Jake
I don’t have to wait long for David to leave for work, so caught up in himself he doesn’t notice my car parked in the street. I’m at a loss as to how to move forward from here. I know Aubrey loves me. I can’t be in this entirely alone but I don’t know how to break her down, how to make her see. Her walls are iron tight and if I knew how to blow them the fuck down, I would, but I don’t even know where to start. I know deep down that her barriers will only begin to drop, to let me in when she wants it to happen. I’m at a loss as to how to get her to fight. Fuck, I’ve been trying for months. But nothing.
Still, I can’t believe I exposed us to everyone last night. I can’t even pretend that I’m not worried the love she had for me didn’t disintegrate after what I did. Fuck, everyone knows. Everyone. Annabelle fucking lost it, trying to get me to talk. To tell her what the hell was going on but I couldn’t. Not my place to share our story, if Aubrey wants Annabelle to know, she’ll share. God knows what happened between her and David, he couldn’t have ignored this, not this time, not even if he wanted to.
My head hurts. Hangover and over-worked mind making my brain want to explode. Wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome. Nervous energy courses through my veins and I feel clammy because I know this is it. If she tells me no again, I’ll stop. I’ll accept the rejection and let her go. I can’t handle the constant fight anymore, not with her blocking me at every turn.
I stop midway across the street multiple times to turn back to my car and leave. Afraid. Scared shitless of her dismissal, of her lies that are so deep-seated I'm convinced she actually believes them.
My knuckle drums a soft rhythmic beat on the wood of her door, and the returning silence is deafening. I control my breathing, so it’s barely audible, straining to listen for any sign of her on the other side of the wood. I wait a minute, maybe two before the lock clicks and I see her through the crack she allows in the door.
"J-Baby," she whispers, her voice catching in the dryness of her throat as she widens the door.
My eyes close at the endearment. Equal parts anger and relief coursing through my veins. She looks like shit. Dark circles bruising under her eyes, her porcelain skin, dull and lifeless. Suddenly self-conscious she pulls her arms into the sleeves of her hoodie, using the material covering her hands to brush back the hair from her face. "I… ummm… didn't expect… come in," she gestures, stepping back from the door allowing me access. She still smells sweet, her scent coaxing me closer, tempting me to touch her.
Turning my back, I close the door and keep my back to her gathering my thoughts. "Can I get you anything, a drink or…" she trails off as I shake my head, turning to look at her.
Shifting on her feet, she watches me expectantly. "What are you doing here, Jake?" she questions softly when I remain silent, awkwardness radiating from her.
"I don't know. To apologize, I guess… last night, shit, Strawb'ries." My eyes meet the ceiling, the cords of my neck straining to swallow.
"You don't owe me an apology, Jake," she whispers. "What happened was deserved… I… Please just… don't apologize to me, you've done nothing wrong."
Righting my neck, I meet her eyes again. "I hurt you, Aubrey. Intimately. Brutally. Publically," I stress, once again the feeling of sick threatening to suffocate me.
"Look, Jake," she sighs, her thumb and forefinger holding the bridge of her nose. "This can't go any further, I think we both know enough damage has been done. It's best we accept that this…" she trails off into nothing, sniffing into her hoodie.
"I love you, Aubrey," I urge and her eyes close over at the pain my words cause. "I need you. But more than that, I want you," I continue, moving into her space, using my thumb to trace the socket of her eye, encouraging them to open. She needs to see my words, the truth and fight in my eyes as I speak. So I wait until the crystal color of her eyes meet mine before I say anything more. "I want everything with you, Strawb'ries. I want to know that every day I get to tell you that I love you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and see your beautiful skin and taste your lips. I want to go to sleep with you every night after I've heard every detail about your day. I want to touch you, taste you, make love to you, fuck you. Every. Single. Day. For the rest of my life." My hand cups her cheek, the pad of my thumb following the shade of color decorating her cheek bone. "I want to be your husband, the father of your babies. But more than any of that… I. Just. Want. You."
