Love Left Behind (50 page)

"Hello?"

"Hello? Emma, is
that you?"

"Hi, Marcie.
Jackson's in the shower. He wanted me to answer his phone because he was expecting
your call."

"Great. This has
as much to do with you as Jackson, so I'll just relay the information to you.
We have the interview set up for this Friday at one o'clock. Does that work for
you?"

I hesitated. "Do
you think it's still necessary? Now that Candace has backed down, can't we just
let things die down on its own?"

Marcie's voice was firm
when she answered. "We really need this interview. Jackson's image was
damaged when people thought he cheated on Candace. Even though most people now
believe it's untrue, there's some lingering doubt. I don't want this affecting
Jackson's career."

I felt my stomach drop
at Marcie's explanation. The last thing I wanted was for Jackson's career to be
affected by this. I had been so focused on the negative articles about me that
I had forgotten the impact this would have on Jackson. I berated myself for
being so self-involved and not considering how this was affecting Jackson.

"Of course I'll do
it then. And Friday at one o'clock is fine with me. I'll check with Jackson."

"Great! I'm
emailing Jackson as we speak about the details of the location. He should have
it in his inbox before we hang up."

"Sounds good. Bye,
Marcie."

"Bye, Emma."
Marcie paused, not hanging up. "You've been the best thing to happen to
Jackson. I've never seen him so happy."

I thanked Marcie for
her kind words and disconnected the phone, feeling a rush of happiness.
Remembering that I had a client meeting on Friday afternoon and hoping that it
was close to where the interview was taking place, I opened Jackson's email on
his phone to see if Marcie's email had arrived yet.

I was unfamiliar with
Jackson's phone and realized I had mistakenly opened up his text messages
instead. I was about to close it when my heart stopped. Time seemed to freeze
as a sick feeling gathered in the pit of my stomach. My heart started beating
again, but it was at a frenetic pace. It was beating so hard that it felt like
it was going to burst out of my chest. I blinked, not wanting to believe that
Jackson had been texting Claire. But her name was on his phone, as clear as
day.

My hand trembled as my
thumb hovered over her name. I knew nothing would be the same after I opened
their conversation, but I had to know the truth. With a prayer that I would be
able to survive what I saw, I tapped on her name to open their texts.

Claire:
When do you want to meet?

Jackson:
Can you do Wednesday at 3pm?

Claire:
Yes. Do you want to meet at Andrews around
the corner of your old apartment?

Jackson:
No. Meet me at the Starbucks in Union Square.

My hand was shaking as
I read their texts. I had purposely blocked all information about Claire, but
my mother told me a while ago that Claire's mother had mentioned that she had
moved out of New York. Now I realized she had been in New York all along. Had
she and Jackson been screwing this entire time? Was this a replay of five years
ago, and I was the idiot getting cheated on again? Their texts were time
stamped earlier today. While I had been brimming with happiness, Jackson had
been scheduling a rendezvous with Claire.

My shock started to
wear off and I felt an incredible rage start to build in me. Jackson had
deceived me again. He had probably been deceiving me this entire time. He was
still sleeping with that slut, right under my nose. I wanted to scream and
curse, but it didn't seem strong enough of a reaction. The feelings roiling in
me were too strong, too sharp, too fucking painful to put into words. It felt
as if my heart was being cut out with a knife and I was forced to stand by and
watch.

"Was that Marcie,
sweetheart?"

I slowly looked up from
the phone, at Jackson's smiling face. I wanted to scratch that face, I wanted
to run to him and punch and kick him. For lying to me. For hurting me. It was
all so unnecessary. Why couldn't he have just left me alone?

Jackson's smile
vanished as he got a closer look at my expression. "What's wrong?"

I threw his phone at
him with all my might, watching it crash against the wall and break in two when
Jackson quickly ducked.

"What the hell was
that for?"

I stalked closer to
Jackson until we were inches apart. "You are a piece of shit."

Jackson grabbed my arm,
looking confused. "Emma! What's going on?"

