The Perfect Game(73)
“They pretty much said exactly that.”
“Jack. If everyone is telling you the same thing,” my breath hitched, “we can’t all be wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter. I refuse to continue the fucked-up cycle my parents started. We’re getting married in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” I could barely say the words aloud.
“Chrystle doesn’t want to be showing in the wedding pictures.”
I hated her. Right when he made that statement, I felt pure hatred toward this strange girl. How was some random chick getting to marry the one guy I’d loved in my entire life?
“Kitten?”
“Don’t…call me that,” I said, my breath shaking.
“Cassie.” His voice wavered. “I never meant for this to happen. I never imagined marrying someone who wasn’t you.”
Resentment replaced the sadness coursing throughout my body. “How is that supposed to make me feel? Huh? You can’t say that to me! It’s not fair, Jack. I can barely get through the day without breaking down.”
“I’m sorry, Cassie, but you’re not the only one hurting here. You’re not the only one who has to try to make it through each day. I lost us too, ya know?”
I felt the breath I was holding escape with a whoosh as I struggled for air. “I don’t know how to get over you.”
“I’ll never get over you.”
“Then don’t do this. Jack, please don’t marry her,” I pleaded, my voice breaking.
“I have to.”
“You don’t have to!” I screamed into the phone and he didn’t respond.
Melissa barged into my room after hearing my raised voice, her face contorted in confusion and sympathy. I waved her over, not wanting her to leave, so she positioned herself next to me on the bed with her back leaning up against the wall.
“Do you still love me?” I asked him, squeezing my eyes shut.
“I’ll love you until the day I stop breathing,” he answered, his voice cracking.
“This isn’t how our story was supposed to go, Jack. We weren’t supposed to end like this.”
“You think I don’t know that? Our story wasn’t supposed to end at all.”
“I guess we’re really over.” I tried to accept the finality of it all.
“If I had the power to take it all back, I would. I’d give anything to undo this.”
I broke down. I bawled uncontrollably into the phone, my misfortune spilling out in teardrop form.
“Please don’t cry, Kitten.” His voice shook.
“Don’t call me that any more. You don’t get to call me that any more.” I could barely speak for sobbing.
“You’re right. I should probably go.”
“Good…bye, Jack,” I moaned before pressing End, not waiting to hear another word. I dropped my head into my hands, my tears soaking the comforter.
“What was that? What’s happening, Cassie?”
“He’s getting married.” I could barely choke the words out.
“He’s doing what?” she shouted, her face angry. “Why?!!”
“He says it’s the right thing to do.”
“I’m calling Dean.” Melissa shot up from my bed.
“What? No! Why?”
“Because someone has to talk some sense into that idiot and it can’t be you!” She stomped out of my room.
My world went black and the next thing I knew, Dean was sitting at the foot of my bed, clearly uncomfortable with the way I carried on. Even with my face buried in my pillow, my muffled wails were loud enough to wake the dead. He tried to comfort me by patting my calves, and I turned my head to look at him before swatting his hands away.
“Say something, Dean,” Melissa insisted, jabbing at his shoulder.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Make her feel better. Tell her you talked to Jack. Something!” Her voice sounded so frantic.
I jerked my head up at the mention of his name. “You talked to Jack?” I choked out, my chest heaving.
“Yeah.” He frowned.
“And?”
“He’s completely irrational. I can’t talk any sense into him at all,” he admitted, his voice frustrated.
“What about his agents? I mean, what good are they if let him go through with this?”
“They tried, trust me. I guess I should be thankful they got him to agree to a pre-nup,” he said and lifted one shoulder.
“They did? That’s good.” I sniffed.
“They tried to get him to wait. They told him to get confirmation that the baby was his, but you know Jack,” he said with a huff.
I nodded with understanding before allowing my head to fall back into my pillow.