Chapter Twelve

Lena

Four weeks later...

"I wasn't even supposed to be here." The woman on the screen speaks with a quivering voice as she wipes the mascara-stained tears from her cheek. "I never expected any of this. I never expected the love..."

"Or the pain," I finish the line softly before turning the TV off.

A tear trickles down my own cheek and I quickly wipe it off with the back of my hand.

Why? Why does my heart continue to break even though it's been a month?

I thought it had started to heal. After crying my heart out in the show's conclusion even though I'd told myself I wouldn't shed a single tear, I thought I was done sobbing. But in the days that followed, days the network gave me time to rest and recover, I ended up watching sappy movies in bed and crying over every single one while gorging on vanilla ice cream and potato chips. I almost didn't want to go back to work, but I did, wearing sunglasses to hide my puffy eyes. It turned out to be a good thing because work was as hectic as ever and it distracted me from the pain I was feeling. I thought that pain had finally started to evaporate along with my tears. I could smile again and even fake a laugh. I could eat and sleep again. I felt human again. I was starting to live again.

Or so I thought until the episodes I filmed with Riley started to air. At first I tried to ignore them, even though everyone else was talking about them. I've been working on the show, but I didn't realize just how popular it was until everyone saw me on it. Even my sister saw it, and then I had to explain everything to her because she got mad that I hadn't told her about it in the first place.

I tried not to pay attention to the show, but I got sucked in anyway. I started watching. I must be some particularly stupid kind of masochist. Now it's over. The final episode has just finished airing and here I am--a mess. Again.

It's like my heart is shattering all over again.

So this is what it feels like to be run over by a bus. Twice. Somehow, it seems worse than dying.

My phone rings. I don't pick it up at first because I don't trust myself to talk. But it rings a second time.

I seize it off the coffee table and glance at the screen.

Ollie.

Shit. My sister must have watched this episode too.

I answer the call because I know she'll get mad at me later if I don't.

"Lena?"

"Yup, I'm still alive," I tell her. Even though I feel the life flowing out of me from an unseen gaping hole.

"Good. Because I need you to tell me where that bastard is so I can kill him."

The rage in her voice takes me by surprise. I can tell she has her jaw clenched and maybe even a fist.

Kill him? I never even thought of that.

I sit back. "Don't bother. He's already dead to me."

"Is that why you sound like you're about to cry?"

I don't answer at once. So she's noticed, huh? But of course she would. She knows me so well.

And the strange thing is, now that she's mentioned it, I feel like crying even more.

I draw a deep breath. "Don't people cry over the dead?"

"Only if the person who died was good to them."

My throat hurts from the effort of trying to hold back tears.

But he was good to me. He was... amazing. That's why it's so hard for me to let him go, even though he was the first to let go.

"I... thought he cared about me."

"Yes, we all thought that. He had us all hoping. But he crushed all those hopes, didn't he? He threw you away like some toy he didn't want to play with anymore..."

I close my eyes as my sister's words pierce me like knives.

"He didn't even have the decency to say goodbye. Isn't that why you were a mess?"

Yes. That did hurt. I was already bracing myself for the goodbye, and when I realized I wasn't even going to get that, I just started breaking down.

And I'm breaking down all over again.

My voice quivers as my tears fall. "I'm such a fool, aren't I?"

That's the hardest part of all to swallow. I should have been smarter. I knew it was a stupid show. I knew none of it was real. I knew it wouldn't last. Still, I hoped and I believed. Still, I loved.

My sister sighs. Her voice softens. "Well, you've never been in love before. Very few first loves end happily. Yours just happened to be on TV."

I sniff as I look around for the box of tissues. "So now everyone is laughing at me."

"I'm not. I don't think anyone is. My friend just sent me a text that she cried over that last episode."

I pull out a few sheets from the box and blow my nose. "So everyone feels sorry for me?"

"They're sympathizing with you. They think Riley Boyle is a jerk, which is the truth."

Yes, he is, I silently agree as I blow my nose again. But why don't I feel happy to hear it? Why can't I bring myself to hate him?

"Just forget about him," Ollie urges. "A jerk like him isn't worth crying over."

And still the tears continue to fall.

"You'll get through this," she goes on. "You may be new to romance, but you're not new to heartbreak."

My eyebrows arch. What is she talking about?

"Remember when Mom left? You cried buckets then, too."

Right. I did. I cried for nights after that.

"I remember how I tried desperately to comfort you. Dad wanted to, but he couldn't stand to see you crying, so I was the one who did it instead. I sang you songs. I played games with you and let you borrow my toys. I fixed your hair. But none of those worked. You remember what did?"

