I walk into the empty apartment two hours later, dump my bag on the table and survey the room. I don’t even want to be here, I should be at work organizing, instead of coming home to sob into my pillow. I need to get a grip of my life. Wilma is right and all of this has been non-stop, yet all I’ve done is bury my head in the sand and pushed myself to go to work, never taking the time to absorb it all. I need time to think. Real time to myself, to figure out what I’m going to do.
Do I want to work in Europe?
No … I don’t want to leave New York.
Do I want to leave Carrero House?
No. I love working there, it’s familiar and stable. Plus, I adore Wilma, Margo, and even Rosalie. I would miss the people I see every day even though we don’t interact much. I couldn’t leave Sarah. I mean, I know she has Marcus and lately, I’m starting to warm to him a little. I even laughed at a joke he made a few days ago, but still … She’s my best friend.
But, on the other hand, things aren’t going anywhere. I feel like every time I see any light at the end of the tunnel, Jake appears and blacks it out. He’s all I can see; all I can focus on and it’s driving me slowly insane.
How did we get here? He used to be my everything, my friend, my protector, my lifeline … and now he’s the cause of everything that’s wrong with me.
It feels like we’ve been apart for months, but the reality is, it’s only been weeks, just a month. Dragging days and sleepless nights have caused time to stand still and I need to get over him, yet I haven’t even begun.
Pulling on jogging clothes I decide to go for a run. It’s mid-afternoon in Queens and the sun is out, kids playing in the street. It’s getting late in the season so it’s unexpectedly warm for the time of year. Christmas will be here soon and that’s going to be an ordeal and a half as I know my mother wanted to come here this year for some reason. Obviously, I don’t want her to. I’ve invited Sophie on Christmas Eve to spend some time with her, and the last thing I need is my mother anywhere near her or me.
God, I miss that girl.
She’s been emailing me religiously. She seems to be doing well in her new home and in such a short time she’s settled so well. She can’t believe how blessed she is, getting used to a wealthy family and all the perks that go with her new lifestyle.
I pound my feet into the pavement, working up a sweat and it feels good. I’ve missed running even though I only seemed to do it when I was staying in hotels with Jake. It had become part of the ritual of our life. Since I’ve come home my running shoes have glared at me angrily from the corner asking why I’m neglecting them, but not anymore.
I wonder if Marissa will be there and my stomach lurches in agony; up until now I’ve done well to ignore that little issue. It pains me in so many ways to know that she and Jake hooked up and could potentially be together again. It kills me to know she’s carrying his child, whether he wants it or not. I wish I could see inside his head and really know how he feels about her, and the baby, gain some insight. She’s the one person in the world I hate as much as Ray Vanquis.
I can’t see what her appeal is, I mean Jake and Marissa are so unmatched. I’ve never understood how he could fall in love with her, even as a teen. She’s so vain and self-centered, cold, and domineering in so many ways. Her poor child will have one loving parent, at least, one rock to rely on. And, as much as it hurts me, so much more than I’m capable of enduring, I know Jake will be a good father.
* * *
I hit the shower on my return and eat with Sarah and Marcus quietly. It’s late and they have no clue that I’ve been home for hours. Conversation is light. I watch them and for the first time I see it, the compatibility, the companionship between them. Despite still thinking he’s a smarmy creep, I can see the genuine affection he has for Sarah and it humbles yet pains me. I want this with Jake, so badly. We had something close once, but we let this mess and sex get in the way and we destroyed everything. I destroyed everything so I only have myself to blame.
I don’t tell Sarah anything. She’s too happy and comfy in Marcus’ arms watching a movie so I endure the romantic comedy for a bit then excuse myself and head to bed. Faithful old sleeping pills working wonders and getting me through my current tragic life.
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