Chapter Fifteen You Are The Reason
You Are The Reason
Joseph
MY ALCOHOL-INDUCED CALM HAS PASSED, AND now the need to see my girl is overpowering. I’m done waiting. I send Michael a text telling him I’m on my way. I take a couple of Advil, grab a water, and head to the penthouse below ours.
She’s only one floor away, but it feels like a continent at the moment. A floor, a door, the width of our clothing, a single breath between us seems too great a distance.
I knock, knowing it won’t open, praying she’ll at least listen if nothing else. There’s shuffling on the other side, a few murmurs. Then I hear Michael. “She’s here. She can hear you.”
On a thankful sigh, I lean against the door and speak into the crack that separates us. “Sweetness.” My voice breaks, and I have to take a couple of deep breaths to keep my shit together.
With steadier emotions, I try again. “Those pictures…the guy in them. It’s not me. I know all the evidence tells you otherwise. But it’s not me, and I’ll prove it to you. Don’t give up on me—on us. Give me time to find Veronica and get to the bottom of it.”
Her sob breeches the barrier between us, and it guts me.
“Sweetness, please let me in. Let me hold you. Comfort you.”
More sobs.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
She wails.
Shit! “No. I’m not apologizing because I cheated. I didn’t. Those photos are not me. I understand why you think they could be real, but I promise you they aren’t. I’m sorry for hurting you, for making you doubt me, for everything that Veronica’s done to you.”
“Us,” she croaks from the other side.
I gasp on my own sob. “Yes. Us. What’s she’s done to us.”
She spoke to me. She thinks we’re still an us.
There is hope, and I’m not letting go of it.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You cry, and I’ll sit here and comfort you.
” I slide down the door, sitting sideways, my lips pressed to the crack, and I swear I can feel her breath slipping through and feeding my soul.
“Joseph,” she cries with such anguish. Her voice is even with mine, confirming she’s on the floor too.
“I’m here, Samantha. I promise you I’ll always be here. Until my dying day, I’ll always be here.”
Her crying stops only to start up again. Hours pass and eventually she falls silent as do I, afraid if she’s fallen asleep, my voice will wake her up.
My ass is numb, and I’m sore from sitting in the same position, but I don’t dare move. Her cries, her words, her silence are the only company—only comfort—I need.
I start to doze. My head falls forward, and I catch myself. I’ve ignored offers from William to get me something more comfortable to sit on. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sleep right here on this cold hard floor. It’s as close as I can get to her. I need to be here if she needs me.
At some point, I must have fallen over. I open my eyes and blink at Michael, who is staring down at me. He throws me a pillow and comforter. “She fell asleep. I put her in bed, but she insisted I give you those if you’re going to stay out here all night.”
I sit up, smiling. “She still cares.”
Michael laughs. “Of course she cares, jackass. You don’t cry your eyes out over someone you don’t give a shit about.” He throws something at William. “The key to 2D. He’s gonna have to go to the bathroom eventually. Maybe you can drag him inside once he falls asleep.”
“I’ll fire you if you do.” I crack my neck and smile at my comforter and pillow. My girl is looking out for me. It’s a good sign.
Day 2
Joseph
I wake on the hard floor, wrapped in the comforter, my head on the pillow and a smile on my face. Things don’t seem so bleak today. My girl spoke to me last night. She made sure my camping out at her door was as comfortable as possible, and she still considers us an us. That’s huge.
Stretching out my aches, I get to my feet and spot Victor in a chair outside the other penthouse door. “Good morning, lover boy. Breakfast and coffee are inside, if you’d like some.” He stands as I approach.
I shove the comforter and pillow at him. “Take care of these, will you? I’ll need them later.”
“Yes, sir.” He chuckles, finding this way too humorous.
First stop, the bathroom, then breakfast, and then attacking my plan to woo my girl and prove my innocence.
Samantha
When my father died, I thought I knew what darkness was. When I broke up with Joseph, believing he slept with someone else that same night, I didn’t think I could sink any lower. I was wrong. I should know better than to tempt fate, believing it couldn’t get any worse. It can always get worse.
I’m not going to say this is the worst—that I can’t go any lower—the whole fate thing has me skittish. So, I’ll just say—it sucks. I’m feeling emotionally hung over, and in desperate need of my Joseph fix.
He couldn’t have been any sweeter last night.
He didn’t force his way in. My Caveman honored my wishes, my request that he not try to see me.
He kept his word, comforting me from the other side of the door in a way that only Joseph can do with a simple turn of a phrase.
He might be a caveman, but he’s a romantic beast.
Flowers. He sent me the largest arrangement of flowers I’ve ever seen. There have to be six dozen roses, at least. William sets it on the coffee table and hands me the card.
My Sweets,
I love you more with every passing moment.
Don’t let the doubt in.
Check out the newest song in your music library.
You are the reason for everything I do, for everything I am,
for everything I will be.
I love you,
Joseph
I pull up my music on my phone, and there in my library is a new song, “You Are The Reason” by Calum Scott. I hit play, and by the end of the first verse I’m crying.
I send him a text as I continue to listen.
Me: You break my heart in the most amazing ways.
Joseph: If I’m breaking your heart, then I’m doing something wrong, Sweets.
Me: You’re doing everything right, Caveman.
I wipe my tears and lie back on the couch, his card held to my chest. As I listen to his song again, my phone chimes.
Joseph: I’ll be at your door after dinner. I’ll bring my blanket and pillow. You don’t have to say a word. I need to be close to you. To feel you near.
That night and the two that follow, Joseph shows up after dinner.
He sits outside the penthouse door, talking to me through the crack.
Sometimes I answer, but most times I don’t trust myself to not break down.
I love him, and I know he loves me. I don’t know how we move past this.
How can I marry him after seeing those pictures?
Those pictures that don’t make any sense to me.
How could he cheat on me with Veronica, of all people, and that bitch Lydia?
He wouldn’t! But…I don’t know what to believe.
My heart and my eyes don’t agree, and I can’t bear to look at those pictures again—to study them—to pick them apart—to see if I can tell truth from lies.
So, I don’t. I stay sequestered the Friday after Thanksgiving through the weekend.
The only time I feel alive is when Joseph is sitting outside my door at night, telling me he loves me and that he’ll prove his innocence.
Proof. I need proof, and that’s what he’s promising.
So, I wait each day for him to show me he’s not a cheater—that it’s all a scam—concocted by one of my brother’s ex-sluts and my fiancé’s bitter ex-PA, all in an effort to get back at me for a wrong they believe I’ve done them, when in fact, I’ve done absolutely nothing.
But sometimes life and people don’t care much about truth or what’s right. Sometimes life throws a tantrum, and those in its wake just have to hold on, ride it out, and pray—pray—for mercy.