Promise Me (29 page)

What kind of explanation could there be? He didn't even try to hide it and he wants me to believe that he never meant to hurt me? I feel my anger growing like The Hulk as it roars through me and I want to punch him in the face so bad that my hands start to shake. Who the hell does he think he is? And as this question turns over in my mind, my fingers of their own free will start dialing his number.

"Baby," he says relieved after picking up on the first ring.

"Don't ever call me that again. You lost that right last night when you were with
her
," choosing not to say her name out loud.

"I'm only calling to set you straight on something and to say that after that, I never want to hear from you again." Yeah, right. The thought of him never calling me again stings and the emptiness I feel looming over my head begins to settle. But I need to get this out as difficult as it is and as angry as I am. I owe myself that much.

He sounds mournful when he says, "Okay."

"For ten years...
ten years
, Tyler... I've waited for you. I trusted you. And when I say I trusted you, I don't think you understand what that means to me. Because during every single one of those years, ever since that one night, I've never really been able to trust anyone after what happened to me. So, of all the people in the world, you are the
very
last person I ever expected to do this to me. One of the hardest things I've ever had to do was let my guard down and open myself up to you. I entrusted you with my heart... but you threw it away." I have to take a quick breath before I go on since the tears are starting back up again. "God, I'm so stupid! I fell in love with a memory... a fucking ghost!"

Now the crying is getting the better of me and I really should just hang up, but his raspy voice cuts through any logical reasoning I have and keeps me on the line.

"I fell in love with you too, Sabrina. Please don't do this. Let me explain."

That just pushes me over the edge of what little control of the situation I have left. The anger intermingled with the heartache is killing me and my body feels like it's on auto-pilot when I stop him from doing just that.

"You love me? You know what, don't even answer that. You don't know what the hell love is, Tyler. If you did, you wouldn't have done what you are claiming to be so sorry for. It wouldn't even have been a fleeting thought. If you did actually love me, you would know how much this would kill me. You would know that I would never forgive you. So please don't say that you love me, because it's obvious you don't have a clear grasp of what that word means."

With an edge to his voice, he asks, "Who's Alex?"

"He's my boss," I say defensively, "not that it's any of your business."

"Do you have something going on with him?"

"I guess you're just now remembering what you said to me last night. Do you have any idea how humiliated and hurt I felt after hearing you talk to me like that? Look, I'm only going to explain this to you once, so listen carefully. Alex is my boss. He was…
was, as in past tense.
.. interested in me and before I left for the reunion he let me know that he wanted to pursue something. But, being the goddamn fool that I am, the moment I got back home I told him no because of
you
. Because of the way I feel about
you
."

"Ava said...," he trails off because just the sound of her name from his lips makes my stomach lurch in response and I cut him off.

"I don't care what she told you, Tyler! If you have a problem with something that concerns me, about us, then you man up and ask me about it."

"Did you or did you not go on a date with him since you've been back home?"

"No, I didn't! Didn't you hear a single word I've just said to you? Do you honestly not believe me right now? Because that would be perfect, considering what you said to me last night."

"I was drunk, I didn't mean it."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I told you when you were here… I warned you that I'm not use to this shit. I fuck up, that's what I always do."

"So you get to go 'slumming' then you apologize and blame it on being drunk? I'm supposed to just accept your apology and forget about all of this because you love me so much, is that right, Tyler? Did I leave anything out?"

"Cut the sarcastic bullshit, Sabrina," he says in a huff. "Look, I never said that I was perfect. I told you from day one that I was a selfish bastard."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you really going to sit there and tell me that because you're not use to '
this
', that I should have known better? That I should have seen this coming?"

I don't know how I manage to stave off the sobbing; perhaps the rage I'm feeling is that strong. Whatever it is, I'm done. I'm so done with this conversation that the silence doesn't even register until he says my name.

"Are you still there?" He asks.

"What do you want from me, Tyler?"

"You."

"Please… just leave me alone," I say expelling what little energy I have left.

