Page 9 of Four Simple Rules
“What?” I hiss between my teeth, returning to the land of the living. "Jared, we’ve been together for a year.” I’m grasping for anything here. Anything! “You... You came to my apartment last night, and we…we…”
We screwed! Like rabbits! All night, too. I barely remembered my name when I woke up wrapped in his arms. My vagina still hurts; it probably has his name tattooed on the walls.Jared was here. Well, time to erase that.
Jared stops stuffing his face for one second and shrugs. He just shrugs with indifference like he’s not breaking my heart into a million pieces.
Do not cry. Don’t give this jerk the satisfaction. He can’t know how much this relationship meant to me. How much he meant to me.
“You’re too consumed with your work, Blake. And me? I’m just not made for a relationship. I gave it the old college try, but it’s not for me.”
Not for him? How? Why? My lips flap like a fish gasping for air as my brain slowly digests his words.
I slump in my seat. Heat forms behind my eyes. My job with my plants? They are my happy place. The greenhouse is my first love. Always has been.
My beloved plants would never leave me sobbing into my steak fries. Looks like they're the only ones I can depend on now.
I wish I could say I stood up, poured his beer down the front of his pants, found a new man at the bar, and moved on with my life. But that didn’t happen. Not by a long shot.
“So, you’re breaking up with me?” I whisper, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks.
If I had known this was a breakup dinner, not a celebration, I wouldn’t have put on a stupid dress or worn ridiculous heels. I loathe heels with a passion, but Jared said they made my butt look good. And I wanted my rear to look as appealing as possible to the man I thought was in this for the long term.
Jokes on me.
“Yeah, babe. I’m sorry it has to end up like this, but we’re twenty-eight now. I think it’s time for me to move on. Start over. Be single. Maybe focus on my law practice a little bit more.” He shrugs again because that’s all he’s capable of doing. “I think it’ll be good for you.”
Good for me? This? How? What?
“Right,” I sputter in disbelief, staring off. “Start over.”
That’s the last thing I want to do is start over. I like myself. My quiet life. My job. I thought I loved my boyfriend. We had mostly good times. Never fought. We were going to move in with each other next month. God last night was a coming-to-Jesus moment in itself. Wait… Come to think of it, maybe that was his goodbye. Pound me into oblivion, leave a lasting memory, and dump me over dinner later. Jerk. He knew exactly what he was doing!
“You’ll be okay, Blake.” His words offer no reassurance.
None at all.
Jared kisses my cheek, plants a fifty on the table to pay for our meals and walks away without another word. Zilch. Nada. Just like that, he’s removed himself from the situation. A clean break, as some would say.
And me? I’m a gosh dang mess.
His words follow me back to my apartment, haunting my every move. As I float like a ghost through my front door, I sigh at the silence, clutching my mail and shuffling through it. Several pieces fall through my fingers when another postcard—this is number five—reminds me of my ten-year class reunion coming in just two short weeks—fat chance. There’s no way I want to spend any time with my classmates again. Nope. That won’t happen, especially if he’s going to be there. Or the mean girls. I want nothing to do with them.
I sigh, throwing it into the recycling, contemplating my entire life choices. Will I be, okay? Have I ever truly been, okay? No. Not since before my brother died, I haven’t been. He was my best friend. He and…that jerk I refuse to name.Jesse. Frick. There, I said it. His name. The boy who dismantled my entire life with four simple rules.
I shake my head, trying to erase him from my memories. It’s impossible, though. No matter how many years or how much distance I put between us, Jesse is ingrained in my soul. So thoroughly that there’s no getting rid of him. Ever.
No matter how much I tell myself, I can’t let our thick history weigh me down, the memories of our times together still leak through the protective walls I put up to ensure my sanity.
Ten years ago, when I walked away from Brighton and everyone residing there, I made a promise to myself. That I wouldn’t go back, and there would be absolutely no contact between Jesse and I. Heck, even my father. I wanted to forget all the bad things I left behind and look to the future.
It was the new and improved Blake Sarah Reynolds. Or... So, I thought.
My father barely said goodbye to me when I took off to my aunt’s house in Illinois to attend ISU. He barely mumbled congratulations when I finished college with honors and moved near St. Louis for my new job. He never stepped foot in my apartment when I packed up again and moved back to California after getting another offer for a better job with my research team.
And wouldn’t you guess it, he still hasn’t come to visit even though I’m ninety minutes away. And I know I could have made an effort and driven over for a visit. But why would I when he doesn’t offer me the same? It breaks my heart to know the man who helped bring me to life couldn’t give a crap less about my future and accomplishments.
Since I was thirteen, I haven’t existed to my father. So, why should I care anymore?
And Jesse. My heart hasn’t mended from the damage he inflicted. He was one giant red flag floating in the wind, and I happily wrapped myself in him with a grin until I realized my worth.
