Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend 3)

For good.

“Well, I really appreciate you taking part in this because I don’t know how I’d get out of here otherwise.” I throw my one suitcase into the backseat of Drew’s extended-cab truck and climb into the passenger seat, looking at Fable expectantly. “You ready to go?”

She’s sitting in the driver’s seat, looking exceptionally tiny in such a huge vehicle, her small hands gripping the steering wheel. Her long blond hair is piled on top of her head in a sloppy bun and her sleepy-looking face is devoid of makeup, but she’s still beautiful. She wears Old Navy sweats and a T-shirt, fake Uggs covering her feet. I’m wearing almost the same damn thing in different colors, though I don’t bother pointing out that we’re practically twinsies.

Now is not the time for cutesy-type stuff. I need to make my escape. And Fable is uncomfortable enough already with the situation.

“You should tell him you’re leaving,” she blurts out, her imploring eyes meeting mine. “It’s the least you can do.”

“I left him a note.” I tear my gaze away from hers, staring at the dark, quiet house. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, walking away from him. Leaving his bed while he lay there sleeping peacefully . . . I’d wanted to slip right back beneath the covers and hold him close. Never let him go.

But I didn’t. I had to go. It was best for both of us.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

“A note is a really chicken-shit thing to do,” Fable says softly. “Trust me, I hate notes. It’s much better to pour out your feelings to someone in person.”

“You love Drew’s poems,” I point out. “And he’s always pouring his heart out in those.” A big, buff football player with a romantic heart, the guy is downright swoon-worthy.

My overprotective, sort-of-demanding Colin is swoon-worthy too. I just refuse to think about him like that any longer. It’s too hard. My heart hurts, I miss him so much.

And I haven’t even left him yet.

“Yeah, I love his poems now. But when he first left me, he left behind a note that both broke my very soul and filled me with so much hope that I knew he’d come back to me.” She smiles, but it’s sad. “He didn’t.”

“What?” I’m incredulous. “What are you talking about?” I thought they were perfect for each other. That they had the perfect relationship. Yeah, I knew they had some trouble and things were rocky at first, but I had no idea he’d bailed on her and didn’t come back.

“Remember that night when the frat boys were having the party and Drew was there? And he almost got into a fight with that one asshole?” Fable shudders at the memory.

“Yeah, of course I remember.” That had been quite the drama-filled evening. It had also brought Fable and me closer together. I realized then that she could become my friend.

And she did. She’s now my very best friend and I’m leaving her, too.

“That was the first night I saw him after over two months,” Fable admits.

Here I thought their relationship was the ideal we should all aspire to. “Fable, I had no idea . . .”

She waves a hand, dismissing my words, clearly uncomfortable with my sympathy. “Yeah, yeah. It was a mess, but eventually we figured everything out and made it work, so look at us now. We’re getting married.”

Jealousy clutches at my heart, makes me wish I could have that easy acceptance from Colin, but I know it’s never going to happen. He will forever hold what I did in the past against me. I can’t blame him.

I hold it against me too.

“Whatever he did,” she says softly, breaking through my thoughts, “whatever you’ve done, none of it matters if you love each other enough.”

I really hate when she pulls the mind-reader stuff. “I wish I could believe that,” I mutter resentfully. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy when you face all your problems together. Easier, I should say. Fighting your battles separately won’t work. Trust me. The battles just grow larger and longer.”

“Please don’t lecture me and try to keep me here,” I whisper, my voice nothing but a ragged rasp. “We need to go, Fable. Now. He might wake up and realize I’m gone.”

Her lips disappearing into a thin line, she shifts the truck into drive and pulls away from the sidewalk, driving slowly through the neighborhood I’ve lived in for little over a year. Tears threaten as I stare at the houses that we pass by and I don’t hold them back, letting them flow freely down my cheeks.

“Why, Jen?” Fable’s sad voice makes me turn and look at her. “Why are you leaving when you so clearly don’t want to? What’s so bad about this place, huh? You have me, you have Drew, you have everyone who works at The District, and you have Colin. We all support you and care about you. So why won’t you stay?”

I rub the back of my neck, my fingers tracing over the stupid, beautiful tattoo. Colin cares for me. Perhaps he even loves me. Can he accept what happened? What I did? I don’t know. We may have had sex and shared a beautiful moment together, but we didn’t talk about anything.

Before I give myself—and my heart—to Colin completely, I need to make sure he’s ready. And I don’t think he’s there yet.

So it’s best to get it over with now, right? Leave him before he can really break my heart . . .

“There’s more going on than you know,” I admit to Fable, my voice shaky, my stomach roiling. I feel sick; I’ve hardly eaten anything since lunch yesterday and I think I might puke. Closing my eyes briefly, I try to stop the tears, searching for some sort of inner strength. “I’ve done things in my past I’m not proud of.”

“I thought he knew you were a stripper?” she asks gently.

Nodding, I brush at the tears still streaming down my cheeks. “There’s other stuff, too. Bad stuff I couldn’t tell you.” I take a deep, shuddering breath. “Really bad stuff, Fable. You might hate me for it. I know he does.”

Fable pulls over the truck and puts it into park, then turns to look at me. “Whatever you’ve done, I don’t care. It will never, ever bother me because you’re my friend and I will never judge you. You can choose to tell me all about it or keep it your secret—I totally understand and respect your decision.” She pauses, her gaze gentling, so full of genuine concern it makes me want to cry harder. Just collapse in her arms and absorb some of her strength for awhile. “But if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. I want you to know that.”

I nod, hardly able to speak, too overcome by her kind and easy acceptance. “I—I let men pay me money for sex,” I blurt out, needing to tell her, needing to get everything off my chest.

