I’m lying in a heap on the bed, numb from endless sobbing and wracking pain. I don’t know how long
I’ve been lying listening to my own blood rush through my head as my heart self-implodes inside my
body. I’m nothing but a shell, a quiet empty shell of exhaustion and heartache, rumpled beyond
recognition.
I lashed out, hit at him, and shoved him away with every ounce of strength I possessed, yet still he tried
to cling to me.
My Jake, my body, and soul. Now the destroyer of everything that I was.
I told him not to touch me, to never touch me again, to leave, and to go away. I screamed and cried and
fell to pieces on the floor at his feet. His words tumbling around me like noise that I couldn’t
understand, so consumed by my grief. It’s only when I whimpered and begged that he leave me alone
he finally listened; moving away so I could find my way to my feet, running into the solitude of this room
… our room. His room. Shutting him out and locking him away. I can’t bare for him to be near me, to
touch me, or look at me anymore.
What we are is lost; his betrayal sealed our fate and my world has been ripped apart with such
devastation. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again. All I can think about, is his mouth against hers,
over and over, and it rips through my heart. Kissing the mouth of the one woman in the world I hate
beyond compare. He has no clue of the depth and damage cheating with her has done. He has no idea
how deep his betrayal has wounded me.
He kissed someone else. Not just anyone else, but her, the object of all my hatred and pain for the last
few months.
The woman who possessed his heart once upon a time, the only other woman who has been loved by
him, and now carries his child.
Marissa Hartley.
How can I ever get beyond this or believe that his feelings for her are as clear cut as I thought?
Her name is like a dagger in my chest, a wound so unbearable burning and searing, making sure I
never recover from the fatal blow.
Why, Jake? … Why? Because you were so sure of my readiness to betray you? Fueled by insecurity
because of my refusal to start a home with you or answer your proposal?
Fueled by my stupidity in making you believe I would betray you so readily over a fight.
Were we so fragile that something this stupid has ripped us in two?
There’s a light chap on the door, my breath halts, and my pulse stops. His closeness still affecting me,
even at a distance, my body feels him in the air and trembles.
“Emma?” Jake’s voice, hoarse and raw, causes a sharp pain in my chest. I slide onto my side to blot
him out, covering my ears, curling into a ball with a fresh wave of unbearable aching inside of me, silent
tears pouring down my face. I just want this pain to stop devouring me.
“Emma, please? … Let me in.” He pleads, his voice as far away from my Jake as it could possibly be,
different to how he normally sounds, crushing my soul. I’m so far away from myself, I fear I’ll never find
my way back. I close my eyes tight, screwing them hard, willing him to leave. My voice wouldn’t come
even if I wanted it to. It’s so raw and painful making it too hard to swallow, aftereffects from the wailing
of a desperate woman.
There’s a gentle thud against the door, it creaks with the pressure of human weight, a noise of
something heavy and soft sliding down the other side slowly.
“I’m not going anywhere, neonata. I’m staying right here until you let me see you. I need to see you,
Emma … I’m going insane out here.” The sadness in his tone makes me ache. He sounds as broken
as I feel. His normally low husky tone is strained and hoarse; emotion breaking with every agonizing
word.
He left me until I became quiet, but I can’t lock him out forever. This is his apartment … his home. Not
mine anymore. I need to get up, take everything I own, and leave him; he’s left me no choice but to go.
There’s nothing here for us anymore.
Fresh waves of devastation hit me, causing me to break the silence with a sob. I can’t begin to think
about leaving him, not yet, not while my body wants to lie here and die. The pain is so all
encompassing I can barely breathe.
“Please … Please, bambino. It’s killing me staying out here listening to you cry. Let me in. Let me hold
you.” His voice breaks; the pain too much. I can imagine him slumped against the door, his knees up,
and arms around his shoulders, maybe cradling his head, as broken and as crumpled as me. I try to
shake the image of him from my mind, tears consuming me; the thought hurts me more than I can
imagine. I can’t bear for him to be as broken as me, to be aching in agony outside his own door.
I’m drowning in confusion. I can’t endure the pain of letting him close. The thought of his touch brings
the flash of a vision into my head of him and her, him touching her, his focus on her eyes, kissing her. It
slices through me like a hot poker and tortures me to my core.
What has he done to us?
“I … I … I can’t.” I breathe out through tears, unsure if I’m even loud enough for him to hear me. My
voice is weak and fragile, a ghost of the normal tone I usually possess.
