You’ll never guess what happened last night. I slept with J, and I didn’t even know it! I feel like shooting myself. Don’t trust him if he calls you. Xx Brooke.
I sent the message, pulled on a baggy sweater that went all the way down to my knees, and then closed the window absent-mindedly. Thousands of thoughts raced through my mind, but they were nothing compared to the millions of feelings threatening to throttle me.
For a while, I stood in front of the window, the weight of the situation lingering heavy in the air. Eventually, I turned my attention toward the apartment building on the other side of the road. In front of it stood a couple with a little boy sitting on top of the man’s shoulders. They discussed something for a moment, and then the woman just smiled the kind of smile that signaled happiness. His lips melted into hers in a brief but intimate kiss, as though they were used to public displays of affection. My heart ached at the way she smiled proudly at her little family.
I will never have a family with Jett.
My baby will never know what a real family feels like, never ride atop Daddy’s shoulders in the sunshine.
The thoughts sat in the pit of my stomach like heavy rocks. While I had pushed Jett away, a part of me wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. That same foolish part of me kept hoping he wouldn’t give up on us so easily, wished he’d find a way to prove to me that he was an honest man.
A heavy sadness washed over me at the realization of how much I had believed in our future, how much I had looked forward to raising our child together—as a happy family. Now that it was over, we would be estranged parents, one poor and the other rich and successful. Someday, Jett would find someone else and marry her, and while the thought had been lingering at the back of my mind ever since we met, time hadn’t taken the sting out of it.
As I returned to the warmth of my bed, I realized I was still shaking from the fight. Too many things had piled up, but they were nothing compared to the bad feeling of impending doom. Nate was out, and with him free, I had no doubt Jett would be seeing him on a regular basis, just as he had before.
Ignoring Jett’s scent on the pillows, I leaned back and began to flick through my messages. The legal firm hadn’t replied. For a moment, I considered calling them again, then decided against it. For one, I was a professional and didn’t want to seem as though I was harassing them. And then I figured if they thought the matter important, they’d get back to me. I had nothing to lose by waiting a little longer.
My eyes rested on the wallpaper on my cell phone screen, a picture of Jett and me, laughing and grimacing at the camera. A sharp pang shot through my heart as I remembered that day in all its vivid glory. It was one of the many happy memories—too many to count. The first day of autumn, we had been sitting in the park, fooling around, capturing both the change in seasons and our blossoming love. Or at least my blossoming love. Not his. He was probably too busy thinking about screwing his ex.
Before I could change my mind, I deleted the picture and replaced the wallpaper with the image of a desolate winter landscape in the hope that the loneliness would empty my mind and the snow would gradually freeze over my feelings.
By midday, the entrance door opened, and footsteps thudded across the corridor. My pulse spiked, but there was no time to steady my nerves or hide. I knew it was my best friend. The way she hurried in, I almost expected her to shout, “Fire.”
Sylvie threw open the door, her first question hitting me before she even set foot in the room. “Please tell me I’ve been pranked, because someone just texted me that you slept with Jett.”
Her blonde hair was a mess, and her cheeks were flushed, as if she had been running a couple of blocks, which couldn’t be, because Sylvie never engaged in physical activity of any kind, unless it was to get a limited edition of shoes at half-price. I sat up and regarded her grimly as she sat on the edge of the bed, barely able to move in her fluffy, pink cashmere sweater, tight red pants, and dark brown high heels. In spite of her flushed face, she looked as if she had just stepped off a runway.
“I wish,” I muttered, “just as much as I wish I could kill myself this instant.” To my horror, a tear ran down my face.
“Oh my God,” Sylvie exclaimed in shock. “You didn’t!” Slowly, she shook her head in what I assumed was exasperation; that was understandable as I, too, was slowly growing exasperated with myself. “Why would you do that?”
Why indeed?
“Because I didn’t know it was him.” I raised my hand in defense, feeling defeated.
Her eyes widened. “But how...how could you not know it was Jett?”