She doesn’t blink, doesn’t react whatsoever, though I see sympathy fill her gaze. “Oh Jen . . .”

“I know, right? I’m nothing but a whore. Not that I got paid for having intercourse with anyone, but I handed out bl*w j*bs for cash.” I shake my head, disgusted at the words, at the realization of what I’ve done. I cheapened myself. Sold my body like a common slut. I’m so ashamed, I wish I could crawl inside a hole and never, ever come out.

“You did what you had to do, I’m sure.” Fable reaches for me over the center console and I go to her, letting her envelop me in a hug. She holds me close, patting my back, making soothing noises as I start to cry in earnest on her shoulder. I can’t believe I’m falling apart like this. Talk about embarrassing.

But it also feels good. Liberating. This secret has boiled within me for so long, I thought I might burst. I believed I could forget all about it. Just push the dirty memories from my mind and pretend it never happened.

It did happen, though. I can’t forget it. Everyone thinks I’m good, sweet, and kind Jen, but I’m not. I’m a fraud.

“I don’t know how Colin found out, but he knew everything. Everything.” My voice chokes up and I shake my head. “God, I hated the way he looked at me. Like I was the most disgusting thing on this planet.”

“I doubt that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and it’s more like you’re the sexiest, most beautiful woman on this planet in his eyes,” Fable says. “He loves you, Jen. He has to. I’m sure he can look past your mistakes and forgive you.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt that,” I mutter, wishing what Fable said were true.

But wishes are for fools. So I guess I’m one of them.

Chapter 22

Colin

“She’s gone, and I think you know where she went,” I growl into my cell phone, not giving a shit who might hear me. “So you’d better fuckin’ tell me.”

I’m at work, the place is bustling, and I’m hiding out in my office, seeking privacy though I keep the door wide open. Maybe one of my employees will overhear me and offer up some information about Jen. I have my suspicions. I’m guessing she fled to Sacramento early, but I want confirmation.

And then I want to go to Sac and find her so I can bring her back here. To her home, where she belongs.

With me.

“Don’t you dare curse at me, Colin. I know you’re my boss, but that gives you no right to talk to me like that.” Fable sighs, sounding completely put out that I’m calling her, but I really don’t give a shit. “Listen, it’s my day off and I don’t have time to deal with you right now. I’m exhausted. Maybe we can talk about this tomorrow.”

She’s being just as rude as I am. I can tell when she’s trying to avoid something and she is most definitely trying to avoid me. The little sneak. She knows everything—I can feel it in my bones. “Did you help her leave this morning?”

Finding Jen gone, her stuff packed up and her bedroom empty, made me lose my shit. As in, I threw a framed picture of Danny and me against the wall, the glass shattering all over the floor. I’d felt only a hint of satisfaction at destroying something before the remorse kicked in.

And the sadness. Then the anger.

Jesus, I really know how to f**k things up.

Fable is silent for so long I’m afraid she hung up, until she finally says one, simple word.

“Yes.”

Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere. “Tell me where you took her, Fable. I need to know. I need to find her.”

“Why, so you can chase her down and force her to come back to work for you after you fired her? Pretend that everything is exactly the same? Because it’s so not and you know it.” She pauses. “I know what she told you, Colin. What she did. She admitted everything to me. And you’re being a complete jackass for not accepting her in spite of it. It shouldn’t matter. It’s all a part of her past. You need to forget about it and focus on the present.”

Damn it, she sounds just like Danny in my dream. I know Fable is right, but I can’t help myself. It both breaks my heart and fills me with uncontrollable rage, what Jen’s done. How she cheapened herself when she’s worth so much more. “I know. You’re right,” I murmur. “So if I’m going to accept what happened and fight to bring her back here, I need to know where she is. I need you to tell me.”

“I took her to the bus station,” Fable admits grudgingly, her voice soft. “She was going to Sacramento. She got it all arranged with her new roomie and she’s moving in early.”

Just as I thought, but I need more. “And where does her new roommate live? What part of the city?”

“That I’m not sure. She mentioned Citrus Heights, I think, but I don’t know. One of those suburbs out there that’s close to Sacramento. That’s as far as it went, though, information-wise.”

“And what about her address? Did you get that?” It’s a long shot, but I have to ask.

“No.” Fable sighs. “I told her to text me when she got there and she said she would, but she hasn’t. And she should’ve been there by now.”

Worry claws at my throat. Jen bought a new cell; she’d picked it up yesterday afternoon before work. I already tried to call her. Text her. Multiple times. I left her a few pleading, desperate voice-mail messages. She hasn’t responded to any of them. And that stupid, useless note she left on my pillow, for the love of God, had been nothing. Just remembering it pisses me off.

Thank you for everything you did for me. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I’ll miss you.

Take care,

Jen

She signed it f**king Take care. What the hell? I don’t even merit a Love, Jen. She didn’t even acknowledge me by name.

“Have you talked to her? She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts,” I say, running a hand through my hair.

“I’ve tried. She hasn’t answered my calls or texts either.” She sounds downright exasperated. Great. The feeling’s mutual. “I’m worried too, you know. I didn’t want to take her to the bus station. I tried my best to convince her to stay.”

I know Fable’s telling the truth. She didn’t want Jen to leave either. “Let me know if you hear from her, okay? And I’ll do the same for you.”

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds good.” She sighs. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Colin. I’m just worried about her.”

“So am I.” I hang up before I say something really stupid and pitiful, glancing up at my open doorway to find my dad standing there, looking almost afraid to come inside.

Great. He’s the absolute last person I want to see. “Weren’t you leaving to go see Mom?” I ask.

Chuckling, he enters the room and settles into one of the chairs that sit across from my desk. “I’m taking off later today. She’s working.”