"Ice cream," I answer.

"Vanilla ice cream," she seconds.

Ever since then, it's the only junk food my Dad allows.

"I've already had tubs of that."

"Well, have some more. You've never been the kind of person to gain weight easily anyway. And if you do gain a few pounds, so what? Just jog it off."

I glance at the fridge on the far corner. "Maybe I will get another tub tomorrow."

"That's my girl. But don't forget to eat other stuff, too, okay?" Ollie sighs. "I wish I could go over there and take care of you, but I have my own babies to take care of now."

"I know."

"And Dad."

"Did he see the show?" I ask her.

"Nope. Dad doesn't really like watching TV. He says it's exhausting reading subtitles."

"I understand."

Well, that's good, because I don't know how he'd react if he'd seen me on the show. And I don't know what I'd say to him.

"I have to go," my sister says. "But not before you promise me you'll take care of yourself."

Bossy as ever.

"I will," I promise her.

"And that you won't try anything stupid."

I frown. "I think I've had enough stupidity to last me a lifetime."

"And that you'll tell me the next time you fall in love with someone. Just me. Not the whole world."

I sigh. "I don't think I'll ever fall in love again."

"Stop that. You can't give up on love just because the first man who happened to steal your heart turned out to be a complete jerk. Pity, though. I thought Riley Boyle was a keeper. Dad liked him, too."

"I know."

I was supposed to get an autograph for Dad, but I didn't have that chance.

"You'll find someone better," Ollie assures me. "Someone who'll treat you the way you're supposed to be treated. With love, care and respect."

"Whatever." Right now, I can't bring myself to believe it. "Anything else?"

"Get that tub of vanilla ice cream."

I grin. "Yes, ma'am."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

The call ends and I put down my phone beside me. My gaze goes to the empty TV screen. As I remember the last image on it, my chest tightens again, but I close my eyes and draw a deep breath. It still hurts, but that call from my sister is just what I need to keep myself together.

I push the tissue box away. No more tears.

I'm strong. I'll get through this.

I get off the couch and walk to the kitchen.

And tomorrow, I'll get myself more ice cream.

~

I reach for the handle of the fridge the same moment someone else does. I pull my hand away and stare into deep brown orbs, like pools of molten chocolate, set beneath bushy eyebrows atop a slightly humped nose. A pair of thin lips surrounded by a thin beard curve into a smile.

"I'm sorry," the man in front of me says as he steps back. "Go ahead."

"No." I shake my head. "You first."

I'm in no rush. I can wait.

His eyebrows furrow. "Wait. Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

Uh-oh. I forgot I wasn't wearing my sunglasses or my cap.

I shrug. "Maybe someone who looks like me. I'm pretty average, after all."

"No." He touches his chin. "It is you. You're Lena from Wed For A Week. The one with Riley Boyle."

Shit. He saw that?

I quickly glance around to see if anyone heard him. Thankfully, there's no one. Even so, it's time for me to leave before someone else recognizes me.

"You know what? I'll go ahead."

I grab the handle of the fridge and open it.

"Let me." He takes the handle from my hand. "It's the least I can do."

I send him a frown. "What? For a girl who's just been dumped on national TV?"

"For an amazing woman who didn't deserve to be used," he answers.

The words take me by surprise, and surprisingly touch my frail heart. I tuck strands of hair behind my ear as I turn to face him.

"Thank you."

He shakes his head as he closes the door. "For what? For telling the truth? To be honest, it makes me sick when men treat women like that. It ruins things for the rest of us, you know. A jerk screws with one woman's heart and then she shuts it and deprives all the honest guys of their chance."

My eyebrows crease. "So you're one of the good guys?"

He shrugs. "I'm more of an Ashley Wilkes than a Rhett Butler."

My eyes grow wide. "You like movies?"

"I've watched a few," he answers.

Including Gone with the Wind, one of my favorites. I wonder what else he's seen. Wait. He likes movies and he watches reality shows on TV. He's not gay, is he?

"What's your favorite?" I ask him.

He rubs his nape. "Oh, there are too many."

"Name one."

"First Blood."

Okay. That's probably the manliest choice I can think of.

"You look confused," he remarks.

I shake my head. "I'm just... wondering why a guy who likes John Rambo would watch a reality show about relationships."

"Oh, that." He scratches the back of his head. "My twelve-year-old niece was staying at the house last night because her parents were on their anniversary date. She was watching and I just ended up glancing at the screen."

Something tells me he did more than glance, but I don't press the issue.

