The Best of Fools (Jane Austen Book 2) (42 page)

"Some love stories just aren't meant for girls like you," Zoe said as we sat down on the couch with bowls of ice cream. "Seriously did you actually think a guy like that would stay with you? I mean, he could like have any girl he wants."

"Nothing like a nice dose of Zoe for a pick me up." I dug into my ice cream and exaggerated an eye roll. "The anniversary of the first day we met is in a week and I just need to stop talking about this now. I can't keep reopening wounds just to watch myself bleed to death. I need to let them heal so I can get on with life."

"I'm just being real with you. The guy was a sexy as hell and that sent him over the top."

"He was sexy to me, don't get me wrong, but he wasn't that hot or anything. He was normal."

"Then what does that make you?"

I laughed. "You're lucky I love you anyway, because the things you say are pretty damn messed up."

"Some people sugar coat a pile of trash, but I just like to call it trash."

"Are you calling me trash now?"

"No. I'm just saying you're average and he's hot."

"Well, I think hotness has nothing to do with anything right now. Alistair isn't here. So whatever, put your stupid chick flick on so I can understand why girls like to depress themselves even more by watching this stuff."

"It should bring you hope," she said, walking over to my DVD player. "I picked it out just for you."

"Oh yeah? What is it?"

"
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg
."

"Never heard of that."

"You'll love it."

The movie came to a close and I stared at the credits while Zoe stared at me. Did she honestly just make me watch that?

"So..." she pried.

"Are you trying to break me into a thousand and one pieces? Is a thousand not good enough for you?" I stood and took our bowls to the kitchen. "I think you need to find somewhere else to live."

She laughed and followed after me. "It was supposed to inspire you."

"Inspire my ass. " I pointed my spoon back to the television. "This is exactly why I can't stand romance movies."

"But it's realistic. It shows that your story is realistic, so it's not like it's your fault or anything."

"I never thought it was my fault," I said. "Oh, man. I need a long night of sleep with no dreams after that."

"You didn't like it?"

"Zoe." I brushed by her as I walked to the hallway.

"We could watch
Titanic
instead," she offered.

"Yeah. I'd rather take a shot to the head instead of the heart, thanks."

She laughed as she went into her room and I shook my head as I went into mine. I didn't bother closing my door. Zoe moved back in a few weeks ago and we were closer than ever. She was there and needed someone just as much as I did. Donovan and Han barely talked to me anymore. I mean, they did, but I couldn't always handle seeing them so happy together. Sometimes it was perfect and I was fine, other times everything would come rushing back and I couldn't bear to be in the same room with love like theirs.

Not that tragedies made me feel any better. What was Zoe thinking?

I plopped on my bed with my laptop and pulled up my emails, went through a bunch of ho-hum work stuff, and then decided to fill a few online orders, which I did from home at night since I didn't get as many online orders as I did in the store.

Business was perfect. I managed to make enough income to pay three employees, the lease, my rent, and even food. I wasn't rolling in the cash, but it was good and I knew it would be even better with some good marketing.

Three orders to fill. I packed the first two into a box, slapped on the mailing labels, and opened the third.

New Order from 1812 Online Store

The Joker/ DKT - Size 32, M

Bruce Wayne/DKT - Size 32, M

Alfred/EAG - Size 32, M

Note from buyer: Gift wrap, please. This is for my son. Please mail it to the shipping address for him, not the billing address. Thank you. And include this note if you could:

I found this store from the States and thought you would fancy it. If it's the wrong size, just return it for the right one.Tell Mum I said hello. I'll come visit soon. -Dad

SHIPPING ADDRESS:

Alistair Gladwyn

47 High Oakham Road

Mansfield, Nottinghamshire NG18

My eyes closed, then reopened. Yes, it was really him. The mailing label quivered in my hands. Memories upon memories flickered in and out. So many. Then came the question that tormented me for months.

Why?

Why didn't he call?

There are two ways of looking at this. One, I was crazy. And two, I was out of my ever-loving mind. I preferred the latter so that I didn't have to take credit for my actions. Just blame it on the lack of sense, right?

