I Love My Healed Heart: 4 Book Box Set/Omnibus (Erotic Romance) (12 page)

Around 10 P.M.

Back at
my place, cuddled on the couch with my book, wearing my comfy grey sweats and
tank top – I hear the distinctive sound of an incoming email on my phone.
I reach over and pick it up from where it sits, hidden among the piles of
magazines and letters on my low coffee table. Opening it up I see the name
Mark. I fly off the couch, staring at it like it’s an illusion.

Mark
emailed. I never thought I’d hear from him again, after he went back home to
San Francisco. But there he is. The subject line reads: Thinking of you.

My heart
is beating fast in my chest. Mark’s name surprising me out of the blue –
really does something to me. Meeting him, our little rendezvous, was such a
surprise, because I ended up really liking him. And he showed up with flowers,
so that was pretty amazing since it hasn’t happened to me for a long time. But
then he wanted me to open up to him, even though he was destined to break my
already shattered heart, because he lives three thousand miles away! That’s not
close by, by any stretch of the imagination, you know?

I don’t
believe in long-distance relationships. I need to physically see my boyfriend.
Especially since my ex cheated on me and he lived with me. I saw him every
night and still he was untrustworthy. How could I handle never seeing my
boyfriend, and hoping for the best in between visits that are too far and few,
between?

I should
probably just open the email before I hyperventilate. Maybe he just wants to
say hi or tell me he left something at my place. I open it and read: I’m coming
to New York next weekend. You’re on my mind all the time. I’d love to see you
while I’m there. Let me take you out on Friday. Don’t say no this time. –
Mark.

Gulp.
He’s coming to town. How can I say no to seeing him?

What
about James?

Just
then, a text comes through and at first I think, wouldn’t it be a wild
coincidence if James texted me right now? I close my eyes before I look at the
phone, hold my breath, and peek them open. But it’s from Nicole and it read:
The bartender’s name! We didn’t get his name!

Wow.
She’s right! Well, I guess she’ll find out soon enough.

I text
back: Can we just call him Captain Courageous?

Nicole:
How about STUD?

I laugh
at this and am about to reply when another text comes through, from James!
Whoa.

I almost
drop the phone when I read: I want to take you on a real date. Friday?

Holy,
what?!! I pick up the glass of water I have on the coffee table and drink it
down, fast. I need hydration. This can’t be happening. I put it, and the phone,
back on the table. My phone with its text from James and its email from Mark
both asking me out for the same night, stares back at me. Why is this happening
to me?

I lower
myself slowly onto the couch and stare at my phone like it’s an alien who’s
just spoken for the first time. Hello Earthling. Who will you do? I mean,
choose?

I have no
idea. I’m not sure how I feel about either of them. Can I have them both? Meet
one earlier and the other later? Is that possible? No, that’d be a total dick
move. I’m not a dick. I’m a lady with a problem. Laughing somewhat
hysterically, I stand up and pace the room, shooting frantic looks at my alien
phone, before opting to go to the kitchen where I pour the last glass of Pinot
Grigio. This is going to take more than water. Asking my heart for guidance, I
lean against and wall, take a sip of my cold, calming wine and wonder, what do
I want? What do I really want to do?

The
answer comes. I walk to the phone. I pick it up.

I turn it
off.

The
answer is simple. What I really want is…is to think about this later. This day
has been to much and there is no way I’m thinking correctly. Plus it’s the
middle of freaking Fashion Week. I need to get some sleep!

As
Scarlett O’Hara said, “After all… tomorrow is another day.”

(glug
glug)

The End of Part 3

A Sunday, Early In
Summer

(the day he ripped my
heart out)

David
pushes his hair away from his eyes, then takes my hand again. Sweating,
panting, joggers pass us as we walk under one of the beautiful stone bridges in
Central Park. “I don’t know how they do that, in this humidity,” he says,
shaking his head.

“I have
no idea. That would entail more self-discipline than I have.” We walk until we
get to a pond… or is it a lake? I can never remember how big a pond has to be
before it graduates. “Oh, look! A turtle. Awww, how cute. See, he’s got the
right idea. What’s the hurry?” I smile at the little guy, and he blinks once.
I’ll take that as approval.

David
stands behind me and puts his arms around me. I lean into him, my back against
his chest. He squeezes tightly and rests his chin on me, watching our little
friend over my shoulder, our cheeks touching.

“I think
we should see other people,” he says into my ear, as if he’d said,
What a beautiful day.

I
stiffen. It takes me a moment, because I am not sure I heard what I just heard.
My heart stops and I choke, “What?”

“I think
we should see other people,” he repeats and gives me an extra squeeze, for God
knows what reason.