"She's also the reason I'm getting ice cream," he adds.

"Oh. Did she ask you to buy some?"

"No. She finished my stash."

I chuckle.

Just then, a woman in her fifties barges between us to get ice cream. We step back to give her room and wait until she's gone.

"Well, she wants her ice cream badly," the guy comments after.

I don't even know his name.

"Yeah."

"Would you like to go somewhere else for ice cream? Maybe an ice cream parlor? After a movie?"

My gaze narrows. "Are you asking me out?"

"It's better to eat ice cream with someone else than to eat it alone, right?" he answers.

Well, that's true, but...

"And I know this great comedy that just came out. They say it can make anyone laugh. Why don't we go and check if that even applies to broken-hearted people?"

"Like me?"

"You're not the only one nursing a broken heart."

My eyebrows rise. He's broken-hearted, too?

"Don't worry," he tells me. "I'm not trying to hit on you or something. I just want to be a friend. Looks like you need one."

I have to admit I do. But can I trust him? Isn't it too soon for me to be putting my faith in men again, to hang out with one?

But then his words come back to me--the one about bad guys robbing good guys of their chances. And also Ollie's words about not giving up on love and finding someone better.

Is it really too soon? Hasn't it been a month?

Wait. It's not like I'm getting a new boyfriend. He did just say he wants to be my friend.

Besides, I can't imagine Ashley Wilkes hitting on a woman.

"Well?" he asks.

I touch my cheek. "I just have a big problem."

"What?"

"I don't know your name."

He smiles as he offers me his hand. "Aaron."

I shake his hand.

"Shall we go and find ourselves a teeny bit of happiness?" he asks.

I give him a smile. "Sounds good."

~

So far, everything's been good. The movie. Dinner--because Aaron insisted we have something besides ice cream in our stomachs. The huge bowl of vanilla cream topped with marshmallows and drizzled with chocolate and caramel syrup that I just finished. Even Aaron's not so bad. True, he's not as tall as Riley, or as muscular. I can see his belly bulging beneath his shirt. But he is nice. Maybe that's what I should go for--nice and not hot.

"Thank you," I tell Aaron as we walk out of the parlor. "The ice cream was great."

He pats his tummy. "Yeah, it was."

"And not just the ice cream," I add. "Thanks for everything."

I turn my head to give him a smile, but to my surprise, he leans forward. His hand grips my arm. His lips press against mine.

My eyes grow wide. Earlier, when he wiped some syrup off my chin with his thumb and then licked it, I let that go. But this?

I pull away and cover my mouth. "Aaron, what are you doing?"

He gives me a mischievous grin. "I thought you wanted to thank me."

What?

"And I've been wanting to do that since I saw you."

"But--"

"My ex-girlfriend, I broke up with her because she wouldn't let me do anything. Said she took a fucking vow or something." Aaron snorts. "She was just a fucking tease."

My hand falls from my mouth as I look at him in horror. What's going on? Who is this man in front of me? Mr. Hyde?

"But you're not like that, are you?" His grip on my arm tightens and I wince. "I saw you on TV. You gave that pretty boy a good time and--"

"Let me go," I cut him off as I try to wrench my arm free. "You're hurting me."

He grasps my chin and forces me to look into his eyes, now clouded with lust. "Don't worry. I'll treat you better than he did."

I glare at him as I slap his hand away. "You're not going to treat me at all. I'm done with you."

I pull my arm but he won't let go.

"I said let me--"

I don't finish because a motorcycle engine roars through the air. I turn my head to see it coming. Fast. It seems to be going straight for Aaron and he realizes it, too, so he releases my arm and steps back. As he does, he stumbles on the steps of the parlor and falls.

The motorcycle turns and leaves. I seize the opportunity I'm given and hail a cab.

"Lena!" Aaron shouts.

I ignore him and get inside the cab. As it drives off, I catch a glimpse of Aaron in the rearview mirror, angrily kicking a trash bin.

Good guy my ass. He was a villain all along. A jerk just like Riley. No. He's even worse.

I slap my forehead.

Oh, Lena, how stupid can you get?

I thought I'd learned my lesson, but it seems I still have a lot to learn when it comes to men. I made another mistake by trusting one just because he looked nice and he knew about movies, and I almost paid dearly for it. Thank goodness he got impatient and showed me his true colors before it was too late.

I let out a sigh of relief as I relax against the backseat.

It's good that I managed to get rid of Aaron, but I know I wouldn't have if not for that crazy motorcycle. Whether he was just fooling around or he was really trying to help me, that motorcycle driver saved me.

I wonder who he was.