What was he even saying? My heart pounded.
“Don’t say anything, please. Just take some time and decide if you can still deal with the mess that is me. Because I am. Nothing is simple and making this work won’t be easy. Maybe you won’t be up for what’s waiting, or the challenges we face, but I hope you are.”
I was stuck. Unable to move. What was happening here?
He drew away, the move followed by jingling. “This is for you.” He set an envelope on the bed and placed his keys on top. “Look at it when you’re ready.” He brushed back my hair, his warm fingers lingering against my face as he leaned in and kissed my lips, then my cheek. “Bye, my beautiful Mare. Take care of yourself.”
Moments later, my front door closed behind him.
Chapter 15
Just because I’d poured innumerable ounces of booze into my system, and now suffered the worst hangover in recorded history, it didn’t give me a free pass on work. My boss showed great understanding during those confusing months after my separation from Kyle and submitting her to another round of abject depression courtesy of Jakob Cavallaro would be unfair.
When I entered the kitchen an hour after her brother’s departure, fully dressed and ready—well, sort of ready—to tackle the day ahead, Luci eyed me while I fumbled around grinding espresso beans and frothing milk for my morning latte.
“What did he say?” she asked.
So. Not passed out on the couch. More like faking, completely aware that her brother had returned to the scene of his crime. Maybe she’d lurked in the hallway with a glass pressed against my bedroom door. Uh-uh. No way would I explain or relive those final sad moments. Anyway, I’d cried myself out in the shower, eventually pulling myself together so I’d arrive at work before eight in a semi-respectable state. “None of your damn business.”
“Who’s Christophe? Have you been sleeping with him too?”
“Also not your business.”
“It is when you’re cheating on my brother.”
“I’ve never cheated on your brother. Ever.” I jangled the extra keys that had so recently been Jake’s, yanked open the drawer of the ornate side table, and dropped them inside. “Anyway, cheating implies a relationship. One without secrets and lies and sneaking around. One where my boyfriend treats me as more than his bed warmer.” For good measure, I slammed the drawer.
“Then leave my brother alone. I take it all back. I don’t want you as my sister. Not anymore.” The little meddler grabbed her purse and scurried toward the foyer, muttering under her breath. Moments later, the door slammed behind her.
“Of course, idolization of the asshole. He can do no wrong.” Nothing had changed with Luciana Cavallaro, except now she despised me twice as much.
I packed my lunch, sniffling as I sucked back my latte, and then followed it up with a double shot of espresso, using the strong brew to wash down two acetaminophen tablets, fuming at the injustice. Fighting the searing pain that made it almost impossible to breath.
Finally, I wrapped my arms around myself and slid to the floor, curling my knees to my chest, letting it pour out in heavy sobs, gasping for air.
“Sweetie.” Beth’s warm embrace was welcome as she hugged me and rubbed my back. She peered at me through bleary eyes, her hair in disarray. “Oh, girl, you look rough. Call in sick.”
“And sit here all day stewing about him?” I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.
The only thing that might keep me sane was focussing in on work and zoning out on the unopened letter in my bag while ignoring my confusion over Jake’s actions. Ignoring the ache caused by the attack from his little sister as she informed me I was no longer welcome in her family.
And Jake. I love you, and I hope this will work, but here are your keys, and see ya later? Crap. Utter nonsense and complete bullshit. Hot and cold. Here or there. In or out. Over and done.
“Amara?” Beth handed me a box of tissue. “Are you going to be okay?”
Better get used to that question, yet again. Tomorrow, I might just beg for that day off and take another one of Heather’s yoga classes, calming diffuser blend and all. Who knew? It might actually work this time. It might drag me through the worst of another heartbreak.
Maybe it would get me over Jake. Not that I had a choice.
By the end of my shift, I was ready to drop, but I only had myself to blame. To make matters worse, I received an email from my boss, asking me to see her before I started work the next morning. Stepping things up would be a good idea or, based on my recent troubles, my job might be in danger.
I trudged down the street, making a brief stop at my favourite family owned Indian restaurant to pick up dinner, mildly excited at the thought of a quiet evening at home. After I cleaned up the destruction from last night, of course.
To my surprise, a soothing silence and lemony freshness surrounded me as I set my keys on the tray inside my door. The evidence of last night’s wallowing had disappeared without a trace. Every dish, crumpled napkin, snack bag, and sticky Margarita puddle.
Beth, no doubt. That wonderful woman. Thanks to her, I could relax, enjoy my evening meal, and nurse my vague, lingering headache.
After stopping for a glass of ice water, I carried the takeout into the living room. Better forgo the wine habit tonight. In my current state, I’d down the entire bottle and pass out on the sofa.
The city lights twinkled from across the water as
