Therapy (15 page)

“We need to talk about everything, Jess. I can’t leave with things like this.”

The look in his eyes matches his insistent tone.

His eyes are pleading with me.

“I feel like if I walk out that door, you’ll be gone again and I can’t have things left unsaid between us. Not this way—not again.” He crouches down beside my bed and sits on the floor. His head falls back to rest on my blanket only inches from my thigh. I don’t know what else there is to say. He knows it all now, except for the part his mother played in it. That bitch fabricated some story about me getting engaged. Just thinking about it makes me so mad; I want to drive back home and whip her Botoxed, high-heeled ass. Everything in me wants to scream out the truth about her, but she’s still his mother. There’s no reason to tell him what an evil bitch she really is. I’ve caused him enough heartache; I’m not going to add to it. He twists his head to the side, facing me, and I want to reach out and run my fingers through his soft hair. After all this time, he still takes my breath away.

“Why’d you do it, Jess? Why didn’t you want our baby? Was it because of me, because of what I said on the phone that day about school and my future? Did you do it because of how awful I was to you that day? “He shoots the questions off one after the other and in them I hear his heartbreak, how he’s beating himself up over a past that neither of us has the power to change. “I just don’t understand how you could go through with it. I know I was such an asshole, but I swear I would’ve never abandoned you or our child. I loved you and I would’ve loved our baby too.”

Every word he says wraps around my heart and squeezes it, ripping me apart. I don’t know what answers to give him because the truth is I was scared of ruining his life. He was so angry with me and all I could think about was how I could fix what I did. But that doesn’t make it his fault. I was the one who ultimately made the choice to do it, not him. The fault lies with me, no one else.

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. I made the decision. I did this.”

“But why, Jess? I thought you loved me too. How could you do that? Why would you run away and never look back? How is that loving someone?” he asks, every word tearing off another layer of my resolve.

“I just don’t know how to love someone, Jace, and I guess I don’t know how to allow someone to love me. How can I when I don’t even love myself? I hate the girl I was and the woman I’ve become. I’m sorry for everything, more than you’ll ever know.” The hard truth spills out of me, but I know that there’s not a single word I can say to fix the broken pieces of our past. “I thought I loved you. I still go through every day loving you, but until I know what love really is I can’t proclaim it to anyone. I know I got pushed into therapy, but this morning I finally got some insight as to why I am the way I am.” I massage my temples and try to keep talking without crying. “For the first time ever, I finally allowed myself to hope for a better me. Now that can’t happen because I’ll never go back there again. Your girlfriend or fiancé or whatever—she knows all of my shit. Knowing you’re hers, I’ll never be able to get past that.”

He turns his body toward the bed and rises up onto his knees. He’s looking at me and the electricity that was always there between us has stalked us six years into the future.

“Jess, you have to stay in therapy. I know I shouldn’t have, but I read your file. I could lose my job for all of this. To be honest, I can’t believe I’m here.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes briefly.

“This is all so wrong. All of it,” he mutters.

“Then go. Just go and live your life. Don’t ruin your career over me.”

His expression turns from pain to anger and he sits up.

“Do you think I want any of this? You left me, Jess. You left me without a single word. Do you have any idea how you ripped my heart out? I spent day after day missing you. I fucking loved you, Jessica!”

This is all too much for me. I can’t deal with it. Thinking about him being so hurt crushes me.

“I’m so sorry, Jace. I just wanted to do the best thing for you. A knocked-up girlfriend was not going to help your future.”

He shakes his head and sighs.

“You shouldn’t have made that assumption all on your own, Jess. I may have a hard time forgiving you for what you did, but after reading about your history, I can see how you came to the conclusion that you did—even though I disagree with your choice.” His voice lowers and everything about him looks sad, defeated. He’s so hurt and it’s all my fault. “I knew you struggled with inner demons, but that’s not all this is. You can’t control this on your own. You have to get help. You can’t stay at our clinic because of this obvious conflict of interest, but you have to find another therapist.”

I stare at the ceiling and try to absorb all of the five million emotions dive-bombing my thoughts.

His phone buzzes, interrupting our conversation. He grabs it out of his pocket, looks at the screen, and frowns. It’s her. I know it is, because if Jace was mine and it was after midnight, I’d be looking for him too. He pushes up off the floor and walks out of the room. I hear him say hello, but his voice fades away as he walks into the front of my apartment. He’s only gone for a minute before he returns. He looks torn, like he needs to leave, but wants to stay.

