Soft Shock (27 page)

“You know,
everyone gets burned. You’re only hurting yourself by holding on to this anger.
That jackass who didn’t deserve you
ain’t
being hurt
by it. He’s off somewhere obliviously and happily still being a jackass I’m
thinking.”

“Ronnie. I paid
a psychic obscene amounts
of money to lie to me about
how I was going to get him back. My hair started falling out from the stress
for crying out loud. I got a ‘C’ that semester we broke up.”

Ronnie clutched
her chest and dragged in an exaggerated gasp of horror.

“Yeah, yeah.
That was my first and only C. Actually it was a C minus. Big deal for me.”

Ronnie shifted
on the floor and grinned.

“What?”

“I just
remember coming home early from work one day last semester, and you were so blind
to everything but Owen you didn’t notice me standing there at first. Owen was sitting
close to you on the couch and murmuring something to you that had you laughing
so hard you couldn’t breathe.” Ronnie smiled a lazy-drunk-smile and leaned back
on her hands. “Then you caught sight of me and slid away from him and started
acting like nothing was any big deal.”

Marci fiddled
with her greasy paper bag. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Before you saw
me, you looked happier, freer, than I’ve ever seen you look. I guess what I
can’t figure out is why you would willingly—recklessly—throw away
something that made you so friggin’ happy.”

“You just made
a whole lot of assumptions right there.”

“Okay. So
torture yourself and punish Owen for something neither of you can
control—for the sins of some long gone asshole.”

“That’s not
what I’m doing.”

“Oh? Then what
is it you think you’re doing?”

“These things
always fall apart in the end. I’m just saving us both the trouble.”
And myself one hell of
a
heartache
. I don’t even want to think about how hard he would be to get
over.
If it’s even possible to get over a guy like Owen
leaving you.

Ronnie
shrugged. “You know, usually you go your own way, go for what you want, and
everybody else be damned. This ex of yours musta done a serious number on you.”

“What makes you
think this isn’t exactly what I want?”

“I got eyes. I
was at the hospital every single time you were—when Jeremy tried to get
himself killed with alcohol, when my uncle tried to get himself killed with his
gambling addiction, and when Jeremy tried to go for the final prize a second
time with that damned car. And each time, watching you and Owen together was
like watching a story unfold. Beginning, middle, and heartbreaking end.”

“I’m hungry.
Time to eat.” Marci ripped open her bag and grabbed her fried chicken sandwich.

Chuckling to
herself, Ronnie opened her own bag and pulled out a paper plate with a huge
slice of pepperoni pizza on it. She murmured something that sounded
suspiciously like, “You know I’m right,” before shoving pizza in her mouth.

Marci took a
huge bite of her sandwich to avoid taking the conversation any further.

Chapter Thirty-One

Monday night,
after work and before heading over to Kristin’s place, Owen took a little
detour. It was a route he knew well but hadn’t traveled in a while. But after
she called him, shocking the hell out of him, he decided to suck it up and drop
by. It didn’t seem to him she’d said everything she wanted to say the other night.
He hoped she hadn’t anyway.

Not that he’d
ever been able to put Marci completely out of his mind, but after she called Thursday
night, she’d consumed his thoughts. He’d lied.
To her.
To himself.
To everybody.
Marci might not have been good for him, and maybe they weren’t on the same page
about a lot of things, but for better or worse, she was what he wanted.

He’d tried to
talk himself out of driving to her place, but it hadn’t worked. So there were a
lot of blank spots, and maybe a relationship with her wouldn’t ever work, but
he needed to at least have a real conversation with her about what he felt for
her. Face to face. He needed to know if her answer had changed.

This was their
last chance. Kristin was sending out save-the-date cards in a few days. In
fact, he and Kristin had gotten into it over those cards. She wanted to send
Marci one, and Owen had told her absolutely not. He knew Marci would have no
interest in coming to his wedding, and he knew Kristin was only trying to rub
it in her face. He wouldn’t allow that.

Soon, it would
be May, and the semester would be over. The wedding would be here before he
knew it. Unless.

Well, maybe he
was getting ahead of himself.
First things first.
He
needed to see her.
Talk to her.

He hadn’t
called to make sure she would be home first. That was too much of a commitment.
In fact, his first plan had been to simply drive by her building and see if her
car was parked in the lot across the street from it or on the street somewhere.
He spotted her car parked on the street in front of her building. He pulled
into a spot on the opposite side of the street, near the parking lot for her
building. He let the jeep idle and stared at her beemer. Was this really what
he wanted to do?

He leaned
forward until his forearms rested on the steering wheel and looked up at her
building. Maybe she really had just wanted to say goodbye to him Thursday night.
Maybe he was reading too much into the fact that she’d called him.