“Emma, I won’t touch you. I swear. I’ll keep my distance. I just need to see you … look at you.” He
begs. He shifts toward the door to strain for my response and it shatters me all the more.
I don’t like him this way. He’s my strong, domineering Carrero, always so sure and infuriatingly
confident, in control of everything.
I can’t bear this sad quiet version of him, begging me, sitting slumped outside, and seeking permission
to enter a room in his own apartment.
This is not Jake. I want my Jake back. I want the Jake from a week ago, the one who never betrayed
me and left me this way. The Jake who would move mountains to protect me; not this man sitting out
there who is so far removed from the one I thought I knew.
“I can’t. I can’t get up.” it’s true, I don’t have the strength to walk to the door. My body’s broken. I cry
quietly, tears falling freely beyond my control. I can barely lift my head, so drained of life I am beyond
the point of moving. Fatigue is wracking every limb with emotional exhaustion. I don’t know what time it
is, but it feels like I’ve been here for days.
“Just tell me I can open the door and I will,” his voice is strained, he’s waiting and hoping I won’t hold
him out while still seeking my permission.
I can’t keep him out, as much as I desperately want to, he’s the one causing me paralyzing agony but
is also the only person in the world who has a hope in hell of helping me. That’s my torture. My healer
is also my tormentor. When all I can feel is devastation, my heart aches calling out for the one person
who always grounds me and makes me feel secure.
“It’s your house,” I crumble, not making the decision for him. I flinch moments later, clenching my body
in surprise, as he kicks the door open with effortless force. The wood splintering and metal sheering
violently; light flooding from the other room, showing his strong masculine figure silhouetted in the
frame.
I curl into myself tighter, as I did when I was a child, covering my face with my arms, instinctively
defending my body. The pain of him being near me is more excruciating than anything I’ve ever
endured before. I hear him moving closer, the bed dips as he slides on, keeping his distance. He sighs
heavily. I can feel every ounce of strong energy radiating from him, despairing and remorseful energy,
surging with as much heartache as me.
“I love you, baby … I can fix this. I want to fix this. I want you so badly that this … What I’ve done … It’s
killing me. It’s ripping me apart that I’ve hurt you, that I’ve lost you.” His voice aches and trembles and
the urge to turn and wrap myself into his safe arms overwhelms me, but the relief I desperately desire I
know I won’t find. His touch will only cause more devastation to my heart.
Marissa, with her nasty snarl and wicked eyes is running through my head smirking at me; cackling at
me. I can almost sense her satisfaction coursing through me. She’s won. She’s taken him from me in
the worst way.
“I don’t know if I can come back from this … I need time to breathe, time to think,” I whisper, afraid that
saying it louder will be more crushing to my soul.
“I don’t want you to leave.” He croaks, as he tries to see my face in the gloom of the dim light, leaning
closer so I can feel his body heat hovering over mine. He’s caging me in without touching, and I hold
my breath.
“I can’t stay.” I curl up tighter, hiding what I am from the man I loved most in the world; the one person
who changed everything in my life for the better and yet destroyed it all in the same gentle stroke.
“I’ll do anything, whatever you ask, Emma … Just please, don’t leave me,” his voice is softer, almost
breathless. He sniffs, and I know he has tears on his cheek. It kills me inside, despite what he’s done, I
don’t want him to be hurting. I’ve never seen Jake cry over anything before this and I don’t want to see
it now, I can’t bare it.
“I need to go. I need time away from you … It hurts too much having you near me. I don’t know if I can
forgive you while everything is so raw and fresh. I need space and time to think.” My words are empty,
as though from another person. I wish I had conviction in my request but I just sound pathetic and
small, like I’m asking for his permission to go.
He takes a sharp breath, trying to fight the internal battle threatening to consume him, trying to keep it
all in but I can hear it in every noise he makes. His regret is the only thing keeping me sane right now,
his obvious pain at what he’s done to us is the only balm in this horrible train wreck that was once our
relationship. The only thing keeping my anger at bay.
He stays silent, the bed moves as he clenches the sheets, his hands trawling in desperation at
whatever his inner dialog is saying to him. Jake in turmoil is devastating on my soul.
“I’ll have Jefferson take you back to Queens whenever you want to go.” He breaths the words as
though I just stabbed him through the heart with a dagger.
If I have then I’ve also turned it on myself and now I’m bleeding to death.
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