn’t what I need right now. At least I have some self-preservation instincts left, even if I did foolishly set myself up for heartbreak by dating him . I should have stuck to my rule and none of this would have happened.
After a while, I get ready and go down to the hotel bar to have a cocktail and people-watch. That should kill some time and maybe prevent me from spiraling further.
I find a cozy seat at the far corner of the bar that gives me the best view of what’s happening around me and I order a bloody Mary. It’s a Sunday night so there isn’t too much action here to distract me from my wayward thoughts, unfortunately.
Just as I’m nearing the end of my drink and thinking about heading back upstairs, the bartender slides a second bloody Mary in front of me.
“Courtesy of the guy at the high-top table over there,” she indicates with a tilt of her head.
I look over in the direction she points, but can’t bring myself to acknowledge the handsome man in an expensive suit looking my way.
A few minutes later, someone sits next to me and says, “Isn’t a bloody Mary more of a brunch drink?”
I look up and see my benefactor of alcohol next to me. I give him the only smile I can muster and mumble a thank you for the drink.
“I’m Blake,” he says, trying again to open conversation .
“Hi, Blake,” I say, dryly.
“So, what are you doing here in Florida? Work trip? Pleasure?” His voice has a creepy tone to it when he says ‘pleasure.’ Ew.
I turn my full attention to him. Clearly he’s not reading my non-verbals.
“Listen, I’m sure you’re a great guy, and I appreciate the drink, but I literally had my heart broken less than twenty-four hours ago. So, I’m really not about making small talk with strangers in a bar right now. Can you appreciate that?”
Blake stares at me for about thirty seconds before saying, “Well, how about some revenge fucking then, sans conversation? That might make you feel better.”
Jesus, dude. Really?
What the actual hell is wrong with men, I wonder, as I throw down a five for the bartender. I give Blake a disgusted look, then walk away.
Once I’m back in my hotel room, deadbolt secured, of course, in case “Revenge Fucking Blake” tries to follow me back. I decide to make a dent in my “to be read” list on my e-reader. Maybe I’ll find a good paranormal romance where the men are vampires or werewolves—something less terrifying than regular men.
JACK
I pace back and forth across my living room floor, likely wearing a hole in the area rug. It’s been a full twenty-four hours since I’ve talked to Annie. She won’t answer my texts, and my calls have all gone straight to voicemail.
I’m so desperate to reach her I finally decide to brave it and reach out to Janie, knowing I’m likely to catch hell from her. I call and brace myself .
“What?” she answers, saying nothing else.
Okay, she’s set the tone. Now I know what to expect.
“Janie, it’s Jack. I need?—”
“I know who this is, asshat. I have caller ID. And I don’t give a rat’s ass what you need right now. You hurt my friend,” she hisses.
“Please, Janie. Just tell her to answer my calls. Last night… it’s not what she thinks. I didn’t do anything…” I say, practically begging her to listen to me.
“Jesus, Jack. Do you really think this is all just about last night? You didn’t do anything? Seriously? You’ve been treating her like shit for weeks now, and then she comes to the bar to help you, and finds you with another woman,” she spits out at me.
“I know. Believe me, I know,” I offer.
“No, I don’t think you do know, Jack. Do you know how much it hurt her when you wouldn’t open up to her? When you left her at your parents’ house without telling her you were leaving? When you snapped at her the morning after she picked your drunk ass up at the bar? Do you?” she asks, full on yelling at me now.
“Janie—” I start, but she’s not done yet.
“And then you stopped staying over and stopped coming to the ER on squad runs. You made her love you and then you left her, Jack. You left her alone. You made her cry. A lot.”
“God, Janie. I’m so sorry, I can’t even tell you. I love her. I need a chance to make this right.”
She doesn’t say anything for so long that I wonder if the call dropped.
“I’m sorry, Jack, but I’m not sure you can make it right. You didn’t just break her heart, you broke her spirit.” She’s not yelling anymore and the resigned tone in her voice is much, much worse.
I hang up with Janie and I can’t do anything but sit and let the emotions of the last two weeks slam into me. Emotions I’ve not been able to put into words to share with the one person who loved me enough to help me bear them.