I pause for a breath to see the reaction my words bring, but she shuts me out. Her eyes have once again closed over, cotton covered hands hiding the bottom half of her face. The only thing I can see is the wet droplets spilling from the corner of her eyes and I choose to take that as my encouragement to continue. "Because, I love you and I know you love me. I know it deep in my soul, Aubrey," I implore, my voice quiet and gentle, but my body tight with tension as my fist rests against my chest, on my heart, trying with everything to portray the depth of my feeling.
Her crystal colored eyes open again as she watches me. The eyes I love so much shine brighter with the tears pooling inside them. Her cheeks give evidence to how my words affect her, track lines of tears staining her porcelain skin. But even with her body language, so obvious in its allegiance, she still shakes her head. Denying her feelings. Denying me.
My heart beats faster in panic at the action. The swift negative movement of her head as her chin trembles restricts the blood flow to my heart, making it thump loudly in my ears. "I don't fucking get it, Aubrey," I snap, adrenaline creeping into my body, my brain's defenses kicking in, showing her my desperation, willing her, begging her to fight. "You're settling. I know that. You know that," I stress, my hands coursing through my hair, pulling it from my eyes. "You're fucking settling, for what? A second-rate love, if you could even call it that," I cough out. "It doesn't make any sense. Do you even love him? At all? Because if you do, this," I say, gesturing between the two of us. "Wouldn't have happened. If you loved him even a little bit, just a portion of the way you love me and don't fucking deny it," I laugh humorlessly. “Then you couldn't… wouldn't want to betray him the way you have been."
Aubrey turns away from me, crossing her arms over her chest as her shoulders move in practiced movements to calm whatever's storming through her brain. She's silent, and I wait anxiously behind her. My feet itch to move closer to her, to touch her. Maybe that way I could make her see how intensely she reacts to my touch. Maybe that way, I could make her see the strength of the feelings she has for me. She told me herself no one has ever made her feel the way I do. I do things to her body that no other person has or can. It's me and only me. It's because she trusts me, she’s comfortable to open herself up to me. Because she fucking loves me.
Tension radiates from her body; her shoulders are squared tightly and my body sags in disappointment. "Jake, I'm sorry this meant more to you than it did for me. I assumed you knew that this was only a bit of fun, I never meant for feelings to come into it. I love David," she chokes out, her lie catching in her throat as she pushes herself to keep going. "I don't feel that way for you. I'm really sorry, Jake," her voice has gone flat, devoid of any emotion as she twists the knife lodged in my chest. “I don't love you."
I imagine this is what it feels like to have your heart ripped from your body. To have your chest cracked wide open and the organ meant to keep you breathing, to keep your body alive, dragged roughly from you. Imagine the pain of that when you don't get to die. You have to continue on, live and breathe like the rest of the world when you're nothing but a shell. A member of the living dead with no possible way to stop the agony of trying to live without your lifeline.
"You can't even look at me when you're spewing this shit," I breathe out, massaging my temples to release the tension. "Is it really just this deep-seated fear of betraying your dad that’s stopping you from being happy? You've concocted some false ideal that settling for someone like David will make him happy. You think your dad really gives a fucking shit who you end up with? He wants you happy, Aubrey. That's it. He wants you fucking happy, but you’re blinded by your own insecurities," I spit, my whole body shaking with anger.
She spins towards me, the fear my words have caused making her whole body shake. "Don't you fucking dare, Jake Dean. You don't know shit about me or my life. You were half a decent lay for a while when I was bored. Nothing more," she purses her lips in distaste.
Stepping closer into my space her breathing comes sharp and even. "You mean nothing to me. Nothing. We're so fucking done, Jake. Do not call me again. Avoid me at every given opportunity, because I want nothing from you."
My eyes scan her face. I take in the lines etched into her skin, unattractive in their sour grimace. The tornado of emotions whirling in her crystal colored eyes. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Loss. Her entire body is quaking with the overwhelming feelings burying her, and her strength is wavering to keep them from suffocating her.
