Fake Marriage Box Set

Chapter Thirty-Six

Quinn

When I got home, I quietly carried all of my boxes back in the house and stacked them in the hallway, not wanting to deal with unpacking. There was a dismal pain in my chest, and I knew that feeling all too well. If I didn’t head it off, it would eventually grow and grow until I could no longer control it, and I dipped back into a terrible depression. I took a deep breath and grabbed my gardening gloves from the table by the door. I headed outside and knelt down in front of the flower bed, beginning to pull weeds, and trying to drive away the nonstop thoughts of what I had lost. My garden looked terrible, weeds growing everywhere, anything that I planted to bloom in fall already dead and withered away, and the soil dry as a bone. I had allowed my garden to be destroyed when I just up and left to help Luke get Jake back. Part of me was upset by it, but the other part of me was glad I had something to tend to, the garden being a source of comfort and therapy for me through the years. I was needing the soothing sensation that my hobby provided so I took a deep breath and went to work, trying not to think about anything except the weeds in front of me.

I pulled and pushed, throwing remnants of my garden over my shoulder as I got the frustration in my heart out of my system. However, it didn’t seem to be working. No matter how many weeds I pulled, no matter how many plants I mended, my frustration grew higher and higher in my chest. I pulled myself back up onto my knees and wiped my face with the back of my arm, feeling the sweat I hadn’t even realized I had worked up. I looked around at what I had done, realizing that I had completely emptied my garden, not caring what I was pulling, just trying to force the anger out of my stomach.

I started to pull again, figuring I had destroyed this much, I might as well continue. All the while I was replaying every moment of my time with Luke and Jake through my mind. I thought about Luke’s gorgeous smile, his laugh, and the way his hands moved over my body late at night when we were all alone. I thought about Jake and how his eyes would light up every time that he saw me and how he would run across the room and jump straight into my arms. I thought about every meal, every laugh, and every amazing moment of my time at Luke’s house. It was miserable and heartbreaking, and all I could seem to do was to continue to torture myself over the family that I had for one shining second before it was all ripped away from me again.

I let go of the roots and sat there with my head down, facing the ground. Tears trickled down my cheeks, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I leaned back and lowered myself onto my ass, pulling my gloves off and pulling my knees to my chest. I reached up and wiped the warm tears from my cold cheeks and shook my head, realizing that no amount of gardening was going to fix what was happening inside of me, at least not that day. I felt broken, empty, and completely and utterly alone. It was miserable, and I knew that in the end, I had done it to myself. I had fallen in love with the idea of that family before I had even accepted Luke’s offer, and then I tried to kid myself to think differently. I felt like a complete fool.

“I see that you are back,” a familiar voice stated from behind me.

I took in a deep breath and rubbed the rest of my tears away before turning around with a forced smile to see Steve standing behind me. Slowly my smile faded, though, as I noticed that he wasn’t smiling back, but instead looked absolutely livid to see my face. I cleared my throat and pulled myself up on my knees, trying to get up to approach him, but he put his hand out, stopping me in my tracks. He shifted in his stance, his eyebrows pushed close together. He folded his arms across his chest and cleared his throat.

“Well, it looks like your engagement didn’t work out after all,” he said, angrily.

I sat there staring at him, not knowing what to do or what to say. I had completely forgotten about Steve, and everything that I had told him before I left. I didn’t think for a second that I would have to justify my lack of relationship to anyone, but then again, I hadn’t told anyone but Steve about where I was going.

“It doesn’t surprise me,” he continued, as he shook his head. “I don’t know how anyone could be engaged to you. You are nothing but a selfish, condescending bitch.”

I gasped and recoiled as if he had reached out and slapped me with his bare hand right across my face. Instead, he used his words, slapping me right in the pride and the heart, not understanding what I had just been through. He was angry because I had refused him, because he felt like he had been led on when none of that was ever my intention. I had intended on being nice to him, and one day explaining that we were better off as friends. I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have put that off as long as I had.

“It’s no big surprise,” he said, angrily. “I’m one of the nice guys, and the nice guys always finish last. I didn’t have a six-pack or huge biceps. I didn’t treat women like shit or try to use and abuse them, so obviously I wasn’t worth taking a second look at. You had a really good guy right here, just steps away, ever since Brian left you, but you looked right past me. I was there for you, Quinn, and all you did was toss me to the side like I didn’t mean anything to you. Now it’s all ruined, everything that could have been there between you and me is gone, and there is no getting it back. You are sitting here so worried about the fact that someone else broke your heart, but what you don’t realize is that you have been doing that to me this entire damn time. You are a hypocrite, and I wish that I had never been there for you in the first place; you don’t deserve it. You are now feeling the karma that you were owed for pushing me away and leading me on for all of these years. I hope it hurts, Quinn, I hope it hurts really badly. This time, though, please don’t come looking for my sympathy, because I don’t have any for you.”

I sat there completely stunned by Steve’s outburst, not knowing what to do or say. I didn’t realize that I had hurt him that badly, and suddenly it all made sense. I hurt him like Luke hurt me, the only difference being he didn’t live in my home and fall in love with a child. He was there day in and day out hoping for a sign, just like I had with Luke, and then I dumped on him, leaving him in the dust at the promise of something greener. I was such an asshole. He stomped off toward his house, pausing to push over a huge ceramic planter that plummeted hard and shattered across the ground.

