Page 128 of Don't Leave Me

“Like I said before, I’d still like to be friends. You are very special to me, Hana, and I’d hate for you to not be in my life at all,” he said gently, looking up at me with his wide blue dough eyes.

I felt like sobbing. “Of course,” I nodded, my heart racing;it’s the very least I could do, if that’s what he wants.

“I’ve texted you a few times. No wonder you haven’t answered,” he gave me a crooked smile, almost looking ashamed.

Oh god, do I tell him?

“Honestly, Michael really doesn’t want us talking. But I mean, it might be easier for us to talk through um…Instagram or something,” I shrugged.Oh my god, what am I doing? I’m trying to be friends with another man that I had a sexual relationship with behind my fiance’s back.

“I can understand that. I wouldn’t want you talking to Michael if you were mine,” he said quietly, almost seductively.

Another tug at my heart.

“What’s your Instagram?” he asked, pulling out his phone from his jeans pocket.

I spelled it out for him.

I felt my phone buzz on the seat beside me: I had missed a text from Michael, and then the notificationJack Maynor started following youon Instagram popped up.

I looked up as he flashed his dimples at me.

God, this is such a bad idea. Why am I doing this? Do I really owe him my friendship just because I broke his heart? Am I really going to be friends with him behind Michael’s back? No good can come from this.

“Anyway, I have a therapy appointment that I should be heading to,” Jack interrupted my thoughts, playing with his empty coffee cup in his hands.

“Oh, okay,” I nodded at him, still lost in my thoughts.

“Perhaps we can meet for a cup of tea soon,” he glanced down at my mug, then back up to me.

“Yeah, definitely,” I responded quickly, almost too eagerly.

God, I really did want to please everyone, didn’t I?

Jack sighed, still plastered to his seat. “It’s been really great to see you, Hana,” he said gently, his eyes softly gazing at me.

I gulped. “It has,” I agreed with him, looking down at his arms again.

“I’ll talk to you soon then,” he finally got up from his seat.

I automatically stood up, my manners happening without me even thinking as I started to say goodbye. Jack seemed happy that I stood in front of him, literally only inches away from him now. I could smell the cologne he had on and could almost feel the heat from his body radiating.Why must I think of his body radiating? Why can’t I think like a normal person?

“I’ll see you soon,” I smiled at him politely.

I should not have reached for a hug, but I did anyway.Jack knows that we can only be friends, and friends hug each other. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that we would be secretly communicating.Now he knows that I have some sort of secret, special relationship with him. Jack reciprocated the hug, holding on for a few moments before letting go.

“Bye, Han,” he nodded, politely smiling back at me, and then quickly headed for the door.

I watched as he grabbed his coat off a rack and disappeared into the busy New York street. I sat down feeling defeated and ashamed of myself. I read the text that Michael sent to me:I’d like that kiss. Meet me at the usual spot in Battery Park in about 20?I quickly grabbed my coat and headed for the J train downtown.

* * *

There were benches that lined the Hudson river in Battery Park and Michael and I had a usual bench near the fountain that we met up at. I had a quick 20 minutes to mull over how stupidly I had behaved with Jack, but tried to bury that deep in my mind as I carefully hurried towards Battery Park, the text from Michael over 30 minutes ago. Snow still stuck to the ground and I glanced up from the icy sidewalk as I approached the familiar figure of my gorgeous fiance. He had his long black peacoat on, black rolled up jeans and his faux leather brown boots. Of course, he had shades on to hide the glaring sun on the unusually sunny day. If I had never seen him before, I definitely would have stared at him and gawked at how gorgeous he was. In fact, I knew him very well and I still stared and gawked at him.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted me, reaching for my hand.

“Hi, I’m sorry I’m late. Stupid J train,” I shook my head and then reached my arms around him.

Great, I’m officially lying to him.

---