“Just go home. Go home to your fiancé. I’ll be fine.” I say, sitting upright. I glance over at my nightstand and notice my journal lying there. Fear shoots through me as I think back to when I was writing earlier. I know I didn’t leave it there. He already knows all of my mental shit; if he read that journal he knows every fear, every weakness, and every sliver of happiness I’ve ever felt. My soul is inside that journal. He follows my stare and immediately I know he read it. That’s it! That’s enough of him infiltrating my life tonight. I may have done something terrible and awful six years ago, but he has no damn right to read my medical files or my very personal thoughts. I reach out and grab the journal, but it isn’t clasped shut so the pages fan out. A single wrinkled piece of paper floats to the ground. We simultaneously reach down for it; he gets to it before I do. I stand up, clutching my journal to my chest.

“You had no right, Jace Collins,” I yell, poking him in the chest with my finger. “You had no right to read my medical file and you certainly had no right to read my personal journal! I want you out. Get out of my apartment right now. Get the hell out!”

He is cool and unfazed by my rant as he examines the piece of paper. He reaches down and flicks on the light on my nightstand, looking at the paper more closely.

“Is this what I think it is?” he asks as he squints at the old tattered receipt.

“Obviously you didn’t hear me. Get. Out. Now,” I scream, reaching out to grab the fragile piece of paper.

“You kept that old receipt even after you put my number in your phone? You kept it all this time?”

Yes, you asshole, I did. It was all I had left of you and I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

“Yeah, so what? Now get the hell out!” He fastens his eyes on me and my mouth automatically snaps shut, because it’s a different look than he’s given me all night. He’s looking at me with the depth of more than six years of loss in his cerulean eyes. They look sad, but needy. For the first time since he got here, I feel the vulnerability of my exposed, barely dressed body. He rakes his eyes from my face all the way down to my feet and then back to my face again. He steps in closer and reaches out, but I recoil.

“Jess, it’s me. You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he whispers. The way he’s staring at me right now, he’s nothing but a contradiction. He has a fiancé, yet he’s looking at me like he wants to consume me in every way humanly possible. I’ve looked into his eyes so many times before, but tonight, right now, the Jace looking at me is the Jace that made love to me six years ago. I can feel the heat radiating off of his strong body and my heart is beating so hard it almost vibrates throughout the room.

His voice breaks through my memories, “I should leave. I should walk out that damn door and never look back, but... Fuck! I can’t. I can’t leave and walk away from you without...” He stops mid-sentence and reaches out, grasping my face between his hands. He crashes his lips onto mine. His tongue invades my mouth with a hunger like I’ve never felt before. His right hand slides down to the lowest point of my back and he pulls me into him. Our bodies mold together perfectly, like two long lost puzzle pieces. Walls that have been built sky-high crumble and begin to fall. I feel every fiber in my body going off like fireworks and every ounce of me feels nothing but love for this man, but I can’t be sure that’s what it really is. I don’t think I’m capable of it. He begins placing a trail of kisses from the corner of my mouth down my neck, and he slides his other hand down over my shoulder taking my cami strap down as he goes. Goose bumps fan over my body and I shiver. He backs me up to the bed as he licks and caresses my collarbone. I have no idea what we are doing or why, but I can’t stop him. I want him, but what about her? He belongs to another woman. I fall back onto the bed and the weight of his body follows. For a moment, our eyes meet; his are glazed over with desire.

He’s looking at me like I’m the only woman on earth. But clearly, I’m not.

“What about your fiancé?” I ask breathlessly. “You belong to another woman.” I hate myself for reminding him. He leans down so close to my face that I can feel his warm, rapid breaths on my lips. His hand travels up my side, barely grazing the outer curve of my breast before finding my face. He gently takes hold of my chin and looks deeply into my eyes.

“I belong to you, Jess. My heart has belonged to you since I scooped you up off the ground over six years ago. That has never changed.”

“In the end we only regret

the chances we didn’t take.”

—Anonymous

Six years earlier...

I TAKE ANOTHER drink of my beer and scan the room. All of these people are supposedly here for me, and I don’t even know half of them. Mom always has to make everything so elaborate, and apparently if you’re rich and high society your underage kids can drink—as long as it’s expensive imported beer and fancy cocktails. This night is supposed to be exciting. I’m supposed to be psyched about going to Baylor tomorrow, but all I can think about is Jess. I hated seeing her so upset. Seeing that look on her face when she caught me in that damn pool with Brittney was awful. I don’t know what I hate more—that she saw me or that I did that. I’m such an asshole! I can’t think about leaving without seeing her, but I have no idea if she’ll even let me talk to her. She was so damn pissed off and hurt. So I’m sitting here consuming as much liquid courage as possible so that I can take my sorry ass over to her house to apologize.