How can I love this woman? How can someone who doesn't care to fight for me, own my heart? I swallow the bile in my throat, grimacing at the taste her rejection brings me. I focus on her eyes because they've always been key to reading her. Our stare holds for long drawn out minutes and every second that passes my heart cracks further with hurt while my brain fumes at her inability to work up the courage to have the life she really wants.
I bark out a laugh. Dry, humorless, and sarcastic before turning towards the door. "Enjoy your second-rate life, Aubrey. Enjoy what you've chosen to settle for and when your husband," I say with acid on my tongue, the word burning my mouth to articulate, "fucks you routinely on the second Tuesday of every month, think of me, what I can make you feel and what he most definitely can't. But more importantly, remember the life I wanted to give you and keep that inside when you finally want to admit that you were too fucking stupid to let yourself have what you really wanted. And when that's settled inside of you, remember that life doesn't afford too many second chances."
I slam the front door with more force than necessary, not allowing myself a backward glance. Not allowing myself a single moment to second guess my words or attempt to dissect her reaction. It's done. Relief courses through my veins for the briefest of moments as the entryway to her home shakes with the violence of my anger. However brief, it’s calming, so I'll take it. I can't allow myself time to breathe, instead moving fast from her porch and into the coolness of the day.
Yanking open my car door, I dump myself into the seat and punch the steering wheel.
"FUCK!" I yell, my fist connecting over and over again with the leather of the wheel until my fist begins to pulse in pain. Slumping back into my seat I breathe heavy. My eyes sting and I rub my nose with the inside of my thumb, sniffing back any tears threatening to spill.
I feel like an idiot. Before I reached her door, I knew I'd come away empty-handed. That she'd deny what she truly felt. I just couldn't begin to imagine how deep her rejection would cut or how buried her determination would be. Never could I have imagined she would turn what we shared into nothing. That she would be able to look into my eyes and lie so convincingly about her feelings. I thought I knew her. Thought that I understood who she was. I was wrong. So God damn fucking wrong and I feel like a fool.
I screech the wheels of my car as I pull out of Aubrey's street in a rush, needing to be anywhere but here. Needing any kind of distance from the scene that just unfolded. It won't help; I know that. Every word we exchanged is burnt into my brain, replaying itself on a loop allowing me to relive my heart breaking over and over again.
My music is loud, echoing through my ears as I drive. It's nice, not allowing my thoughts to get too much traction amongst the noise inside my head. I drive fast. Erratically. The weaving in and out of traffic calming to the veins itching under my skin. I make it back to Carnation in record time, thankful that Archer and Annabelle aren't home to stop my ascent up Ma's porch, into the house, up the stairs, and into my room.
Locking the door behind me I pull my cell from my pocket, wanting to throw the fucker when Aubrey hasn't attempted contact. As much as I knew, I couldn't help but hope my words would hit home and she'd come to her fucking senses. Switching it off I throw it on my side table with my keys and search for some headphones.
Music deafening headphones in place to allow silence through the rest of the house, I fall onto my bed and stare at nothing. The white ceiling mocks me, a blank canvas to play images held tightly within the forefront of my mind.
Aubrey.
Her crystal colored eyes and porcelain skin.
Her smell, so fucking sweet. Trumped only by the slight shade her cheeks take when she smiles.
Or laughs.
The wink. The fucking wink. My dick hardens immediately, and I could easily reach down and rub one out. Jerk off to thoughts of the way her back arches when she comes, the way her lips meet my dimple when I smile or how she keeps her lips attach to my throat after I've reached it, taking comfort in the heavy rhythm of my pulse.
But I don't. My stupid cock can stay hard for all I care. I refuse to let myself come with her name breaking from my lips. Not again.
So instead, I let the ceiling mock me. Remind me of every moment we've shared. Every phone call whispered into the dark of the night. Every text message sent at any given point in the day, whenever the need to speak to her became too much. Which was often. Way too fucking often. If I'd had more willpower, if I were stronger, maybe a better person, I wouldn’t be here. I deserve to feel like shit. What type of wanker chases after someone who already has a man? What type of stupid cunt keeps fighting when the other person clearly doesn't want them back?
