Promise Me (31 page)

She really is the bestest friend ever. "Sounds like a plan."

"Awesome!" She stands up with a huge smile on her face and tells me to have a good night as she picks up her keys and leaves.

Keeping with my earlier theme, I stay away from any TV show that could possibly get me to think of him. This doesn't leave me with many options so I settle instead on Househunters on HGTV. It's mindless and good background noise while I open up my laptop and get some work done.

Taking a break from working, an hour later I open up my personal email account to see if my Mom has responded. I knew it! Her response to my telling her I was having an issue with Tyler is that she will be sending a care package. I email her back letting her know that we have stores here too, but knowing her she was probably at the post office first thing this morning.

Instead of closing up my email, my eyes go to scan over my inbox that is loaded to the hilt with spam then zeroes in on one email in particular. It says it was sent just after three o'clock this morning. Good to know the rat bastard was not able to sleep either. It gives me a small amount of satisfaction to know this but isn't nearly enough to appease the hollow I feel in the pit of my stomach.

My hand, as if detached from my body, poises the cursor at his email and before my brain and heart can catch up to its movements, opens it. My mouth goes dry and my tear ducts constrict when I read the first sentence. And even though I'm fully aware that I should stop this form of self-torture, I can't. I'll be the first to admit it; I'm weak and my own worst enemy.

Sabrina,

The words I'm sorry will never be enough. I've been able to talk my way out of every kind of mess I've ever made in my life up until now. This time I can't say it wasn't me or I didn't do it. I could explain how and why this happened, but it wouldn't matter. Just the memory of it is a constant reminder of how I lost you and how fucking stupid I am. I will never forgive myself for the pain I've caused you. For the rest of my miserable life, I will do whatever it takes to earn back your trust and your love. I know it's not going to be easy but I can't walk away from you. I did it once and I'll never do it again.

Love always,

Tyler

Each word hurts more than the last. Like a glutton for punishment, I read it over and over again to the point that I can probably recite it back to myself from memory. What catches my eye most of all is the "Love always" at the closing of his email. I want to believe the phrase means something but his actions spoke louder to me than any typewritten words could ever say. Now I want to kick myself for even opening the damn thing because the ugly cry is right around the corner. As much as my mind is being controlled by my heart, I attempt to veer it towards work instead of reading his email again by repeating in my head:
I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry.

I might be a little crazy. Because one part of me wishes I hadn't read his email and that he would just go away, while the other part of me wants to read it again and then pick up the phone to call him. That's the other thing that's kind of bugging me now… why hasn't he called? I know this for a fact since my phone has been on all day today and hasn't beeped or vibrated once. His silence made me think that maybe I didn't have to make any kind of decision at all. It appeared that he was giving up and cementing his status as a liar in my eyes. But then I see this email and I'm so pissed and hurt all over again. I shut down the laptop and focus my attention to the mindless drivel on TV for the next couple of hours until sleepiness takes hold, forcing me to climb into bed a little after midnight, before Julia ever makes it home.

The next day at the gallery is filled with meetings and goes by even quicker than the day before. Throwing myself into work was a brilliant idea. The second I have downtime he infiltrates my thoughts and it forces me to find something productive to do instead. So, needless to say, my office has never been tidier and my work has never been more caught up.

A few people from the office are heading out for Happy Hour and invite me to tag along. At first I say no because as much as I want to believe that I'm doing better, I know that lying in wait under the surface of my "everything is okay" exterior, lies a pile of heartbreak that I'm just putting off until I can properly deal with it. It isn't until Sarah pleadingly convinces me to stop by for a couple of drinks that I agree to go. Plus, it is a Friday night and I don't have to wake up early tomorrow anyway, so why not. Before I head out to meet up with them, I send Julia a text to see if she's interested in joining us.

So tired from last night, thanks anyway. Still on for beach tomorrow?

I grin and type out a "hell yes" response to the beach question then grab my keys to head on over to Cooper Ave in South Beach.

A few people ends up being more like twenty. Between all of us from the gallery and some significant others, we stake a claim at the far corner of the bar. We're packed like sardines in here and as I try to finagle myself to the actual bar to order another drink, I feel a man's hand grab onto my upper arm. Turning around to see the rest of what's attached to Mr. Arm Grabber, I come face to face with a semi-decent looking guy, but as soon as he opens his mouth to speak I smell the alcohol as if he had bathed in it.

"Who are you and where have you been all my life," he slurs.

Really? Men and their sorry ass one liners... it's really insulting to women everywhere.

I free my arm carefully and smiling, I point to the bar, hoping that he understands bar speak from someone that has no desire to talk to him. Turning around again to attempt my original task, he grabs onto my arm with a little more force.

"Come on, don't be such a bitch," he says with a sick smile on his face, clearly enjoying himself.

Before I can say anything back, Alex appears next to me. Smoothly, he puts his arm around my waist while keeping his eyes on Mr. Arm Grabber.

"Take your fucking hands off her." Alex's dead calm voice is even scary to me and I'm the one who's being rescued. If I was this guy, I would run for the hills. Drunken guy immediately lets go of me and puts his hands up as if to say, "no harm, no foul".

Retreating back to the hole he crawled out of, he says, "Sorry man, I didn't know she was with anyone."

"Are you okay?" Alex asks, dropping his arm from my waist and coming to stand in front of me.

"I'm fine," I say relieved, "Thank you for that."

Shrugging his shoulders as if to say it was nothing, he puts his hands in his pant pockets and grins. He looks over towards the bar to the group we belong to and then back to me before he says, "Come on, let's get you to a safer spot."