I ripped my arm from
his grasp, laughing coldly although with a tinge of hysteria. "Is this
some sort of game to you? Let's see how much I can fuck over Emma? Is your life
so empty that you have to amuse yourself by making me believe you actually
cared?"

"For Christ's
sake, Emma! What are you talking about?"

"Claire."

The one word made
Jackson's face drain of color. He glanced at the broken phone on the ground and
he couldn't mask the guilt in his eyes. "Shit. Emma, I can explain."

I shook my head
frantically. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything from
you. I don't ever want to see you. Don't ever contact me again."

I turned to leave but
was pulled back abruptly by Jackson's hand on my arm. "Stop it! Emma, I
was just contacting Claire because I needed some answers. I needed to know why
she lied to me about you being married to Sean. I needed to know what she said
to you all those years ago when she told you about us. You wouldn't tell
me."

"Oh, so this is my
fault?" I spat out, feeling disgusted.

Jackson shook his head.
"No! That's not what I'm saying." He took a deep breath, trying to
calm himself. "Sweetheart, please. I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have
contacted Claire. But it was driving me crazy. I needed to know what she said
to you, why it was enough to make you not contact me all these years even
though you yourself admitted that you still loved me. The thought that we were
apart all these years when we didn't need to be - it was killing me."

"Congratulations,"
I said coldly. The pain was replaced with a numbness, as if my body were
protecting me, knowing that I couldn't handle the searing pain that had been
sweeping through me. "You can get all the answers you want from her. Maybe
you can discuss what went wrong this time too. It might have something to do
with the fact that
I don't believe a
fucking word you're saying!"

I screamed the last
part, the numbness melting away as anguish overtook me. I ripped my necklace
off, the delicate chain snapping with the force of my pull, and threw the
diamond pendant at him. I watched it bounce off his body and fall to the floor.

Jackson grabbed my other
arm so that I was forced to face him fully. He shook me, as if he were trying
to make me believe him by force.

"Emma, it's true!
Please! I shouldn't have contacted her, but don't make it out to be something
more than it is."

I looked at Jackson
with dead eyes, forcing myself to keep my head upright. "It doesn't
matter. It doesn't matter why you contacted her. It's enough that you did. Take
your hands off me. I never want to see you again."

"Emma, no."
Jackson's plea was anguished as he pulled me close, burying his face in my
hair. "Sweetheart, I love you. Please don't do this."

His mouth traveled to
my lips, kissing me tenderly but I refused to respond. I couldn't feel
anything. Jackson's kiss became harder when I didn't respond, becoming
desperate. The pressure was so hard that I dimly wondered if my teeth would cut
the inside of my mouth.

Jackson broke the kiss,
breathing hard. "Sweetheart?" He sounded uncertain and scared.

"Are you going to
force me or can I leave now?"

Jackson froze at my
words, his hands slowly sliding down my body until they dropped to his sides.
He looked stunned and I quickly backed away, needing space. I felt my
self-control starting to crumble and I was going to start wailing with grief
soon. I needed to get out of there before it happened.

I grabbed my bag that I
had dropped on the couch and rushed to the front door. I didn't look behind me,
not wanting any more memories of Jackson. I already had enough to haunt me for
a lifetime.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The next few days went
by in a haze. I functioned on autopilot at work, trying to keep the tenuous
grip I had on my sanity. A part of me expected Jackson to try and contact me,
but his silence told me everything I needed to know.

Somehow, I got through
the week without breaking down at work. Nights at home were a different story.
All I seemed to do was cry, and when I ran out of tears I would lay in bed, my
body wracked with trembles. I spent a good amount of time each morning trying
to cover the dark circles under my eyes and minimize the puffiness of my face,
but I knew I still looked like hell. I shut down all questions from Celeste and
Drew, not wanting to even think about Jackson. Marie knew to keep her distance,
only disrupting me when absolutely necessary.

Wednesday had been a nightmare
as I wondered whether Jackson and Claire had met up as planned. A sick part of
me wanted to go to Starbucks, to see if I could catch them in the act. But it
was too pathetic of a gesture and I kept my distance. Friday wasn't much better
as I wondered about the interview we had scheduled. What excuse would Marcie
give to the magazine for us backing out so abruptly? I was worried what the
reaction of the press would be if they got wind of our breakup.

