Page 110 of Fly Back to Me
A few months ago, I would’ve felt my insides coil with hers. Her pain was always my pain, our feelings always falling in step with one another. But as I look at her now, we’re the opposite sides of a coin.
My fingers press into the white rag between the counter and my palm, proceeding to wipe the surface. Her head lifts in my periphery, but I continue my task as she speaks. “I know ‘sorry’ doesn’t suffice. I know when people say the very thing I’m about to say, it sounds disingenuous. But the truth is, Ineverwanted to hurt you, Cade. Youhaveto believe that.”
I lift my chin, pinning my gaze to the strain in her blue eyes. “You’re right. It does sound disingenuous. In the back of your mind, you always knew the destruction you’d cause, Jenna, butit didn’t matter to you.”
“It did matter,” she asserts.
“It didn’t matter enough,” I dismiss.
She licks her lips as she shies her eyes away, fingers lifting to flick a few stray strands from her eye. “It felt like something was missing. I don’t know,” she breathes, her voice croaking on the last couple words. “Maybe I was too allured by the new working environment. Maybe I just don’t understand myself very well or what I want.”
I ingest a breath, wiping a hand down my mouth to gather myself. “I never wanted to believe it, you know?” My response finally pulls her attention in my direction. “I was onto you for a while after our relationship started to hit a rut, and even after small pieces of validation, I still couldn’t pull the plug on us. Maybe because I wanted to be completely sure, or maybe because I was in denial.” I plant a palm on my chest, leaning my head forward as my voice lowers. “That’s howin lovewith you I was. Deep in my heart, I knew you were being unfaithful, Jenna. I knew you like the back of my damn hand. Iknewit. But my heart just couldn’t let go of you.”
Her face twists with discomfort, chin dipping as she fidgets with her hands at her waist. “I’m still in love with you,” she squeaks between sniffles. “It was so incredibly stupid. I made the biggest mistake of my life.”
I swallow as I watch Jenna crumble under the amber lighting of the brewery. Her glazed eyes never produce actual tears, but they’re stabbing at her lenses as her chest pumps through jagged breaths.
The longer I look at her under this dim spotlight, the more I realize just how dull our love was, and that she’s not the woman for me. Ever since we broke up, I wondered what I would do if Jenna came crawling back. Would I sweep her up and take us back to live our lives together? Or would I reject her in pureanger?
But it’s neither of those things that I desire.
Because there isn’t a part of my heart that Jenna owns anymore. She doesn’t yank any passion out of me the way someone else does.
Oliviais the reason Jenna isn’t the one for me. Jenna may have fit in and complemented my life, but Oliviashapedit.
She knew my worth before I did and sailed it back to me on those damn wings. Someone who leaps at the chance to challenge me, consequences be damned. Someone who rescued me from a life of mediocrity, which is the life I would live if I forgave Jenna.
I used to crave an answer from Jenna, but her reaction tells me everything I need to know. If Jenna had pointed out exactly what I did to turn her head, I could consider that she truly regrets sleeping with someone else. But her cliché response tells me she cares more about seeking my forgiveness than owning her fault. She wants to erase her guilty conscience, and as much as I used to want her to feel every scrap of remorse her actions could leave her with, I just don’t care anymore.
I don’t care.
It’s fucking liberating.
“There’s nothing to cry about, Jenna,” I say softly.
“How can you say that?” She returns her eyes to me, arms timidly crossed over her chest, her cheeks flushed.
“Because I wasn’t the person for you.”
“That’s not true,” she whispers.
“Yes, it is,” I answer. “Because if I was, we wouldn’t be standing here having this discussion.”
Her lips fold as she pivots to the side. “Have you met someone?”
I nod, eyes cemented to her side profile. “Yes.”
A tautness reaches her face. “So, that’s why you’re being socold.”
Now, there’s a lot, and I meana lot, I could say over this ridiculously hypocritical and inaccurate statement. Only, there’s nothing left to banter about. There’s nothing left for us to bounce back from.
Those days are tucked away for good.
Jenna battles a gulp, closing the couple inches to the bar top. “Do you still think about me at least?” she whispers. “Don’t you still think about how good things used to be between us?”
I inhale sharply when the pads of her fingers graze my hand, the familiarity stunning me in place. My eyes bolt to the glossy wood of the counter, my rationale diminishing as her thumb strokes my skin.
I’ve longed for affection like this the last leg of our relationship, yearning for just one more piece of it before we hammered the nail in the coffin. That one sliver of warmth that might save us from the brutality of it all.