Me. Pure and simple. Me.
I'm the fucking wanker.
The stupid fucking cunt.
I'd be mentally unstable if I'd had any hope that I'd win out. I had no chance. Never did. Aubrey and I were never going to be any more than what we were. I was just the stupid sucker that let myself hope against reason it'd be more.
Not once throughout the day and into the night, does sleep lull me into unconsciousness. So, I just lay there having to feel the pain slicing though my body at the knowledge that Aubrey doesn’t love me back. Not enough anyway. Not enough to take a chance on me.
By morning, I resolve to put it behind me. All of it. Every. Single. Fucking. Moment. Leave it in the dark avenues of my mind as a temporary lapse in judgment and work at convincing myself that it was lust. Nothing more. Nothing deeper. Just an intense sexual attraction that I allowed myself to obsess over. Aubrey is nobody to me. Nothing but an intense and earth shattering fuck buddy that has finally run her course. I let that be my mantra, hoping that one day, maybe, I’ll eventually believe it. Maybe it’ll settle inside so deep that I have no choice but to accept it as truth. It worked for her, why not me? Good fucking luck, right? I laugh at how stupid it sounds but it’s the only plan I can muster.
I thought about going full-blown Archer and losing myself into oblivion with booze. Thought about following in Annabelle’s footsteps and living in monotony, becoming a shell of who I used to be. But I can’t stomach the thought of my family trying to fix it. Trying to fix me. Of them trying to convince me I’m better off without her. That I have my whole life ahead of me to find someone better. Someone who loves me. Who wants me and could make me happy.
That, and I don’t want to give Annabelle further reason to hate Aubrey. I feel like a dick having inserted myself into their relationship without Annabelle’s knowledge and being the cause for their fallout. They’ve been friends since I can remember and the hurt and anger Annabelle is projecting onto Aubrey is my fault.
All those months ago I should have left it alone. Left her alone. But seeing her standing at the bar in Arlington, looking so broken and resigned to her own company, it broke my heart.
I should have left her alone. But I couldn’t, and as the night went on my attraction and need to make her feel good consumed me. Overtook my entire being and on reflection, I know I took advantage. She was broken, struggling to comprehend what path her life was taking and I did nothing to stop what happened between us. Of course she took the opportunity I gave her. She was hurting, needing… craving any type of comfort someone could give her and I chose that moment in my life to be selfish. I gave her what she needed, without a fight, without any strength in resistance. We made each other feel good for a night and started on a path of destruction for not only ourselves but for our friends and family. We brought the people we love most into our tangled web of deceit and lies and slowly but surely began destroying our lives from the inside out.
How do each of us come back from this? How do we possibly begin to piece back our own lives before fixing what we broke in everyone else? It’s a pointless cycle. Aubrey and David. Aubrey and Annabelle. Me and Annabelle. Me and Aubrey. Aubrey. Me. And anyone else our selfishness affected. Joseph, Clarah, Steve, Ma, Archer. Who do we fix first? Ourselves? Or the people we love that were unintentionally caught up? I don’t fucking know and I’m sure as shit that Aubrey doesn’t either. Which means we’ll both pretend nothing happened. We’ll go on with life like we haven’t up-ended it and are drowning, with no idea where the fuck up is.
I shower before heading down to see Ma. I spend longer than necessary under the boiling heat of the water. Working to rid the humiliation and disdain from my body. Unsuccessfully. Turning off the faucets, I don’t feel any cleaner or more honorable in any way. But I expect to live like this for some time. Culpable of my actions. Ashamed of myself for what we did and the hurt we caused.
“Hey, Jakey,” Ma greets me softly when I enter the kitchen moving towards the coffee. “You crashed out early last night,” she prompts moving to sit on the bench.
Pouring a coffee, I nod my head, not turning towards her.