Of all the people that could wander into my line of sight as I sit here thinking about Jess, that prick Harrison has to catch my eye. He saunters toward my table and it’s an effort for me to stay seated. I just want to get the hell out of this place. These people are not my friends. They’re the people my mom wants me to have as friends.

“Hey, dude! So, Baylor huh? I bet you’re stoked. Got any hot chicks lined up over there yet? I bet those college girls are mind-blowing in the sack,” Harrison says, patting me on the shoulder. I just want to flick him off like a fly. He’s such an arrogant fucktard.

“Harrison, not every guy goes to college to get a piece of ass, you know. Some of us actually want to go and play sports while getting an education.” He laughs and pulls a chair out, spinning it around backward as he straddles it.

“Jace, bro, please don’t tell me you’re still running around with that slut Jessica Alexander? What’s your deal over here all mopey and shit? I know it can’t be because of her, dude, because she ain’t worth it,” he says. What a class A motherfucker this guy is. He has no problem screwing her behind his girl’s back, but he thinks he’s better than her.

“You know what, Harrison? You’re a real son of a bitch.” I push up out of my chair and look directly at him. “You screwed her, right? Cheated on Hailey with her multiple times, from what I heard, and you think she’s the worthless one?” He grins—the bastard grins. I want to bust him right in his smug face right now. “Did you ever fucking consider that she thought you were a nice guy, that you really liked her? You went into it knowing all you wanted was an easy piece of ass, so I’d say you’re pretty fucking worthless yourself.” I slam my drink down on the table and look back to him, trying to contain the urge I feel to whoop his ass for what he did to her. “What you did that night, or, should I say, what you didn’t do when those bitches beat Jess up makes you even more of a piece of shit than you already were. So don’t come over here talking about someone you know nothing about, acting like we’re bros. My mom invited you to this charade, not me, so go blow smoke up someone else’s ass, Harrison, and save me the condescending bullshit already.” I turn and walk away before he can respond, because if he says one wrong word I know I won’t be able to control this anger I’m feeling. I head over to the bar for another drink when I see Elizabeth.

Somebody please shoot me now and put me out of my misery.

She sashays over to me in her tiny, barely there yellow dress with her blond hair tumbling down her bare shoulders. She’s holding a martini glass, looking like a perfect future candidate for one of those housewife reality shows. What I ever saw in this girl, I’ll never know.

“What’s up? You look real nice this evening, Jace. Are you here with your good pal Jessica? I don’t see her skulking around here anywhere. You still playing the knight in shining armor to the county whore or not? She must be real good in bed for you to keep her around for so long, Jacey,” she says as she sips her drink and bats her long, fake eyelashes at me. I roll my eyes and try to hold in all the things I’d really like to say to her. She may be a complete and total bitch, but making a scene isn’t worth it. She’s baiting me and I know it. I lean in really close so only she can hear me.

“Elizabeth, let me say this once and only once. I don’t need to sleep with Jess to know how good she is because she’s a genuinely good person. Funny thing is I did sleep with you and all I learned in the end was what a horrible, callous person you really are on the inside.” Her smile fades, replaced by a pissed off frown. “So keep calling Jess all the vile things you want, but you might want to take a look in the mirror, for purposes other than checking your lipstick, before you start throwing stones,” I hiss. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops as she glares at me.

“Thanks for coming, Elizabeth. It’s always such a pleasure,” I joke before giving her a chance to say anything. I leave her standing there stunned as I make my way through the crowd.

These people are so self-righteous. Harrison and Liz think they’re so much better than Jess. They just don’t know the girl I know. She’s got a shady past, but, for some reason, I don’t care. The time I’ve spent with her has shown me so much more than I ever thought I knew about her. She comes off as this broken girl, but when it’s just her and me she’s different. I’ll never forget the way she first dove into my pool with an air of confidence like no other. Then she smoked my ass in a freestyle race, like it was a piece of cake. When I beat her in the butterfly stroke, she was immediately ready to go again so she could try to beat me.

“Jace, get your butterflying butt back here. We are doing this again. That was beginner’s luck. I’m a little rusty on my butterfly, but you are totally not winning again,” I remember her telling me. She stood on the side of the pool, her hand on her hip with an eyebrow arched, looking at me with a flirty grin on her face. She never did beat me, but she damn well tried.