And if he was
so sure about what he really wanted, why hadn’t he broken things off with
Kristin before coming over? Maybe because he knew despite whatever fleeting
thought had made him drive over here, Kristin was the right choice for him. She
actually wanted to be a wife. They both wanted to start a family. He and Marci
had never discussed a family, but he was pretty sure if relationships were out
for her, kids definitely were.
Way too much of a commitment
for that one.

Marci didn’t
want to be what he needed. She never would. What was he doing here? She’d never
even said she loved him. She’d just asked if he loved her that night at the
hospital. No, her calling didn’t mean anything. He didn’t need to go reading
anything into it beyond what she’d said: goodbye. She’d been looking for
closure, and he needed to look for some of that, too. Things were done, closed,
shut off forever where Marci was concerned.

With a heavy
heart and a heavy sigh, Owen put the jeep in gear and drove away from the curb.

#

Wednesday afternoon,
Owen went over to Kristin’s place after his shift at the Java Time. He was
supposed to be helping her with names and addresses for his friends and family
for the save-the-date cards. He’d been working all the shifts he could get
lately. Between work and school, he barely had a free moment these days. He liked
it that way.
Less time to think.
To second-guess.
But he still had too much time on his hands, it seemed. Too much time to do
things like sit outside Marci’s apartment like a creeper and think about going
up to the door and asking to be buzzed in, asking to destroy the life he’d
always wanted and was so close to having.
A married life with
Kristin.

“Hey.” He
dropped his bike helmet onto the floor near the front door and hung his jacket
on the coat rack. He walked over to give her a kiss hello. “How’s it going with
the cards?”

“Good.” She
smiled up at him. “Almost done.” She wrinkled her nose. “We’re so behind. It’s
April, and we’re just now sending these out.”

Owen frowned
down at his student directory, which was across the table from Kristin and near
a small stack of addressed envelopes. “Where’d you get that?” He nodded at the
directory.

“Your
apartment.”

“Why do you
need it?” He’d forgotten he had that thing. If he didn’t get contact info
directly from people like he usually did, he used the online student directory.

“I had to…look
up Lil.” Kristin busied herself overtime with straightening a stack of
save-the-date cards.

“You could have
asked me for my password for the online one.” The online student directory was
password protected. “Or better yet, I could’ve given you Lil’s address.”

Kristin
shrugged. “You were at work. I didn’t want to bother you. It’s no big deal.”
She was awfully eager to supply reasons for someone who normally reminded him
that she didn’t have to answer to him.

Owen frowned slightly
and nodded. “Oh. Okay.” Whatever. He was tired, and every inch of him smelled
like coffee. “I need a shower.”

“You know where
to find the towels,” she said. “Anybody else you want me to add to the list?”
she asked as he started down the hall toward the bathroom. “Last call.”

“Nope,” he
called over his shoulder. His suspiciousness of Kristin’s behavior tugged at
the back of his mind, but his desire for a shower and a nap was winning out
over all else at the moment. He might have gotten twenty hours of sleep total
since last Tuesday night—just over a week ago. There was a chance he was
pushing himself too hard, but it was either that or…well, he didn’t dare think
of the alternative.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Marci didn’t
like the look of the envelope from the moment she pulled the bundle of mail out
of the box. The blue inked handwriting was too fancy—some sort of
calligraphy. And the thick paper of the envelope seemed expensive. She turned
the envelope over in her hand, and her stomach dropped. What were Kristin’s
name and some New York address doing on the back flap of the envelope? This
couldn’t be good.

She tore open
the envelope so savagely she sliced her finger on a sharp edge of fancy
envelope paper, but she barely noticed. When she pulled out the silver and
white card, she dropped all the other mail. It was a save-the-date card.
Kristin’s name followed by Owen’s.
A picture of their two
pretty faces above the names only added to the taunting. Kristin. Owen.
Kristin. Owen. Save the date. September twenty-third. Kristin. Owen. Owen.
Owen. She tried to swallow over the lump in her throat.

“Are you okay?”

She looked up
at the sound of a voice. One of her neighbors presumably who she didn’t
recognize stood a few feet away. He probably wanted to get into his mailbox.
Bobbing her head up and down, nodding a yes, she bent and grabbed the rest of
the mail from the floor. She fled upstairs.

By the time she
got upstairs, fumbled with the key until she was nearly in tears with
frustration before she could get it to turn in the lock, and finally opened her
front door, her chest was heaving.

“What’s wrong?”
asked Ronnie from somewhere in the living room. She recognized Ronnie’s voice
but held her eyes shut.

What was wrong
with her? She
did not
cry over boys. Disposable
boys. Slamming the front door shut, she clutched that day’s mail to her chest.

“Marci. Talk to
me. I’m starting to get worried.”

But she
couldn’t talk. If she tried, some awful wailing sound would come out of her
that wasn’t a sound she wanted to hear herself make. Instead, she willed her
eyes open and stalked across the room. Thrusting the save-the-date card at
Ronnie, she threw the rest of the mail onto the coffee table and collapsed onto
the couch where she proceeded to turn on her side and hug her knees to her
chest.

