Irresistible Desire (A Savannah Novel) (9 page)

His breath is erratic and
his face flushed, “Please Savannah, don’t do this… don’t run away
from me. We can talk about this, I’ll do anything to fix this, just
please don’t go.”

I don’t know what comes
over me, but before I know it my hand is cracking against his right
cheek with a loud slapping sound that echoes throughout the small
elevator. My hand must be burning, yet with the adrenaline and pain
of the night, I feel little more than a tingling sensation. Logan’s
eyes grow wide and his mouth sits open, but nothing is coming
out.

“Goodbye Logan” I manage to
spit out at him as I shove him away from the doors, to my surprise
he stays back and watches the doors shut in front of him. I lean
against the wall and slowly slide to the floor, pulling my knees up
to my chest and dropping my purse and shoes drop to the floor with
a thud. Wrapping my arms around my knees I cry the entire ride, my
shoulders shaking vigorously as I sob for what feels like an
eternity. Finally the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide
open. I slowly climb to my feet, grabbing my shoes and purse from
the floor. I wipe away my tears, smooth my hair and try to regain
my composure.

As I step out into the
hallway I am grateful to see the lustful couple from earlier have
departed. I look around but there is only a bellhop, everyone is
back in the ballroom, drinking, dancing and mingling without a care
in the world. I stand in the entrance of the place Logan and I
first met, where he proposed to me and then betrayed me and now the
place our relationship ended. Forever. Who knew one building could
hold so many good and bad memories at the same time?

When I arrive home I’m
relieved to notice that Brooklyn is still out partying. I don’t
feel like talking to anyone right now, all I want to do is curl up
into a ball and disappear. Today went from being the most amazing
day of my life, to the worst, in a matter of a few hours. How could
I be so completely and utterly stupid, to not know that Logan was
cheating on me? I don’t even want to know how many women there have
been. Now all the odd behavior from tonight is starting to piece
together and make complete sense. All the models from Logan’s
agency giving me death glares, I can pretty much guess that he’s
slept with every single one of them. Thank God we always use
protection, who knows what kind of diseases any of them could have.
I shiver just thinking about the possibilities.

That Cara girl did me a
favor, at least I found out now and not after we were married or,
heaven forbid, started a family. Would he have always been this
way? Deceitful and unable to commit to monogamy. Did he plan on
marrying me and continuing to have numerous affairs with all these
women? Would he have always had the desire to have sexual relations
with other women? I don’t understand if it’s just about sex, I was
more than willing to have sex with him any time he wanted
to.

He is the one who always
seemed distant, only getting together during the week for lunch and
only being together intimately on the weekends. Was it because he
was sleeping with all these other women during the week, that he
had no desire to be intimate with me? Had he kissed them
passionately and made love to them, the way he did with me? My
stomach is starting to knot up again and my lips begin to feel
dirty. I wipe forcefully at them in an illogical attempt to rid
myself of all Logan’s pain. Just thinking of all the women he has
kissed alongside, it’s sickening. I jump up and run to the
bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time. I throw up
violently until my eyes throb, my throat burns and my stomach feels
completely empty.

I quickly undress and toss
my dress across the bathroom before turning on the shower so hot it
was almost scalding. I needed to wash away the filth that I felt
all over my body. The way Logan has made me feel, dirty, used and
betrayed…I don’t know if I can ever get rid of this feeling. I
stand under the water, scrubbing my body profusely until my skin is
raw, then slowly slide to the floor of the bathtub as the water
beats on my head. I could barely tell the difference between tears
and water as they drizzle over my body and wash down the drain. I
remain like this until the water turns cool.

I fall asleep as soon as my
head hits the pillow, but toss and turn all night, unable to get
the images of Logan and that woman out of my head.I can hear her
laughs echoing in my head, tormenting me. I finally fall into a
deep, dreamless sleep about six and wish never to wake
up.

The front door closes,
waking me up and I hear Brooklyn’s heels clinking across the living
room floor. I hold my breath as I listen to her walk around the
house and finally let the breath out when I her bedroom door
closes. I look at my clock to see it’s almost noon - she must have
stayed out all night. This works out well for me because she’ll
sleep the entire day, giving me time to try and wrap my head around
everything that happened last night. I don’t think I can handle
talking to her right now. I grab my cell phone from my night stand
and turn it on. I had turned it off in the cab last night as Logan
was continuously calling and texting me. He was not giving up on
reaching me, I discovered quickly. I had twenty text messages,
twelve voice mails, numerous emails to my Facebook, twitter and my
personal email inbox. I didn’t want to hear or read any of his
excuses and apologies, so I delete everything without giving it a
second thought.

I instantly regret turning
my laptop on, as soon as my internet opens up I see the news
headlines are filled with “breaking news” headlines announcing my
engagement to Logan Sanders. Pictures from last night are plastered
all over the internet, me looking so shocked, excited and in love.
When I log into my Facebook, my notifications are flooded with wall
posts of congratulations. The whole situation just went from bad to
worse as I realize I’ll have to make a statement to the press about
the engagement being called off. Nothing in my life can ever just
be private! I slam my laptop closed and begin repeatedly punching
my pillow, shoving my face into it I scream until my lungs
ache.

“Screw you Logan Sanders!
All your stupid sluts too,” I scream into the pillow and bang my
fist repeatedly onto my mattress, trying my best to let out my
frustrations without alerting Brooklyn, only a few feet away, “I
hate you! I fucking hate you for doing this to me!” I continue to
scream for a good five minutes until my throat was hoarse. I feel a
small amount of relief wash over my body from releasing pent up
frustrations, even if it wasn’t actually at Logan, to whom every
word was intended.