She’s also hilarious and all of her funny shirts make me laugh. Even though she’s been with half the guys I know, when she’s with me, she seems so innocent and shy. I hate that she thinks I’ve never looked at her as more than friends. If she only knew how many times I’ve checked out her ass in those tiny little board shorts she likes to wear, or how many times I’ve breathed in the shampoo smell of her hair when we played basketball. The way her hair falls down all messily in her face is beautiful, and she has the best smile I’ve ever seen. No one at school ever got to see that smile. She loves my taste in music and even though I know she doesn’t really care for football, I love that she tried to get into it for my sake. Liz hated football and bitched constantly when I watched it.

“Did you see that? That ref was totally wrong—that was definitely an illegal chop block!” Jess said one day when we were watching a game in my living room. I nearly spit out my soda when she made that comment. I looked over at her with raised eyebrows and she just shrugged her shoulders saying, “What? You know it was!” I just laughed. She always makes me laugh.

I love how she’s naturally beautiful and I like how she doesn’t cake makeup on her face the way other girls do. It’s refreshing, and being with her is too. I just hope I haven’t ruined things with her for good. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and contemplate calling her, but, more than likely, she won’t answer. I shove it back in my pocket and suck down the rest of my beer. I scan the crowd for Mom, but I don’t see her anywhere. I decide to text her and let her know I’m tired and headed home. I fumble for the keys in my pocket and shuffle out the back doors to the parking lot. I know I’ve had too much to drink and shouldn’t get in the truck, but I want to see her. I know she won’t take my calls, so I’m going over there to make her hear me out. I want her to know how I really feel—no more of this “just friends” thing anymore. She needs to know what she means to me before I leave, and if she’ll let me, I‘ll show her exactly how much I want her.

Driving over to Jess’s house, a ton of things are rolling through my head. I’m pretty pissed at myself for letting all of this time go by without seeing things more clearly. I pull over at the gas station to get a bottle of water knowing that I really need to sober up a little before talking to her. I don’t want to be a total drunk when I say what I need to say.

I’m sitting in her driveway and I’m freaking nervous as hell. I get out and go to the door, pushing the bell and holding my breath until it opens. It’s her. And the look of shock on her face is undeniable. She’s wearing little denim shorts and a white fitted T-shirt with a picture of a cat on it that says
You’ve Cat To Be Kitten Me Right Meow
in black writing. I nearly chuckle out loud as I read it, but I’m here for a serious reason, so I hold it back. I really do love her funny shirts and she looks so damn adorable right now. She’s going to make me crazy. I just know it.

Why do you have to be so adorably beautiful, Jess?

“Jace, what are you doing here and why do you reek of alcohol?” she says, and I immediately feel bad for coming here after drinking so much. She’s never going to take me seriously now.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, Jess. I just wanted to say good-bye to my friend,” I tell her, trying to sound as sober as possible.

She peers over my shoulder toward my truck. “You’re drunk! You can’t drive around in this condition. You’re going to kill someone else or yourself,” she huffs. “I’m taking you home. You can have someone get your truck for you in the morning. Wait here while I get my keys.”

Shit! She’s mad, but at least she’s going to be alone with me long enough for me to get out what I need to say to her. She comes back out, hooks her arm in mine, and leads me to my car. I rest my head on her shoulder and inhale loudly, nuzzling my nose in her sweet-smelling hair.

“I love your hair, Jess. It’s the prettiest hair I have ever seen and it smells so good,” I tell her. She’s warm and sweet and trying to take care of my drunken ass. I really like it.

“Shut up, Jace. You’re drunk and don’t know what you’re saying,” she snaps. Man, she’s feisty tonight. This could be a good thing or a very bad thing. She pushes me down into her passenger seat and shuts the door. I can’t let her take me home yet. I need to talk to her first.

“I’m not ready to go home yet, Jess. Just drive around,” I tell her.

“You need to go home and sleep this off. You have a big day tomorrow, plus I don’t want to drive around with you. I’m only helping you because I couldn’t let you get yourself killed driving like this,” she says, sounding really irritated with me. I have to make her hear me, listen to me. I can’t leave tomorrow with her pissed off at me with no idea how I feel about her.

“Jess, don’t hate me anymore,” I whisper as I roll my head to the side. Her jaw clenches and her knuckles whiten as she grips the steering wheel tighter. As we approach my house I know my minutes are limited.

“I’m sorry it couldn’t be you, Jess, that it wasn’t you in the pool with me.” I reach over and absently tuck a dark lock of her beautiful hair behind her ear. “Forgive me, don’t hate me anymore.”

There I said it.