See. It goes like this and if you've ever been in love then you know what I'm saying. When you grow up with a bunch of little girls planning their weddings at age eight and you think you'll never get married, there comes this point in your life when you get kissed by someone you really love and who really loves you, and it's nice and all, but not enough to keep you up at night wondering when it will happen again. Then, as you're going about your life, someone else walks in and he's funny and charming and different and beautiful. He promises you this kiss and you're thinking right whatever, but then it happens. He kisses you and you know that whoever you loved before that ... it wasn't real love. Not like this love. You know and feel and experience so deeply the difference in this one person's kiss that you can't possibly imagine never tasting it again. I guess, long story short, what I'm trying to say is that love isn't about finding people we can live with. We can get along with anyone. Even live with people who hurt us. But it's that one person, that one single person in an entire six billion population, that you can't live without. It's that person who's worth living for and dying for. It's that person I loved.

And so, to summarize plainly, I could now understand Romeo and Juliet. And that's all I'll say about that.

The plane lifted off the ground just as I started to doubt myself. He clearly didn't want to talk to me. To the point of moving away and changing his number. His new flat wasn't even in the same town. And yeah, maybe I was crazy, but isn't drowning your life in poison crazy? All because living without Romeo is unbearable? I guess love makes you a little crazy and I admit, I felt weird and nervous and got up to go pee about forty times. I couldn't sit still and the woman next to me probably thought I had an intense fear of flying. I had a mild fear of flying, but standing in front of him scared me more. Simply because I didn't know what to expect. Or why he did what he did to me. Or if he would still love me. Or if he ever loved me at all.

That's the one that really freaked me out.

So, my flight landed at the East Midlands Airport at 7:21am Saturday morning, which was 2:21am my time. Originally I planned to go right to him, but my eyelids were heavy and I didn't want to drive a European car with tiredness looming over me, so I booked a room at a hotel near the airport and ... who was I kidding? I didn't sleep at all, but the rest helped. Plus the shower I took woke me up well enough to drive. Maybe with a complimentary coffee from the lobby I would be even better.

I finished up and stood in front of the mirror. I chose to wear my Dark Knight Trilogy Catwoman design. It was very similar to the outfit Anne Hathaway wore, but with my own twist. I tend to prefer asymmetrical designs, so the black dress was a little less tight, but still fitting, and had an asymmetrical pull from one shoulder to the other hip. I also wore the black tights, heels, and a wide-brimmed hat. But as I was looking in the mirror I thought maybe it was a little much. It leaned sexy and it was ultra classy, but I didn't bring anything else except my jeans and t-shirts.

I took a deep breath. "Just go," I said to my reflection. "Time to get this over with."

I grabbed a coffee before leaving and drove to Mansfield, which was way too close to the airport. Not super close, but not far enough to make it feel like I had enough time to prepare. Not that there could ever be enough time for such things. The rain started just as I turned on to Nottingham Road and by the time I turned left on High Oakham Road, his new street, it was pouring down.

I slowed down and squinted through the rain to read the numbers on the houses. The very nice houses. In a neighborhood. I expected an apartment, but these were real deal houses.

He bought a house?

Butterflies assaulted me. Yes, assaulted. It felt more like whacked out bats going to town inside of my stomach. I was excited and nervous and scared all at the same time. What if he slammed the door in my face? What if he was married to someone else? What if this wasn't even him? What if it was a different Alistair?

I never even thought of that.

And with my luck....

I slowed down and finally saw his house number. It was a large brick house. Two stories tall with pretty shutters and a nice garden. Big yard. Very well kept.

Breathe, Jane. Yep. You can do this and you WILL do this.

I parked and tried to slow down my breathing, but I couldn't focus. I watched the door and windows for any sign of life, worrying that I might be intruding into a new life he built for himself. I didn't want to upset him or his wife if he had one. I just wanted one last word from him. And a reason. I needed to know why he left. If it was deeper than our conversation. If it was me.

I opened the door and held my hat as I jogged through the rain to the front door. Frozen in place, my hands stayed at my sides as the droplets pelted my hat and soaked my shoes.

To knock or not to knock, that is the....

"Just do this already," I reprimanded myself and knocked loudly on the door. I gave three hard pounds and then stepped back as my throat closed up and my heart competed with the fast tap of the rain.

Definitely had my doubts. Definitely wanted to run back to the car. But definitely stood my ground.

The door opened.

She looked at me and I looked at her.

She looked nothing like me. Short blonde hair, longer in the front toward the shoulders. Trendy glasses and lots of makeup. No tattoos that I could see. Very professional. Mature. She looked more like a woman. More his age. Maybe that was it....