I spend the rest of the
afternoon sitting outside on our patio, drinking an entire bottle
of wine. It was seven by the time Brooklyn comes strolling out,
finding me drowning my sorrows. I’m just finishing my last glass of
wine and feel thoroughly trashed, even more so than I did last
night on six glasses of champagne.

“Brooklyn…I am sooo happy
you are finally up, now I don’t have to drink alone.” I slur at her
as I lay sprawled out on the outdoor lounge.

“What the hell happened to
you? Did aliens come down and invade your brain Savannah?" You look
utterly fucked-up right now,” Brooklyn blurts out as she runs over
to where I’m sat and plops down at the foot of the lounge. “Why are
you downing an entire bottle of wine? You never drink this
much…EVER.” I see panic consuming her eyes as she stares into
mine.

“Well if you insist on
knowing, I got engaged to Los Angeles' biggest man whore last
night,” I wave my wine glass around in front of me dramatically
pointing towards the Los Angeles skyline that’s twinkling in the
night sky in front of us. “My romantic night turned out to be…well,
not so romantic…I guess you could say.”

“What the hell are you
talking about, Savannah? What happened last night? What do you mean
you’re now engaged to the Los Angeles’ biggest man whore? You have
my head spinning, I need answers...now! No riddles Savannah, just
spit it out already, you’re seriously scaring me!” She runs her
fingers through her hair and looks like she’s about to pounce on me
if I don’t tell her what’s going on as soon as possible.

I pull myself up on the
lounge and fold my legs behind me; running my finger around the
brim of my wine glass, I tell Brooklyn everything. It actually
feels exhilarating to get everything out there in the open for her
to hear. Having all this pain from last night bottled up inside was
tearing me apart. No amount of wine could numb the pain I was going
through. The man I had loved and planned on spending the rest of my
life with, betrayed me, ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped
on it repeatedly.

When everything is hanging
in the air and Brooklyn has processed what happened, she just sits
there in a daze in front of me. She closes her eyes and drops her
chin to her chest, it’s rising and falling quickly and I know she’s
trying to keep herself calm to be strong for me. I’m blessed to
have her as my friend; I don’t even want to know what life would be
like without her in it. It’s hard enough losing Logan but I think
losing her would be unbearable. Finally after what feels like an
eternity, she looks up at me with the most terrifying looking I’ve
ever seen on her face before.

“I’m going to kill that son
of a bitch. He thinks he can sleep with any little tramp that will
spread her legs while he’s professing his love to you? What the
fuck is wrong with him? Proposing to you last night in a room full
of women he has had sex with, while he was with you? He is screwed
up; he literally has to have mental issues! I’m going to go to his
suite, chop his dick off and force feed it to him.”

“Brooklyn, I appreciate you
wanting to seek revenge on Logan for this, but it is not worth our
time or energy. I would love nothing more than to castrate
him…believe me, I would, but it won’t help the pain go away. I want
to forget he ever existed. It’s so hard because everything I do,
everything I hear and see reminds me of him.” I can feel tears
trickling down my face one after another and part of me can’t
believe I have any tears left in me to cry.

Brooklyn reaches across the
lounge and wraps me in her arms, petting my hair and crying into my
neck. We sit there for almost half an hour, just holding each other
and crying. I’m grateful to her for being here for me, listening to
me vent and letting me get everything out of my system.

We talk the rest of the
night, curled up on the couch, watching reality TV on-demand; it’s
exactly what I need. We discuss what I’m going to do about the
press and telling my parents. I’m terrified to tell my mom and dad,
especially my dad. He’ll most definitely go all ‘southern’ on
Logan’s ass, driving to his suite and shoving a twelve gage shot
gun in his face and threatening to blow his head off his shoulders
for breaking his little girl’s heart. The idea makes me smile and
it’s the first time I’ve smiled since yesterday evening.

Brooklyn suggests I tell my
parents and have their PR team handle the press, then I can just
write a small statement saying the engagement has been called off
and it’s a personal matter, which I do not wish to discuss. Giving
the press any other information would just lead to them hunting
down Logan and his models, meaning I would have to deal with seeing
my personal life plastered all over gossip magazines for the world
to see.

Logan tries contacting me
every day for the entire week, trying to get me to agree to see
him. He wouldn’t take a hint, he even came to our house and pounded
at our door, begging for me to let him in and give him a chance to
explain. Brooklyn took much joy in threatening to have his ass
arrested for harassment if he tried to come here again. She was my
rock right now, the only thing keeping me from falling apart
completely. I stay off my laptop because I can’t bear to read all
the congratulatory emails I’ve been receiving from everyone, they
were just another painful reminder of my betrayal.

I call my parents on
Tuesday, following a voice mail from my mother that threatened to
come to my house if I didn’t call her back. I guess Logan has shown
up at theirs earlier today, pleading with my mother to talk some
sense into me and let him try to fix things. I know for a fact he
wouldn’t have told her the whole truth, if my mother knew for a
second that he’d cheated on me, especially moments after proposing,
he wouldn’t be breathing right now, let alone convincing her to
call me on his behalf.

I tell her everything he
had done, well, everything I gathered from what that Cara girl said
in the hotel room, and from what I had witnessed Saturday night. I
tell her about the phone calls, text messages and emails from him
and how I had deleted them all without reading. I was finished with
him and there was nothing he could say or do to change my mind. He
made his bed and he can damn well lay in it and suffer for all I
cared. I have no sympathy for him and the heartache he brought upon
himself. She sat on the other end of the phone, not saying a word.
She was speechless, something I had never before
witnessed.