“Oh no,” Ronnie
murmured. She had to be reading the card, but Marci wouldn’t look over at her
to confirm this.

Marci
concentrated very carefully on breathing, trying not to give in to the sobs
building in her chest. She heard movement behind her, and then Ronnie came into
her field of vision. Marci followed Ronnie with her eyes as Ronnie knelt in
front of her and rested her chin on the arm of the couch. Thankfully, that
infernal card was nowhere to be seen.

Ronnie took one
of Marci’s hands with both of her own. Marci didn’t pull away but didn’t
squeeze the hand either. “Why would he send you this?”

“Damned if I
know and damned if I care,” Marci muttered.

“Oh. Baby girl.
You care,” Ronnie said in that cut-the-shit way of hers.

Marci felt the
first of the tears leaking out as she stared at Ronnie in front of her. Ronnie
reached over and gave Marci a hug at an awkward angle from where she knelt next
to the couch. Marci scooted back on the couch, and Ronnie climbed over the arm
and sat next to her. Ronnie gave Marci a better hug now that she was sitting
next to her, and they sat like that for a long time.

When Marci had
gotten all of that stupid weakness out of her system, she said, “I’ve cried more
in the past few months than in…maybe…five years.”

“It’s good for
you.” Ronnie patted her shoulder.

“I’m in love
with him,” Marci said quietly.

Ronnie pulled
back and looked Marci in the eye. Ronnie’s own brown eyes were as big and round
as saucers. “It’s a friggin’ miracle.”

“Okay, so you
and Tyler got there first. And maybe it was—is—the last thing I
want to admit. But whether I own up to it or not, it’s going to be there. So I
give up. This—that—whoever sent it. It made this real for me. Made
me see…I mean. I even tried to…”
Call him
.
“I love him, okay? I’m in love with him. I miss him like crazy. It burns me up
to think of him with her. I had him, and I threw it all away because I’m fucked
up. I act like I have it all together, I put on this cool front, but refusing
to deal with your emotions isn’t the same thing as truly having a cool
levelheadedness going for you.” The words tumbled over each other, falling out
of her mouth.

“Finally!”
Ronnie clapped her hands together. “I’ve been waiting too long for you to see
this.”

“What good is
it going to do me to realize it now?”

“Go for it.”

“Huh?”

“Go get your
man.”

“He just sent
me a save-the-date for his
wedding
.”

“Maybe that was
a last ditch effort to see if you really did care. Maybe he was hoping for the
very reaction you just had.”

Marci considered
this for a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t think so. Owen doesn’t play
games like that. Besides, Kristin is his ‘one great love’ or something. He has it
bad for that girl. I can tell. I could always tell.”

“He has it bad
for
you
.”

“No. He’s
happy. I’m not going to try to come between them. Owen and Kristin have a
history, and she’s perfect for him. They dated for years before she broke up
with him. And now he has what he wants. He has her back.”

“But you’re the
one he’s in love with.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why’d you call
things off with him in the first place?” Ronnie crossed her arms over her
chest.

“Because…he
told me he loved me,” Marci admitted reluctantly.

“Uh-huh. Yep.
That’s what I thought.”

“Even if I
could get him back, I’d find a way to screw it up. That’s why I don’t bother
with relationships. They never work out. It’s better this way.”

“Owen should
have a say in this.”

“He’s made his
choice.”

“You didn’t
give him much of one. And you know, Jeremy says Owen seems kind of miserable
these days.”

Marci thought
of what Dante had said in the bar that night about Owen never seeming to be in
a good mood since he got back together with Kristin. “Really?”
That kind of wishful thinking ruins lives,
girl. Remember what happened last time. Back when you almost lost your damned
mind.
“No,” she said. “I refuse to believe it. I believe that save-the-date
card I got.”

Ronnie shook
her head. “You ever think that maybe Kristin is second best? The best he thinks
he can do because he thinks he can’t have you.”

“He chose
Kristin first.”

“Doesn’t
count,” Ronnie said. “When he chose Kristin the first time, he didn’t even know
you existed. When he chose her the second time, it was after you rejected him.”

“I didn’t
reject him.”

“Oh really?
What do you call it then?”

Marci tucked
her feet under her on the couch and folded her hands together. Staring at her
hands, she said, “What exactly does Jeremy say about Owen?”

 
“That he hardly ever smiles. And you and
I don’t know an Owen who doesn’t keep a smile on his face, now do we? Apparently,
he snaps at people a lot more than he used to. He’s still polite most of the
time, but isn’t very friendly. Can you imagine Owen not being friendly?” Ronnie
sounded
all smug
like she knew she was right.

Marci tried to
tell herself that it was over, that she’d killed her chances with Owen. Still,
she couldn’t deny that Ronnie’s words had planted a seed.