There's a rule somewhere that whenever someone puts a shot glass in front of you that you must drink it. When I go to grab what I think is my third shot of a very yummy concoction that tastes like a Jolly Rancher, Alex gives me a stern look.

"Slow down," he says in a fatherly tone.

"I'm totally fine," and I go to get up from my bar stool to show him that I still have my wits about me.

I teeter a bit and giggle at my attempt to try to stand straight when I know I'm officially a little tipsy.

"Okay, that's enough," he says through his crooked grin. "Let me drive you home."

"Pish posh, I can drive myself home."

His eyebrow rises when he laughs and says, "Did you just say 'pish posh'?"

"Yup, I did."

"Now I know it's definitely time to get you home. Let's go."

I keep on giggling as he maneuvers us through the crowded bar until we are outside. He tells me to stand by the door and wait while he goes to bring his car around. The first few droplets of rain start to fall on my head when Alex's car roars up to the curb and I get in before the deluge begins.

I stay silent and stare out the window at the fading lights of South Beach through the heavy rain and darkness when we get on the A1A. Maybe it's the alcohol or the general gloominess from the weather, but the thought of what I was supposed to be doing tonight and this weekend starts to play with my head. On the verge of losing it again in front of Alex, I start wishing that the car could move faster so I can just hide under my covers and cry in solitude. Doesn't help that the drive that usually takes about a half hour is longer tonight because of the heavy downpour, but we finally arrive and luckily it's without one tear shed.

Alex pulls up behind a car I don't recognize already parked in the driveway next to Julia's. I'm about to put a kibosh on her alone time with whoever it is she's got in there. Doesn't really matter, since I plan to go right to bed anyway.

I look over at Alex, who, God bless him, has put up with my best ever mute impression, and say thank you when just over his shoulder I make out two people at my front door. It's hard to discern who's who since the window is covered with rain, but I know one of them has to be Julia. It's not until the other person takes a step back and looks over at Alex's car that it registers who it is. My head that was clogged with alcohol is clearing up fairly fast when I see this figure striding towards us still sitting in the car.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

"What's wrong?" Alex asks, and he turns around to look at what's caught my attention.

Before he turns his head back, I'm already out of the car and walking to where Tyler is standing in the middle of my front yard in the pouring rain. He runs his hand through his hair and goes to take a step towards me, but I put my hands up in defense.

"Don't come any closer," I say through the tears that are intermingled with the rain that's pelting my face. "Why are you here?"

He looks tired and miserable, evident by the five o'clock shadow on his face. Good, I hope he's as miserable as I've been. I want him to feel just an ounce of the suffering I've had to deal with since he betrayed me. He goes to open his mouth and say something, when from behind me I hear a car door slam and I know that the shit has officially hit the fan.

"Who the hell is this?" Tyler asks as he eyes Alex up and down menacingly.

Alex ignores him completely and tugs at my hand to pull me to the front door where Julia is still standing with her hands on her hips.

I go to walk by her when under her breath, so only I can hear, she says, "See what I mean when I said I have no idea what to expect when you come home anymore."

"Julia, please," I say a little too defensively. She tries to hide the smirk on her face but not doing a good enough job, it's obvious she finds humor in even this mess.

Tyler is right behind us and only gets one foot in the house when Julia is on him like a rabid dog standing in his way. "I told you, get the hell out of here! She doesn't want to see you!"

"Let her tell me that herself," Tyler yells over Julia's voice.

I sink down onto the couch and cover my face with my hands to shield myself from the scene playing out before me, when I hear Alex's calm voice over both Julia and Tyler's.

"Take it easy."

Tyler's voice is beyond agitated when I hear him say, "Get your fucking hands off me."

A scuffling noise makes me pop my eyes up to see Tyler right in Alex's face looking like he's about to tear his head off. Julia tries to get in the middle of them by patting Alex's shoulder and saying, "Alex, calm down."

"Alex? This is Alex?" Tyler asks out loud to no one in particular but looking over at me still frozen in place on the couch. "I thought you said there was nothing going on."

Julia answers for me at the top of her lungs when she finally gets enough space in between them. "There isn't anything going on, you jackass! He's just her boss and a friend! And who the fuck are you to even ask who he is anyway? The last time I checked your dick was in some random skank!"

Oh my God! That's it! I can't take another second of this craziness! The alcohol completely worn off and my head feels like it's going to crack open when I wipe my face and go to stand up. All three of them shut up and turn to look in my direction as I walk towards them, dripping wet still from the good soaking I got a few minutes ago.

I look into Tyler's eyes, which is a huge mistake, because I see the pain I feel in my heart looking right back at me. I knew even ten years ago those eyes of his would be the death of me and here they are, boring holes into the depths of my soul that is aching to be comforted by the same person who destroyed it.

"Give us a minute," I say quietly keeping my focus on Tyler.

Julia quickly gets in front of me. "Listen girlie, if you think for one minute I'm going to leave you alone with this piece of shit, you've got another thing coming."

"Julia, I appreciate it but I'll be fine... I need to talk to him." I hear myself but it's like I can't believe it's me I hear.

"I don't like this," she says as she steps aside and looks over at Alex. "Alex, I need you to stay here just in case I need someone to kick his ass."

Alex's mouth curls up when he goes to move by Julia and says, "Doesn't look like you need any help, but I'll stay just in case."

"Well? Go ahead and talk to him," Julia says. "We're not leaving."

I roll my eyes at her and she gives me the "I don't think so" look while putting her hand on her hip. I motion for Tyler to follow me instead to my bedroom for the privacy that we require to have any kind of conversation. He follows me in and walks past me as I close and lock the door behind me.