I jumped in surprise and continued watching as Steve walked to his front door, entered, and slammed it behind him. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed through my chest and I looked around momentarily before bursting into tears, not knowing what to do or say in that situation. I was completely beside myself, and I was sobbing so hard that I felt like I couldn’t even breathe. I reached around me, trying to find something to help me stand up. I crawled over to the steps and grasped the railing, pulling myself to my feet and lowering my head down until my forehead pressed against the cold metal. I continued to sob uncontrollably before looking up and heading for my front door. I carefully pulled myself up the stairs and turned the door handle, pushing my way into my home and shutting the door behind me. I leaned my back agai

nst the wood and tipped my head backward, closing my eyes and feeling the tears stream down my face.

I stepped forward, grabbing onto the railing of the stairwell and pulled myself slowly up the stairs, stopping every few feet to try to catch my breath. When I reached the top of the stairs, I looked up at my bedroom in front of me, familiar and comforting. I ran into the room and threw myself onto the bed, my sobbing reaching a fevered pitch as my tears soaked the comforter beneath my face. There was no rhyme or reason to the sobbing that ensued, and my mind raced through everything that happened over the last six years.

Brian’s face flashed through my mind, and I cried for him, for the marriage that I was unable to hold on to, for the pain that he made me feel, for the insignificant person that I allowed him to turn me into. I cried for his change of heart, for the fact that it was so easy for him to move on and marry someone else. I cried for the jealousy I felt that he was able to have a family and be a loving father when he never cared for the child that we lost together. I cried for that entire time spent on a man who never truly loved me.

My tears continued as my mind moved to my baby, that sweet child whose lifeless body I held tightly in my arms for only a moment before they took him away. I cried for every memory I never got to make with him, and every regret I forced onto myself, not understanding what I had done to deserve the death of my child. The tears of mourning once again sprung from my eyes, and I clutched my chest, not knowing how I could continue to survive the pain that it felt to lose a child. I couldn’t move past it, no matter how hard I tried, and it never got easier. I could still see his beautiful little face like it had happened yesterday and I ached in wanting for that child.

As I thought about my child, Jake’s sweet face popped into my mind and I realized that there was a good chance I would never see that little boy again. He had started to heal a broken part of me that I never thought could be healed. He filled that bleak emptiness that was billowing from my chest. And his father, well, Luke had filled another place in my heart. I never thought I could actually fall in love again. He made me feel comforted, content, and happier than I ever had before. He made me believe that there were second chances, even for a woman as broken as I was.

I cried for all of those things, but that was not all. I cried mostly for me, and for the torment that I could never seem to be free of.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Luke

I sat at the diner for the second day in a row, staring down at the bandage wrapped around the burn I acquired from trying to make scrambled eggs for the second day in a row. Jake was happy, humming to the music overhead as he packed in the pancakes and drank his chocolate milk, a combination I knew was going to send him off the sugar deep end, but I didn’t really mind since he was going back to his mother’s in about an hour anyway. Life without Quinn fucking sucked; I couldn’t deny it any longer. It seriously had only been one day since she left, but I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t sleep a wink Saturday night, and when I woke up in the morning, I found the silence of the house overwhelming. I needed to hear the tapping of her bare feet across the tiled kitchen floor. I needed to smell the sweet scent of food in the kitchen, and most of all I wanted to feel her in my arms, her head snuggled against my shoulder and the smell of lavender and vanilla wafting into my nose. I missed her, that was just the plain truth about it.

I wasn’t the only one sad about it either. Jake immediately broke into tears when I revealed the news to him, and he spent all of Saturday sulking in front of the television. He went to bed without a story, slightly rough in the way that he spoke to me. I didn’t tell him what had happened, but I could tell that he already knew it was my fault that our Quinn was gone. In the morning, he stared at me trying to cook, rolling his eyes and going into his room when I announced another trip to the diner. The boy was not going to cut me any slack, and I didn’t blame him, nor did I deserve any. I felt like complete shit for disappointing my son, and even worse for disappointing Quinn.

I had fucked everything up, not realizing what I had until it was gone. I had lucked into finding Quinn, knowing full well there wasn’t another woman out there nearly as amazing, or as perfect for me. And if there was, there was no way she would be interested in me, much less fall in love with me and want to be part of my family. I threw away something amazing that I never appreciated, even when I knew that I shouldn’t have. On top of that, I broke Quinn’s heart, making me the biggest villain of all. I felt like the world’s biggest heel, the biggest asshole to ever walk into Quinn’s life. It made me question everything about myself and how I had treated every woman I had ever been around. No wonder women were starting to not be interested in me at all; I was a self-absorbed asshole who couldn’t get his head dislodged from his own ass. In the meantime, I was breaking hearts, hurting people’s feelings, and crushing the one woman I had ever truly loved with everything in my soul. I was disgusted with myself and with my actions ever since my divorce was final from Sarah. I had turned into a man who I could no longer even recognize, and that was a terrible thing.

Still, as I sat there staring at my son, wondering what he would think of me as he grew older, I found hope. It was tucked away in the last place it could hide inside of me, and I thought about Quinn, and how I felt about her. Maybe, just maybe, if I threw myself at her feet, admitted to everything that I had been thinking all along, maybe I could get it all back. I knew the chances were slim, but I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wondering what if.

When we were done with breakfast, I paid the tab and smiled at Jake who was moping around, even after consuming copious amounts of sugar. We walked to the truck, and I buckled him into his seat and pushed the hair off his face. I loved that kid so much, and I felt like the worst man in the world for disappointing him.

“Look, Jake,” I said, with a sigh.

“Dad,” he said, putting his hand on mine. “Just tell her how much you love her. I know she loves you and she loves me. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so good to us. Just tell her how you feel.”