“You doing okay?” she questions, and I turn to rest my hips against the cool marble of the countertop.
“Yeah, Ma, I’m good. Decided to put all this shit behind me. I’m not gonna wish it didn’t happen because, well…everything helps shape you, right?” I pause, shrugging lightly, meeting her small sympathetic smile with my own. “But I’m good. Honest.”
Ma smiles wide at my lie, convinced by my soft-spoken deceit. She has no reason not to trust me. She’s been as closed off to the truth as much as everyone else. “Good, babe. I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted. I know you think I didn’t like her, but that’s not true. I just wanted you to fall in love the right way, not with someone who isn’t available to you.”
I stare at her in silence, working to not respond, verbally or otherwise. Not willing to delve into this discussion or give her reason to believe my earlier words are untrue. Instead I offer her a tight smile before draining my coffee. “Gonna head out and see if I still have a job.”
Ma nods in understanding. “Steve’ll understand, he’s a good man.”
“We’ll soon see,” I breathe out, moving to plant a kiss on her forehead before leaving.
The garage is busy, bodies moving throughout the large shed, shouting to allow everyone to be heard above the noise of machinery. A few skeptical glances are thrown my way as I weave through the car bodies and equipment towards Steve’s office. It’s laughable how ridiculous men can be when it comes to gossip, no different than women. I have no doubt that most of Steve’s guys have been waiting for my arrival to see what will transpire.
His door is wide open, speaking into the receiver of the phone as he gestures for me to come in. I close the door behind me, leaning casually against the wood while I wait for him to finish on the phone.
His office is in purposeful disarray. Papers scattered across every available surface weighted down by random car parts. Grease smudged along phones, computer screens, invoices.
“You need an office girl,” I greet as he returns the receiver to its cradle.
“You offerin’?” he smiles and I laugh quietly, relieved that he hasn’t told me to fuck off.
“Reason you’re in here and not out there workin’?”
Rubbing a hand down my face I meet his eyes, forcing air out of my lungs. “Wasn’t sure you’d still want me here…” I trail off, and he stands to move away from the desk.
“Kiddo, what happened between you and Aubrey ain’t got nothin’ to do with me. Not gonna say I liked that you made a scene like you did, but knowin’ you for a long time, I know that only a great deal’a pain would make you act out that way.”
Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I nod at his words, not really sure what to say.
“Jake, I’ve been you, kiddo. Exactly where you’re standing, I’ve been there. I get that it’s a really shitty place to be. I waited fuckin’ years for Clarah to come to her senses. Aubrey’s another level of stubborn, that, and she don’t wanna disappoint Joseph. Kid could settle with Satan himself, and he’d be fine though, as long as his girl was happy. Sooner she realizes that, sooner she’ll come to her senses,” he comforts, squeezing my shoulder in assurance.
“Not sure there’s any coming back from this, Steve. In all honesty, I can’t stomach any more hope. Decided to accept what happened and start to piece my life back together. Grateful if I still have my job though?” I smile. It’s tight, no happiness filtering through the gesture.
Steve stares at me for a few seconds before nodding his head in disappointment. “I get it kiddo. Trust me, I fuckin’ get it. Job’s always here for you, you know that,” he finishes, pointing into the large garage, indicating I should get to it.
I offer a quick chin lift before moving from his office and heading towards one of the cars needing attention. Focusing all my energy on the task at hand and not the curious glances thrown my way or reading into Steve’s words. I can’t afford any further hope when it comes to Aubrey. That is the pure and honest truth. I hope she finds some form of happiness, somewhere, with David or not, I can’t let myself care. I don’t want her to be unhappy in life, regardless of what I told her. Aubrey being unhappy is not an outcome I want my world to understand. I’m afraid she’s convinced herself she’s not worthy of it, not the extent in which she can be anyway. But that’s no longer my problem. It’s no longer something that I can allow plaguing my heart and mind. Aubrey’s a grown woman, I have to respect her decision to take the path she wants in life, even if it is to the detriment of my happiness. And her own.