Lost in Us (12 page)

"Yeah…"

"Excellent," I say and make a step forward toward his room.

"What? No, that's not a good idea." 

I raise an eyebrow. "I assure you I can stomach whatever is inside," I say and try to walk past him, thinking that nothing can beat the things I've seen over the years in Jess's room following one of her wild nights out.

To my astonishment, Parker steps in front of me. "Are you serious?" I ask.

"Now is not a good time, Serena. You… maybe you should leave and I'll tell James to call you later." There's no stutter in his voice anymore, and an uneasy feeling is starting to form inside me.

"Why?" I raise my head, trying to look in his eyes for the first time, but now he avoids mine. "Parker?"

“He's not alone," he says in a defeated voice.

There is no air in my lungs. Someone sucked every wisp of it, leaving an unbearable heaviness in my chest. It's a stranger's voice that whispers, "Don't tell him I was here." I swirl on my heels in the direction of the door, determined to get past it before the burning heat behind my eyelids turns to tears. 

I'm halfway to the door when the only thing that could make this even more painful happens.

"Parker, are you up?" James calls.

I measure the distance to the door and know I can't make it without him seeing me. So I hide the cups behind my back, grit my teeth and turn around, hoping the pain has numbed me already.

It hasn't.

A thousand blades rip through me at the sight of his beautiful face, now contorted in astonishment. At his side, her red hair wild on the shoulders of an overlarge, baggy T-shirt belonging to James, contrasting with his polished, work-ready appearance, is Sophie.

My first thought is that I'm glad it's not the lark. My second is that I want to disappear from the face of the earth forever.

"Parker, you little devil," she says, "I don't remember seeing your lovely friend here last night."

"I've got my tricks," Parker says and winks.

“I’m Sophie.” She waves, giggling.

      
It takes me a second to realize what's going on. She doesn't remember me. Small
wonder, given the drunken state she was in when we met. The tiniest bit of relief springs in my heart that this will be a bit less humiliating, even though not less painful. I'll be eternally grateful to Parker for playing it up.

"James, you don't mind if I join you in the office a bit later?" he says, putting one arm on my shoulders. "I promised breakfast."

"Don't be a prick, James," Sophie says when James doesn't answer. "Let the two of them go." When he still doesn't answer, she raises her eyebrows and adds, "I'm taking a shower," then disappears from the living room.

"Can you give us a moment, Parker?" His voice carves raw wounds inside me.

"That's not necessary," I say, finally lowering my arms from their twisted position at my back. James's gaze freezes on the coffee cups. "No, Parker—" I plead.

"You two need to talk, Serena," he says firmly and then walks out the front door.

"I didn't know you were coming," James says, still staring at the coffee cups.

"That's obvious," I answer sardonically. "I wanted to surprise you. But you beat me to it."

"I—"

"No, you know what? Don't say anything. I'm going to leave now and for the sake of my own sanity, pretend I never met you."

"You want to stop seeing me?" he says, shell-shock contouring on every pore of his face.

"No. I want to stick around and find a new bitch in your bed every morning." I don't know when my pain transformed into anger, but I welcome the change. Being angry is so much better than being in pain.

"I never meant for you to walk in and witness something like this, but Serena," he says in a low voice, walking toward me, "I was honest with you from the beginning…"

"I know. But seeing you with other women…" I pause to find the word that would sound least dramatic, "…bothers me." I make a go for the door but he puts an arm around my waist.

"You didn't seem too happy yesterday when you thought I was going out with someone," I say angrily.

"Don't go," he pleads in my ear. "We can find an arrangement that works for you. I don't want to stop seeing you. I don't."

His lips are so close to me now, his blue eyes peering into mine. I think I see somewhere behind their infinite blue the same desperation that churns inside me. I was right, it was fake. All of it. Yet as I stand here, one word away from shattering altogether, I can't help asking for one last chance to make it real.

"I doubt we can, unless that arrangement includes you not seeing anyone but me."

He doesn't need any words to shatter me. The stone silence and the sudden coldness in his eyes do the same cruel job.

Still, I keep hoping, I keep waiting.

But they don't come. The only words that would keep me from leaving. He doesn't object when I remove his hand from my waist and walk past him. He doesn't come after me when I put the coffee cups on the table besides the entrance and open the front door.

So I walk out, without a word or a look back.

P
arker unhitches himself from the wall when he sees me. "That didn't go too well, huh?"

"I just want to get out of here," I whisper, and run toward the elevator, fighting hard to hold back my tears. To my relief, the doors open the second I press the button and I slide in. So does Parker.