I am
stunned, so I don’t pull away yet, because the way this just happened is
throwing off my grasp with reality. Oh. Okay. I’ve got it now. “I’m sorry,
what? What are you talking about?” I say and jerk away from his embrace to turn
to face him. The turtle jumps off the rock he was resting on, landing in the
water with a kerplunk, behind me.

“Let’s
not make a scene, Jess.” David says, holding his palms out to me and stepping
back.

“Nobody
cares! Look around!” He doesn’t need to, because he knows. He just said that
because he wants to save himself the drama. Fine. I turn away and start walking
fast in the direction of nowhere. I don’t know where I’m going! I need to
think. I can’t think. My head is spinning. What is happening? This is the worst
feeling. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.

“Jess!”
He catches up with me and tries to take my hand, which is swinging pretty
wildly.

“Don’t!
David, don’t… please. I need a minute to think. Just give me a minute, so I can
think. I can’t…” I spin around and look at him. He doesn’t look as upset as I
need him to. “Where did this come from? Are you seeing someone else? Is that
what’s going on?”

“No. Not
at all. I just think that people aren’t meant to be monogamous, and maybe we
should see other people.” He shrugs and reaches out to touch me.

I recoil
like he has a disease. Which he does. It’s called asshole. “You don’t think
people are meant to be monogamous?” I ask, incredulously.

He takes
a breath, looks at his Converse sneakers then back to me and says, “No. I
don’t.”

“Do you
think you could have told me that before you asked me to move in with you?” I
ask, my eyes rounded with shock. I turn around in a circle, my hands on my
head, trying to figure out why this is happening. I can handle this, what he’s
telling me, as long as he hasn’t cheated on me. “You really haven’t slept with
anyone? Tell me the truth, David. Please don’t lie to. I can’t take it.”

“No. Of
course not,” he says gently and this time successfully takes my hand in his. He
pulls me to him and I let him, but I am screaming inside. “I’m sorry, Jess. I
love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Uh-huh.
Okay.”

“Let’s go
home. We’ll get some food. Nothing has to be done right now, okay?” He says
quietly. Does he feel my heart pounding?

“Uh-huh.
Okay.”

“Great.”
He releases me, takes my shaking hand and leads me to home. Our home. During
the walk, we are silent. I’m almost glad he’s got my hand because if he hadn’t,
I’d probably stop in the middle of traffic. Not out of a desire to kill myself,
though. I’d stop simply because I’d forget to keep walking. My mind rifles over
and over again through the past few weeks, trying to find clues I must have
missed. He’s come home later than he said he would, but not that much later and
only once or twice. He’s been as affectionate as ever. If anything, we’ve been
having
more
sex
than usual. I can’t think of anything that would make him want to
break up. He hasn’t said that word yet, but that’s essentially what this is. I
don’t think he’d say it aloud. That’d be too brave.

Wait. I
look at him. Do I think my boyfriend’s a coward?

That Tuesday Night

I haven’t
told Amber and Nicole about what happened two days ago. I went to work
yesterday and today, but I barely remember anything from it. I haven’t eaten.
I’ve hardly slept. The Bitch has been in France on business, so at least I had
that little break from the universe. Break. Break. Breakup. David still hasn’t
said it…
breakup.
I want to say it,
but he’s being so nice. A text comes through on his phone. I look over at him
as he checks it and puts the phone back down. I wonder, does he think we can go
on like this? Does he notice I’m a shell of myself now? Does he think we can
see other people while we live together? I know I should ask him, but my tongue
is dry.

“Do we
have any wine, David?” My voice is barely a whisper, from the couch.

“Yeah.
Let me get you some, babe. I have to go take a dump first,” he says from where
he sits at the desk. He gets up and walks to the bathroom as if it’s a normal night.

“Okay.” I
watch his exit and silently hate him. I picture a vortex appearing in the
toilet that reaches up and drags him off to another universe, where I don’t
have to see him again. Wait. That’s not cool. We can work through this. This is
just a phase. Relationships hit bumps all the time. At least he didn’t cheat on
me. Maybe he’s just getting freaked out, since we’ve been so happy…

But I
hear a voice inside my gut whispering,
check
his phone
. I’m not the type of girl who checks a guy’s phone. I don’t read
diaries, either. I look at his phone, sitting where he left it on the desk. It
gets larger and larger as I stare. My eyes dart over to the closed bathroom
door. I become very aware that time is of the essence. Before I know what I’m
doing, I’m up, walking to the desk and snatching up his phone. I open the text
message conversations, quickly. I feel a hot flush rush through my body. Hurry,
Jess, Hurry.

I see
names in this order: Melanie, Bob (his boss), Thomas (his best friend), Jess
(me). I look at the name Melanie, a name I don’t recognize. It’s also the name
on the text that just came through. The one he didn’t answer. I start to sweat.
My heart pounds so hard, I’m terrified it will explode.

