Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
A NNIE
Parked in front of my house, Janie pulls my suitcase out of her car trunk while I secure Beanie’s leash. We walk to my front door and when Janie puts my luggage on the porch, I pull her into a tight hug.
“Thank you for everything, Janie. You knew just what I needed, and you made it happen. I couldn’t ask for a better best friend.”
“My pleasure, babe,” she says. She pulls back from the hug and squats down to scratch Beanie behind the ears. “And goodbye to you, my big brown beast.”
Beanie’s tail wags at her attention and I can’t help but smile.
I stand and watch as she drives away and then Bean and I head into our house. I decide to check my phone before unpacking. So, I walk to the couch and sit, and Beanie Boy lies across my lap.
When I turn my phone on, I have twenty-three text messages and six voicemails from Jack.
All but six of the text messages are from the first two days after… well, just after. Because that’s how I currently look at my life. Before Jack broke my heart and… after.
On the third day after , Jack left me a voicemail telling me he was sorry if he was overwhelming me with all the texts and calls and that he was going to force himself to limit his contact to one text a day, until I was ready to talk to him. He’s stuck to it, too.
For the last six days, there has been one text message each day and only one. I should just delete them without reading them, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
I read all his messages. Those from the first two days are filled with desperation, begging me to answer. I delete all of them. The last six are different. Less about him and more about me. I can’t bring myself to delete any of them, though I don’t respond either.
After going through the phone messages, I take my suitcase into my room and put away all my toiletries before gathering my dirty clothes in a laundry basket and carrying them to the basement of the house to throw them in the washing machine. Bean follows me everywhere.
Jack’s text messages keep popping into my head.
I try not to let myself go back and re-read them, but I can’t resist and when we get back up to the apartment, I lie on my bed and pull my phone out. Opening the texts, I read them again and try not to cry.
Tuesday —
I know I haven’t been acting like it lately but know that I love you so much and don’t want anyone else… ever.
Wednesday—
You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, both inside and out .
Thursday —
I miss you with everything in me. The light you brought into my life is so obvious now that you aren’t here.
Friday—
I dream of you at night, and it makes me want to stay asleep, where I can be with you, where I haven’t hurt you…
Saturday—
I’m going crazy not knowing if you’re safe. Janie says you are, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to relax until I see you again with my own eyes.
Sunday—
I’m so sorry I hurt you. Even though we aren’t together, the love I feel for you is still growing every day.
Standing outside ER Room One, I shake my head as I look down at the clipboard in my hand and see that the emergency cart wasn’t checked three days last week. So annoying!
The swish of the ambulance bay doors opening and a puff of cool air hitting me at the same time make me instinctively look up. My breath stills. For the first time in over ten days, I’m seeing Jack Donley. It’s October first. He’s not supposed to be here anymore.
I can’t look away even though I know I should. My heart races and my breaths are erratic. I want to feel nothing, or maybe anger, but that’s not what I feel. Instead, I’m hit with longing and a deep ache in my chest. I barely stop myself from putting my hand over the spot to try to rub away the pain.
It’s obvious when he finally sees me. His eyes find mine and he looks shocked—eyes wide, jaw slack, his mouth hanging open. He stops dead in his tracks, causing Fitz to look at him to see what’s going on.
That’s enough to jolt me out of my Jack induced stupor and I break our eye contact before quickly turning and heading toward the backdoors of the ER.
A sense of panic overtakes me as I try to figure out somewhere to go to avoid Jack. He shouldn’t be here. He’s B shift captain now—he promised he would stay away once he was captain if things didn’t work out.
Okay, maybe he promised he’d stay away if I wanted him to, but he must know that’s what I want. It is what I want, right? God, my heart is a traitorous bitch.
I find myself at the women’s restroom and decide that maybe this is the safest place. So, here I sit, hiding in a bathroom stall at twenty-seven years old so I can avoid my ex-boyfriend. Geez, this is a new low, even for me .
I stay there, sadly, until Janie texts me to tell me the coast is clear. Then I stay five more minutes just to be safe.
For the rest of the day, any time the squad phone rings for report, I make sure to find out which station is bringing a patient in. Shamelessly, I go back to my hiding place anytime it’s Station Three…
JACK
Riding shotgun in the ambulance on the way back to Station Three, I just keep reliving the few moments when I finally saw Annie again in the ER today.
I had the oddest sensation of my breath stuttering, and I had to remind my lungs to inhale again. I basically felt paralyzed when I saw those beautiful green eyes looking at me. I couldn’t move. I knew I needed to talk to her, but then she broke our eye contact and spun around to head in the opposite direction. I looked for her for ten minutes and couldn’t find her.
Later in the day, after I know Annie will have left work for the day, I have Finn ride squad with Fitz so I can get some of my captain responsibilities handled. I get settled in my new office and work on plans for training exercises to get some of our newer firefighters more experience fighting fire in a more controlled setting.
I’m having trouble focusing. If I was suspicious that Annie was avoiding me after that first medical call this morning, I was sure of it after the fourth, when I didn’t catch even another glimpse of her. I’m still disappointed that I didn’t get to talk to her. If I’m being honest, I think I hoped maybe once we saw each other, things wouldn’t be as bad as I’d feared. Now I worry that they’re worse…
Not able to stop myself, I pull out my phone and start scrolling through all the photos I have of Annie and me. When I’ve gone through them all twice, not having had enough self-torture for the day, I decide to see if Annie has unfriended me on her social media accounts. She hasn’t but, when I pull up her Facebook, I almost wish she had. Staring back at me from the screen are several photos that Annie’s been tagged in by someone named Millie Peterson. They’re dated from last week.
At first, the pictures aren’t so concerning—just Annie with an older couple and two younger men gathered around a table. The same group at a bar raising glasses in a toast. But then, it’s Annie and only one of the younger men posing with the older couple. Then Annie dancing with the same man, eyes closed, and her body pressed up against him.
A wave of anger and possessiveness washes over me before I realize I have no right to feel that way. Fuck. This can’t be happening. But it sure looks like it is.
That anger I’m feeling is replaced by fear and nausea.
I need to get her to talk to me so I can explain that nothing happened with Chelsea. Before it’s too late.