"I meant what I said about that breakfast."

"No offense, but I want to be alone right now."

"You don't look like you should be on your own," he says softly.

"Parker, please… I…" A sob escapes my lips and I look away from him.

"Fine, I'll drive you home."

"But—"

"No argument accepted. Give me your car keys." I hesitate for a second, then retrieve the keys from my purse and hand them to him, because I don't feel capable of driving. I barely have enough energy to keep from bursting into tears.

"How will you come back?" I ask once we're in the Prius.

"Cab. Can you enter your address in the navigation system?” he says, pointing at the navigation system.

"Sure." I enter the address, then lean back, staring out the window as the car starts moving.

"He's not a bad person, you know."

"Don't start defending him."

"I'm not. I just want you to know that—"

"I don't get why he bothered getting involved with me at all," I spit. "He has an army of…
women
… who happily climb in his bed at the snap of his fingers. He didn't need one more meaningless name to that list."

"You were anything but meaningless, Serena," Parker says.

I turn to him furiously. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

He looks at me shortly then focuses on the road again. "The way he talks about you… he admires you."

I snort.

"I mean it. He thinks you're smart and—"

"Are you making this stuff up?" I ask, the muscles of my neck quivering violently. I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror and discover there are no tears on my cheeks. Something about acute anger seems to be keeping them back.  

"I'm not. He went on and on about your hospital thing last night."

"It didn't keep him from jumping in bed with Sophie."

This earns me a few minutes of silence. I don't want to know any of this. What he said or what he thinks. What purpose will it serve except making it that much harder to piece myself together again?

"James went through some rough stuff a few years ago."

And I finally do snap. "Everyone does, Parker. That's life. And honestly, his high school girlfriend leaving him isn't the roughest stuff."

Parker turns white. This time the silence lasts longer. We park the car in front of my block and wait for his cab when he says quietly, "Lara didn't leave him; she died. On our graduation day."

A sudden coldness chills my insides, and a lump in my throat makes breathing a chore. I gape at Parker in shock but he doesn't say one more word. His cab arrives and before sliding in it he mutters a quick, "See you," that I don't manage to return. 

I
don't find the solitude I was hoping for when I enter the apartment. Jess is on the phone, pacing like mad between the couch and the kitchen, speaking in a very formal tone. Her interview, of course. Jess stops dead in her tracks at the sight of me and raises her shoulders questioningly. I shake my head and walk directly to my room, where I finally find silence.

Where I'm finally alone.

One tear rolls down my cheek. I don't bother to brush it away. More will come anyway. I slide down the door, biting my arm to stop the sobs from escaping because I don't want Jess to hear me. The anger's gone and I miss it so. It was invigorating and satisfying, fulfilling even. The pain isn't. It's raw and devastating.

Unbearable.

And at the end of anger lies nothing but pain.

A thousand tears fall on my blue dress—shreds of my shattering heart. They fall for him and for me; for all the kisses and the words we had. They fall harder for all those we will never have again. I hug my knees, and dig my nails deep into my ankles. To no avail. The shudders don't stop. The gasping breaths keep choking me. How can this hurt so much?

A scratching, muffled sound resonates from somewhere and I think that that's it; I finally cracked and am hallucinating, then realize it's my cell phone vibrating. I search for it in my bag, praying it's not one of the HR schmucks who received my résumé last week, calling to schedule an interview. I have a hard enough time making a good impression when I'm at my best. I glance at the screen through the blinding tears and almost wish it was an HR schmuck.

It's the source of my misery. For a fraction of a second, I actually contemplate answering, because no matter what, I'd get angry, and maybe, just maybe, the stinging torture in my chest would go away. But then I throw the darned thing on my bed, as James's words echo in my head and I sink to a whole new depth of agony.
"The pain will never really go away."
How well he knew that. Yet as I lay there, wrapped in his arms, for a blissful moment, it did. For once, the thought of Kate brought a smile, not just regret and despair. I wonder if he was thinking of his blue-eyed angel. He probably was.

The cell stops vibrating and starts again the next second. I clutch my knees tighter and rest my chin on them, wiping away my tears. I never want to see him or hear his voice again: the man with the power to mend my deepest wounds. And slash open so many others.

Fresh, burning tears form behind my eyelids and I smile sadly as the cruelest realization of all hits.

I'm in love with him.

"
Y
ou've been up all night again," Jess accuses, hopping through the stacks of paper and clothes lying on the floor. I'm sitting upright in my bed, holding on to my laptop for dear life.