The Perfect Game(72)

I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. And I’m so sorry for everything. I’ll never stop telling you how sorry I am.

But eventually he did stop.

It had been over two weeks since his last attempt to contact me. And as hard as it was to not respond to his texts, it was even harder to stop getting them. I wanted him to want me. I needed him to still need me. Because I was still so desperately in love with him, my heart ached with each beat it pumped.

Of course, Melissa knew. “Jesus, Cassie, you look like hell. When’s the last time you’ve eaten something other than toast? Or brushed your hair?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.” My voice was hollow, void of emotion.

“You need to eat, okay?” Melissa cocked her head to the side, her expression soft.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Which is exactly why you need to eat something,” she responded, which made no sense to me at all.

Jack’s name suddenly appeared on my cell phone. My body started to shake as my gaze swung around to meet Melissa’s.

“Jack?” she asked, her tone surprised. I nodded. “Don’t answer. Unless you want to. No, you shouldn’t.” Melissa fought with herself as I pressed Decline, sending his call to voice mail.

He’d stopped leaving voice mail messages around the same time he stopped texting. So I jerked my head back in surprise when the One new voice mail notification appeared on my screen.

I hesitated before pressing Send, tears already filling in my eyes.

His voice mail was short and to the point. “I know you hate me and never want to talk to me again, but I really need to tell you something.” He exhaled before whispering, “Kitten, please. I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.” Then he hung up.

I still loved him no matter how hard I tried to pretend like I didn’t.

“What did he say?” Melissa asked.

“He asked me to call him. Said he had something he needs to tell me. As if I can take any more of Jack’s news.” I shook my head, the tears no longer hesitating to fall.

“Well, shit. I wonder if Dean knows. Want to call him for the heads-up first?” she suggested.

“That’s actually brilliant, but I don’t think so. I’ll just call him and I’ll be right back.” I gave her a half smile before heading into my bedroom and closing the door behind me.

I scrolled through the missed calls list on my phone and pressed on his name before touching the Send button.

“You called,” he said as he answered.

“You said it was important.”

“I’m really sorry, but I wanted you to hear this from me.” Jack’s voice was so flat it sounded robotic.

I couldn’t take much more of this. My heart was so fractured already. “What is it now, Jack?”

“I asked Chrystle to marry me.” He choked on the words and I almost swallowed my tongue.

“You what? You’re kidding, right?” I instinctively looked at the calendar on my wall to make sure it wasn’t April first.

“It’s the right thing to do.”

I let out the biggest, loudest, most sarcastic ha! I could manage. “The right thing to do? How is marrying someone you don’t even know the right thing to do?” My head spun as a dizzy feeling overwhelmed me.

“I won’t be like my parents.” His voice faltered. “I have to be there for my kid.”

My voice softened when I heard his pain. “Jack, you’ll never be like your parents. But you don’t have to marry some stranger to prove that.” My lungs felt like they stopped functioning, and I forced myself to suck in a breath.

“It’s the right thing to do,” he repeated.

“You already said that.” I started wondering who he was trying to convince. “Jack, no kid should grow up with two parents who don’t love each other, let alone even know each other. This isn’t right!”

“I’m sorry, Cass. I’m sorry I’m such a fuck-up.” He sniffed.

“You’re not a fuck-up, Jack. But please, don’t do this.” I begged for him to see reason. “It’s one thing to have a kid with someone, but it’s another thing to marry them.”

“I already asked her,” he admitted reluctantly.

“What? Jack, no,” I said as the tears spilled. Breaking up was hard enough to deal with, but marrying someone else was truly putting the final nail in the coffin of us. “Have you talked to Marc and Ryan?” I asked through my desperation, assuming his agents would have the ability to talk logic into his clearly illogical mind.

“I have.”

“And?” I practically shouted. “What did they say? I’m sure they told you not to do this.”