Craig was still waiting
for me wherever I went, but I refused to accept his rides. He was reduced to
following me around as I jumped into cabs. I ducked into the subway one
morning, determined to lose him, but he was waiting for me when I ascended the
stairs at my destination stop. Unfortunately, he knew my routine by now and
seemed to magically appear everywhere I went. He ignored my frustrated pleas to
leave me alone, that he should speak to Jackson since he didn't seem to have
gotten the news that Jackson and I were no longer together. As much as I wanted
to yell and scream at Craig to leave me alone, I knew that I would just be
taking out my hurt and anger at Jackson on Craig. Craig was just trying to do
his job, although he seemed a bit misguided about the status of the current
situation. I decided the best thing to do was just ignore him.

I was relieved when
Saturday rolled around so that I could spend the weekend holed up in bed. I had
been obsessively searching Jackson's name online for any news, knowing it was
self-destructive but not being able to stop myself. Fortunately, for the sake
of my sanity, there didn't seem to be any news about him. So instead, I spent
hours staring at pictures of us that were posted on various gossip websites.
Jackson looked at me so lovingly in those pictures. I couldn't understand how
he could be so tender and sweet, yet betray me once again. I didn't understand
why he even bothered trying to restart our relationship when he was planning on
cheating with Claire again. I didn't buy his story about just wanting to talk to
her. I was done being naive.

I was disgusted with
myself that I still jumped every time my phone rang. I told myself it wasn't
because I wanted Jackson back, to have him give me some sort of explanation
that I could accept. It was because I wanted him suffering as much as I was, I
wanted him desperate to talk to me, to win me back. I wanted to believe that a
part of him truly meant all those words of love and tenderness that had dropped
so easily from his lips. That he was now regretting throwing our relationship
away.

But his silence
continued. It told me that I was expendable, that I had been fooling myself. If
the Jackson Reynard of five years ago couldn't be faithful to me, what made me
think that the Jackson Reynard of today could? I had witnessed women falling
all over him at Hydra, the subtle and not-so-subtle invitations they gave him
through suggestive looks.

I ignored the calls
from Trisha and my mother, knowing that I wouldn't be able to speak to them
without breaking down. I couldn't explain to them what had happened. I
especially didn't want to talk to Trisha. She would be nothing but sympathetic,
but I knew what she would be thinking. That I had let myself be tricked again.
Stupid, naive Emma. So desperate for Jackson's love that she was willing to let
herself get duped again.

I was in no better
shape on Monday morning, glaring at Craig when I saw him waiting for me outside
my apartment building. My hostility towards Jackson was translating into
rudeness towards Craig, even though I had told myself it wasn't Craig's fault.
I was about to pass by him without a second look when he stopped me with an
outstretched hand.

"Ms. Mills, I have
something for you."

I stopped, dropping my
gaze to his hand. He was holding an envelope towards me but instead of reaching
for it, I frowned.

"I don't want
it."

"Please, Ms.
Mills. I'm in a very...difficult position. Please take the letter, otherwise,
there's going to be hell to pay. And I'm going to be the one paying it."

My gaze softened at
Craig's pained look. I reminded myself once again that it wasn't fair to take
my anger out on Craig. I could only imagine how difficult it would be to work
for someone as unyielding as Jackson.

Craig looked relieved
when I took the letter, watching me shove it inside my purse. "Ms. Mills,
I hate to interfere, but I thought you should know that Mr. Reynard...he's not
doing well."

I shook my head, not
wanting to hear more. "I'm sorry, Craig. I'm sorry that you have to follow
me around when I'm sure there's more important things you could be doing. I
don't know why Jackson is insisting that you still trail behind me, but I don't
care at this point. And I certainly don't want to hear anything about
him." My heart screamed that I was a liar, that I was desperate for any
information about Jackson. But I ignored it. My self-preservation kicked in and
I knew I had to eradicate Jackson from my heart and mind again, no matter how
hard it was going to be. It was the only way I was going to survive.
Unfortunately, I was experienced in this matter.