Page 16 of When There Was You
“I’m sorry, Jax,” he finally says. “For what it’s worth, Remy is too.”
My sarcastic bark rings hollow. “What bullshit.”
Mick sighs. “I don’t know what to say. I can barely wrap my head around all this.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I spit. “Be hurt? Incensed? Blindsided? Bewildered?”
“Christ. You should feel whatever you need to. But don’t take this out on me.”
“You know, Mick, right now you aren’t exactly topping my list of concerns. If that makes me a selfish bitch, then so be it. You want to know how I feel? After months of waiting—worrying—Remy comes out of rehab without a care in theworld and a new fiancée. The two best pals are together again, while Jacqui, the whore, is cast aside as if she never mattered.”
“That’s…” There’s a thud. Did he punch a wall? “Although some of that may be true,” he grits out, “you know damn well neither of us think of you that way. We fucking loved you. I still love you. Donotcheapen what we have with that dramatic bullshit.”
His words hit like a slap, but the roar in my ears deafens everything. They don’t penetrate. And nothing he says will change how much this burns.
“I have to go,” I manage.
“Goddamn it! Don’t fucking do this.”
But I do.
Through blinding tears, I replace the receiver. My breath sputters and stalls, and my thoughts rage, deluging me like a summer squall.
My roommates findme on the floor, curled against the wall, hiccuping after running out of tears. I never knew a body could stop manufacturing them, but at some point, the torrent stopped, leaving my skin raw, chapped, and tender to the touch after repeatedly squeegeeing my face with my fingers.
Jas and Kit pull me into their arms and hold me, but I’m an empty, limp ghost of myself. Then they ply me with leftover pizza and boxed wine as they force me to relive that phone call.
Mick must be so pissed at me. And worried.
My sullen inner child doesn’t care.
That’s false…I’m just not ready to deal with it yet.
My roommates are sympathetic, asking questions and treading carefully. I’m grateful they’re not probing too deep. My head hurts. My heart’s been through a meat grinder. The unknowns loom.
“No more sandwiches,” I finally say, unsure how I’m managing to joke. I will miss those Mick and Remy sandwiches.
Kit offers a half-hearted smile. “It was good while it lasted though, right?”
I bite back more tears and nod. It really was. “The realist in me always knew it wouldn’t last forever. But I sure never predicted it ending this way.”
Jas’s head bobs. “I’m shocked—and I’m a reporter. I pride myself on being impossible to surprise, but damn if I ever saw this coming…not from Remy.”
The words from the past come tumbling back. Words shared just before I’d moved.
I love you, Rem, I’d said.
I fucking adore you,he’d answered.
I believed it. Now, though…I can’t help wondering if Remy had been spewing poetic bullshit. If anything he’d said was honest. How the fuck can he treat me like this? Cast me aside without even a conversation? It doesn’t make sense unless he never cared about me in the first place. But that doesn’t ring true either. Damn it, I’mnotfeeling sorry for him. I’ll walk on glass shards over a bed of fire before that happens.
“You and Mick are still good, right?” Jas asks.
My tear ducts reactivate. “I behaved like a total asshole.”
