Only One Touch (Only One 4)

I look at Francis, whose phone rings. He picks it up. “Yeah, I’m with her now.” He looks at me. “It’s Trevor,” he says and then listens to what Trevor says. “How the fuck should I know?” he yells. “From the looks of her, she didn’t know anything.”

I reach for my phone, seeing the missed calls. Twenty-three calls from Nico. All this morning along with voice mails.

My hands shake, and I get up on auto pilot. I walk to my closet, taking down a bag. “What are you doing?” Francis asks.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I say, wiping tears away with the back of my hand.

“It looks like you’re running away.” He baits me and I shake my head.

“I guess you can say I’m running away.” I start putting things in the bag. “I have a couple of kids I need to go and meet,” I say, not even sure I know what I’m packing. I’m just throwing shit in my bag.

“That’s a good idea,” he says, his phone beeping again. “Did you know?”

“Are you kidding me, Francis?” I hiss at him. “Do you think I’d be involved with him? I was with him two days ago.”

“He didn’t tell you?” he asks again.

“Francis.” I say his name, and he holds up his hands. “I think I would remember him saying, ‘Oh, hey, Becca, come over to eat dinner because I’m getting married tomorrow.’”

“Are you going to talk to him?” he asks, and I stand here with my heart shattered in my chest. Literally, it feels like I’m walking on shards of glass with no shoes on.

“I don’t think there is anything that I can say to him,” I answer, and the pain rips through me again. My hand goes to my chest to stop the pressure. “I have nothing to say to him.”

“I mean, there are always three sides to a story,” he says, and I zip the bag closed.

“Pretty sure there are not three sides to someone getting married,” I say the words. I walk over to my phone and call Erika, who answers right away.

“Becca.” She says my name, and I hate that people are feeling bad for me. I close my eyes to stop the tears from coming, but they come anyway.

“Hey.” I try to talk without it sounding like I have a frog in my throat. “I need you to get me a private plane in the next hour,” I say.

“Where are we going?” she asks, and I know that she is going to be on the plane with me.

“I have a couple of kids in New York I want to see. Then I think we should head to Chicago,” I say. “Let’s start with New York and work from there.”

“I’ll get you a room at—” I stop her from talking.

“I want another hotel,” I say right away.

“I’ll fix it and send you the details for the plane,” she says, and I hang up the phone.

“You know he’s going to come looking for you,” Francis says, and I sit on my bed. My hands still tremble a bit when I see that he’s texted me.

“Why?” I don’t know what exactly I’m asking him. It’s a loaded question. Why did he do this? Why didn’t I see it? Why did I fall for him? Why did he break my heart?

“I don’t know him well,” he says, looking at me, “but something tells me he’s not going to stop until you hear him out.”

“Well.” I get up, looking at him. “You make sure when he does come around looking for me.” I pull my shoulders back. “Which I don’t think he will. But give him a message, will you? Tell him the contract is null and void.”

“Are you sure you really want me to give him a message?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not feeling friendly.”

“Well, tell him or don’t tell him,” I say as my phone pings. “Now, I have a plane to catch.”

“How pissed are you right now?” he asks, and I look at him.

“I’m beyond pissed,” I say. “But you should know that I loved him.” I don’t change it to I love him because I want to pretend I don’t. “So I’m more heartbroken than I’ve ever been. With that said, I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I know you will,” he says. “I’m going to go and get dressed, and I’ll drive you to the plane.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Erika already got me a car.” I stay strong until I hear the front door slam shut. I walk to the shower, and only when I’m in the shower do the sobs rip through me. I sink to the floor, my eyes closing, and all I can see is his face. His smile, his smirk, his frown, his glare. Him.