Guilt. Anger. Blame. Fear. Sadness. Failure. Grief. Loneliness. They come fast and hard, hitting me right in the chest. Only this time, they aren’t just because of losing Teddy. They’re also here because of losing Annie. Her words from last night play back in my mind. Words I refused to acknowledge the meaning of until now.
It’s the last words from her beautiful mouth that sting the most. “I’m calling it,” she’d said.
There’s no mistaking what those words mean in our line of work. You “call it” when someone, or in this case, something, is dead. With no chance of being revived. In Annie’s eyes, our relationship is dead.
I’ve made the woman I love with everything in me give up on our relationship. It hits me so hard that a sob of grief rips from my lips and I just want to drown it like I’ve been trying to do with the pain over losing Teddy.
I don’t think I can survive losing them both. I can’t face it, can’t deal with it. I walk to the bar in my dining room and grab the half empty bottle of whiskey and a glass, ready to push away my pain, once again.
Just as I’m about to pour, out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of the white envelope sitting on my desk. I freeze.
I’m filled with this sense, this certainty , that what I do in these next few minutes will have a profound impact on what kind of man I become moving forward. For better or for worse.
It hurts so much that everything in me wants the whiskey. I want to pour it and forget, at least for tonight. But then I see her face in my mind. Her face when she laughs, when she sleeps, when she dances. Her face when she read my letter the night I told her I loved her.
No. I put down the bottle. I don’t want to forget. The love is greater than the pain. I can’t forget the pain without forgetting her, and I don’t want to numb these images of her, these memories, even for a few hours.
I walk to the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee. On the way back to the couch, I grab the envelope. I stare at it for several long seconds, my hands shaking.
I’m afraid to know what it says. Afraid that the loss will feel even more intense from Teddy’s words on the page that he wrote that night.
I finally open it, knowing with certainty that the only way through the pain is facing it head on. Preparing myself, I read the last words from my best friend.
Dear Jack,
I don’t know how to start this letter, but I also don’t want to leave here without you knowing how sorry I am because I know this will hurt you. I’m just so tired and things have gotten so hard. I feel so low and can’t pull out of it.
You likely know by now that I messed things up pretty badly again. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done to Em, but I want to at least try to explain what’s been going on in my head lately. I stopped my medicines and stopped seeing my therapist about a month after Em and I got married. I thought I was okay, but I wasn’t, and by the time I realized I was heading down a destructive path, I couldn’t stop the cycle.
I know you’re going to think I should have come to you, Jack, but I didn’t want to. Not because you haven’t always been there for me, you have. Hell, we first met when you bailed me out from getting my scrawny ass kicked mouthing off to those freshmen when we were in eighth grade. You didn’t even know me, and you intervened back then. You’ve been rescuing me from myself ever since.
I didn’t want to come to you because I wanted to be able to take care of myself and be the man I felt Emily deserved before we started trying to have a family. So, yeah, when I realized I was in trouble, I didn’t let you see it. In fact, I worked pretty hard to hide it from you. And I regret that now, but I can’t change what I’ve done.
I’ve lost her for good this time, Jack. I’ve lost Emily.
Jacky, you’re literally the only person in my life who knows about the hospitalization after Emily ended things when I cheated on her while she was in college. If you hadn’t found me then, I would never have had these years. You’ve given up so much trying to make sure I was okay, and I appreciate it, but it was never meant to be your long-term job.
When you and Annie got together and I saw how happy it made you, I realized that’s what you’ve always deserved. I need you to hold on to that happiness, brother. Don’t let this wreck you, please. She’s so good for you and anyone who knows her can see how much happier she is now than when she arrived in Elladine earlier this year. So, don’t let that go. For both your sakes.
I know how you operate, and I know you’re going to think you’re to blame for this somehow. I need you to know that you aren’t. I tried to call you last night… I know you’ll beat yourself up about that. When you tried to call me back, I chickened out and didn’t answer. You need to know you were never going to be able to stop this from happening. I only called because I wanted to tell you I love you and to thank you for being my brother. No brother by blood could have ever been a better one than you’ve been.
Please forgive me for the hurt this causes you and please watch out for Emily.
Thanks for being the best brother and best friend I could have ever hoped for.
I love you, brother. See you on the other side.
Love,
Teddy