Chapter Nineteen
They pulled up outside of Eric’s house, and Jennifer hurried off the bike. Anger fueled her as she made her way up the steps.
Eric hadn’t said anything, but she wasn’t really giving him the chance.
He opened the front door, and she stepped inside. Her feet pulled her to the one place she knew the answers to her questions would be.
“Please let me explain,” Eric said quietly.
Jennifer ignored him as she stormed her way to the second bedroom, the forbidden room that after weeks of being together, she hadn’t gone into once in order to give him the privacy he desired.
The door flung open hard and smacked the wall behind it as she flipped on the light.
Boxes lay everywhere. Boxes full of photographs and small feminine things that someone might find lying around a house shared by two people.
“Jen, please.”
His voice cracked as he spoke, and any other time, she might have been swayed to listen, but her eyes had focused on something else now. Something demanding all her attention: a photo in a frame in one of the boxes.
Jennifer pulled out the picture and stared at the smiling couple. Eric was younger in the picture. She could see that several years had gone by since it was taken. In the background stood the same club Tommy worked at.
Before she’d suspected that Eric used to work there, and, judging by the photo, she’d been right.
The woman in the photo wore her hair long like Jennifer. It had the same rich brown color, only her own was slightly darker. Although the shape of their eyes was similar, the woman staring back had deep brown eyes.
“Carol,” she said quietly.
The woman could have easily been her sister. There was no mistaking the resemblance. Tears welled up in her eyes the more she looked at the photo of Eric and Carol together. She suddenly felt like an imposter.
She and Eric had no pictures like this. No smiling photos to remember the good times later.
“We met at the club when I was working there,” Eric said. “She often waited tables during my sets.”
Jennifer turned and stared at him. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look into his eyes. She didn’t want to see the love that was there for this woman. Instead she stared at his black shirt, secretly hoping she could burn a hole in it with her eyes.
“I’d known her for a few years before we started going out. A few months later and we were living together.” Eric shrugged.
Jennifer had always thought it was strange where he lived given his lifestyle. It made a lot more sense with a girlfriend.
“Pat and I used to talk about owning our own pub. Some place we could build up with our own hands. I always thought Carol was with us on that.”
Jennifer glanced up to his face and was surprised to find him frowning.
“We’d earned enough to put down a payment on the place,” Eric said. “Afterward, I went to work and put in my notice. When Carol found out what we’d done, she was furious with me.”
Jennifer was surprised by this. Why wouldn’t she want him to quit dancing? Surely this woman realized he couldn’t keep dancing forever.
“We argued, and she drove off angry.” Eric took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “That was the last I saw her alive.”
Jennifer glanced down at the smiling couple and frowned. Maybe they weren’t nearly as happy as she thought. She moved to place the picture back into the box but paused when a small black and white photo caught her eye.
Her eyes widened, and she bit down a gasp.
An ultrasound image of a baby no bigger than a bean.
“She ran a red light,” Eric said. “Didn’t even try to stop and was killed on impact.”
Jennifer could hear the shuddered breath he took behind her and couldn’t look at him or she’d start to cry.
“They found that picture on her,” he said quietly. “It had been why she didn’t want me to quit. I understood later. Stability. The pub was… is a big gamble, not like the steady and good money I earned dancing. So, my selfishness killed her.”
Everything in Jennifer wanted to comfort him, but as she stared at the woman in the picture, it was hard to ignore her own pain over the realization of just what their relationship truly was.
“You hired me because I look like her,” she said quietly. Her voice shook as she tried to contain all the emotions rushing through her head. She could hear the floor creak behind her as he stepped further into the room.
“I can’t deny that I didn’t see her in you,” Eric said. “At first. But you are so much more to me now.”
Jennifer looked at him from her position on the floor. Tears now freely fell down her cheeks.
“You want me to be her substitute. How am I supposed to respond to that?”
Eric stepped forward and knelt in front of her. He reached out to try and place his hands on her shoulders, but she shook them off as she stood.
“It’s not like that,” he said. “I was surprised when I saw you, but you and Carol are nothing alike. You’re so much more than what she was. We are so much more than that. You’re not a substitute or a replacement.”
Jennifer didn’t want to hear this. Just hearing the other woman’s name on his lips was enough to make her stomach ache. She pulled out her phone and stepped out of the room to call a Lyft. A car was very close. Lucky her. She slipped the phone back in her pocket after placing a pick-up request.
She gathered her things from around the house. It wasn’t much, but it still hurt to pick them up.
“Please don’t leave, Jen,” Eric said.
She found Eric standing in the hall just outside of the guest room, the small black and white picture in his hand. Her heart twisted, and she looked away.
“I can’t be someone else’s replacement,” Jennifer whispered. “Eventually, you’ll realize that, too.”
With that, she ran outside the front door and toward the lights of the oncoming Lyft. Once inside, she chanced a glance back and saw Eric standing in the door, the small picture still in hand.
Jennifer cried quietly to herself the rest of the ride back to her apartment.