I click
on her name to read: Is she still there?

Is who
still there? Is she asking about me? Why wouldn’t I be here? I live here! I
look at the bathroom door. Feelings of violence boiling inside of me, I scroll
to find this conversation that happened on Saturday:

David:
I’m going down on u in my mind right now.

Melanie:
Mmmmmm. Feels good.

David:
Why aren’t u here?

Melanie:
Because your girlfriend is there.

David:
She’s just left for yoga class.

Melanie:
Oh, really? ;)

David:
Yes, really.

Melanie:
I’ll be right over.

David: :)

With all
of my strength, I throw the phone at the bathroom door. It makes a loud thud
and bounces to the floor, thanks to the stupid protective, rubber cover. “Are
you fucking kidding me!!!???”

“What
the…” David comes out of the bathroom, zipping his pants.

“You told
me you haven’t slept with anybody! Who the fuck is Melanie? I can’t believe
it.” I repeat that last sentence several times, holding my head in my hands and
pacing.

“Jess.
Calm down. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re being crazy,” he says,
approaching me with his hands out. He stops a safe distance from me, though, smart
asshole that he is.

I glare
at him. “Has anyone ever calmed down when they were told “Calm down”?! NO!”

“Tell me
what’s going on.”

“You slept
with her when I was AT YOGA, David. That is what’s going on! You’re a lying
fucking jerk bastard dickhead liar! THAT’S what is going on. I can’t believe
it. I knew it in my gut that you were lying, that you must have slept with
someone else – and I didn’t believe it! I’m such an idiot!”

“Did you
check my phone while I was in the bathroom? That’s an invasion of privacy,” he
says, his tone accusing and wronged.

“ARE YOU
FUCKING KIDDING ME!!??”

“Sorry.
Calm – I mean…
take a breath
.
Breathe Jessica, breathe. Your face is really red.”

Hearing
the word
breathe
reminds me of yoga;
of being Zen and going with the flow of life. Is this life’s flow? Me getting
cheated on and lied to, by the man who says he loves me? I collapse onto the
couch and sob. This is the worst feeling I’ve ever had. Ever.

He admits
it, now, to me. I think my crying like this must have gotten through to
whatever decency he has inside him. I nod as I listen to the confession. When
he finishes, I stand up. I pick up my keys, my bag, my phone and then walk
numbly out the door. I’m wearing green pajama shorts, a white loose t-shirt,
and no shoes.

“Jessica!”
he calls out. I keep walking. He runs down the few stairs I’ve descended,
stands in front of me and puts my favorite sneakers on the step below me. Seeing
them hurts my heart, but I don’t know why. “You can’t walk around barefoot.
It’s not safe.”

I don’t
say anything. I don’t meet his eyes. I don’t punch him in the throat, although
I want to. Instead, I silently slide my feet into my shoes, with his help. Then
I walk past him and down the rest of the stairs… and out the door. I never go
back.

When I
knock on Amber’s door, Josh answers. He takes one look at me and stands to the
side to welcome me in. “Amber!” he yells, his voice worried.

“Yeah,
honey?” she calls back and steps out of the bathroom, wearing sweats and a tank
top, holding a toothbrush with fresh toothpaste on it, ready to go.

One look
at me, and she runs over, hands Josh the toothbrush, and engulfs me in a huge
hug. I cry on her shoulder and can feel her motion to Josh to give us some
privacy. He tiptoes off to the bedroom as she leads me to the couch and grabs
the tissue box on the coffee table to hand it to me. I blow my nose into it, my
shoulders shaking with tears. “I’m going to get you some wine, honey. I can
call Nicole, too. Do you want me to?” I nod, tears falling.

Alone, I
stare at a figurine of a small fairy, wearing purple, and try to catch my
breath. I hear her pour the wine, send the text, in the other room. I’m so
thankful for my girlfriends. When she returns and hands the chardonnay to me,
she puts her hand on my knee and listens to the whole story. When Nicole
arrives, I tell it all again, and the three of us go over
every
detail of
every
moment, trying to make sense of how this could happen. How could he have
thought it was okay to do this to me. How anyone can do this, to anyone…

I sleep
on the couch at Amber’s and Josh’s. Within a couple days, Amber finds me a cute
little shoebox apartment to move into in the East Village. It feels like home. I
pay movers to pack up my place for me, with David’s help. I don’t want to go
back there. I want to move on and be strong.

I know
that this thing with David had to end, and that’s why this happened. I could
never be truly happy with a man who could do something like this to me. If we’d
been together for ten years, and he had one slip, and was sorry, etc. I could
have probably gotten over that. There would have been time and love spent, and
it would have happened for a good reason, probably. But this? The way he did
this shows me, he’s just not my guy.

He is
so
not my guy.