“Want to crash here?” I asked him.
He nodded, obviously exhausted. We both trudged up the stairs. Walking over to the TV, I switched it on. I was so overtired it wasn’t funny.
“I'm too worked up to sleep now.” I chuckled, flicking through the infomercials. This was why I needed cable.
“Me too. How about a drink?” he asked and I nodded, sinking into the sofa as Alex grabbed two beers from the fridge. He handed me one, the top already popped open.
“So, how are you?” he asked. I shot him a look. Was this Alex my brother, or Alex the psychologist talking?
“Yeah good. It was a great turn out. Couldn't have gone better . . . oh,” I said, catching his expression, “you mean Harmony?”
Alex chuckled. “That was quite a show.”
“She's insane, Alex. And she thinks I have this thing for Rose…she’s crazy. ” I shook my head. “Harmony, not Rose,” I added, making a mental note not to make crazy jokes around Rose.
“Do you?”
“Do I what?” I asked, avoiding the question.
“Come on, Jack. It's me. I see how you look at her. Like you've never seen anyone so beautiful in all your life.” He stopped, embarrassed by his words.
Why couldn't I just admit to myself, at least, that I liked her? Because I fucking did. I liked the way she laughed, and the inappropriate things that came out of her mouth sometimes. I liked the way my heart felt like it was going to explode every time I caught sight of her. And how her touch felt like someone had lit a match and was holding it against my bare skin.
I loved the smell of her when she first arrived; fresh flowers and vanilla, like she had just stepped out of the shower, which of course led me to imagining her in the shower. This girl was messing with my head, and it embarrassed me to think what she might be thinking about me. I either acted rudely toward her, ignored her, or I stared at her like a freak.
Then there were the rare occasions where I let my guard down when she was around. She got a glimpse of the real me then, if she wasn't confused enough already
“I do like her, but it’s not that easy. Not after . . . I can’t go through that again.”
“You can't turn yourself off forever, Jack. You have to move on at some point.” He paused. “It's been three years. Are you afraid that moving on means you loved Belle less? Because it doesn't.”
“I'm way too tired to talk about this now, Alex. I think I might go to bed. You're right in the spare room? Towels and stuff are in the closet near the bathroom.”
Alex nodded, not pushing the subject.
“Night, Jack.”
#
I walked into my bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, I eased open the bottom drawer, reaching far into the back. I pulled out the small wooden box and lifted the lid.
The tiny angel sparkled as it caught the light. Gently, I lifted it out, holding the chain so the angel and diamond rested in the palm of my hand. I balled up my fist, tears stinging my eyes. God, I missed her so much.
I reached into the box and pulled out the picture. My angel, Belle. My heart pounded as I stared at her beautiful smile. Life was so fucking unfair. I would never forgive myself for Belle. All I could do was learn from my experiences.
And never fall in love again.
Chapter Eleven
Rose
I let myself into the empty apartment, trying not to think about how quiet and eerie it felt. I was alone for the next week, with Marina off on a few overseas trips for work. I flicked the lights on and glanced around. Maybe it was just because it was my first night here, but something was giving me the willies.
I walked over to the balcony to check the lock, and closed the drapes. Then I made my way over to the fridge and poured myself a juice. It was so late, and I had to start work at the diner in a few hours. I'd considered calling in sick, but there was no I could do that on my first day. Leaving the living room lights on, I stumbled down to the bedroom.
Pulling back the covers, I climbed in. Instant relief. This was so much better than sleeping in my car. I flicked off the lamp and lay there in the semi darkness, trying to block the thoughts in my head, my parents, therapy, Alex . . . and Jack.
Jack.