He sighs and I can picture him on the other line running his hands through his hair in frustration. "I can't do that, baby. If you won't let me explain, then at least let me say one thing."

I don't say yes or no. All my words have been used up. I've reached my quota for the day and he notices since I don't hang up. Instead, I stay on the line and listen in morbid curiosity to what he has to say.

"I'm not giving up, Sabrina. If it takes every day for the rest of my fucking life, I'm going to fix this."

"Did you fuck her?"

He stays quiet for too long then exhales loudly before answering me. "Yes."

A small part of me had been hanging on to the tiniest of hope that maybe he hadn't actually done the deed. But with his one little word answer, everything crumbles around me all at once. I'm exhausted, completely defeated and between tears when I choke out, "Then it's too late. Goodbye."

I hang up the phone and turn it off this time, not wanting to be bothered any longer today with texts or calls from him or anyone else for that matter. The anger and hurt over him openly admitting his betrayal is rushing through me so fast that I feel lightheaded. I wish I could make it all stop. I wish that I had never given him my heart with a goddamn bow on it, only to have him squander it at the first obstacle thrown his way. With that, I throw Julia's magic blanket over me again and get into a fetal position on the couch. My crying has died down a little when I eventually close my eyes and hope that this blanket can really make all the pain go away forever.

My vision is blurred after staring at my work monitor for an hour. The words are all jumbled and nothing is sinking in. I'm not able to accomplish much of any work that will help me catch up from my unscheduled day off yesterday. My day off that consisted of crying, followed by more crying, and followed up with some more crying.

I'm all cried out. At least I hope I am while I'm at work. Nothing more embarrassing, than to force my fellow co-workers to witness an emotional breakdown firsthand. The only reason I think I've been able to hold off the tears this long is by keeping my phone off so that I'm not tempted to call him.

There's one side of me that wants to hear his voice again and tell me it was all some crazy mix up. That side is obviously delusional. The other, logical side of me knows I can't do that because it's not some crazy mix up. A mix up to me is more akin to ordering a Diet Coke and they bring you a Coke instead. Or, when you get your neighbors mail by mistake. This doesn't qualify in that category at all. This is full on, hot mess, soap opera; I wish I was in a padded room, kind of crazy mix up. The kind that doesn't go away when you close your eyes and try to erase everything by squeezing them so tightly that they hurt. This kind of mix up is the kind that stays with you forever. Always in the back of your mind, no matter how much you wish you could forget about it, even if for only a few minutes of temporary blissful ignorance.

I look away from my monitor only for a moment to rummage through my desk to find something to snack on. I haven't eaten anything since... God, I don't even remember. I'm pretty sure copious amounts of White Chocolate Macadamia Nut flavored ice cream doesn't count. Between Julia and me, we polished off the entire half gallon while sitting in my bed after she got home from work yesterday. Only problem with that is that I'm pretty close to starving now but not in the mood to get up and go anywhere to get myself a bite to eat.

My hand digs to the back of my file cabinet that I use for useless junk and finds a granola bar. It's just going to have to do for now. As I take my first bite, I open up my personal email account to send off a quick note to my parents, who I'm certain have been trying to reach me but since my phone is off, they've probably started to panic.

I efficiently type out a few lines explaining how busy I am with work and then throw in quick blurb about having an issue with Tyler without providing any details before I press send. That should appease them for a day... maybe two, if I'm lucky. Common sense tells me, this will come back to bite me in the ass later. Knowing my mom, as soon as she reads that something is wrong with Tyler, she'll not only call me immediately but she'll send me a care package loaded with God knows what. Oh well, too late now. Probably should have thought out my email better, but under the circumstances, it was the best I could do.

At two minutes to five, it's a race against time and I start to gather my belongings so I can drive home and crawl back into my bed. My computer starts to shut down and I snatch my keys from inside my purse when I look up to see Alex standing in the door of my office.

"It's not like you to leave any earlier than six, you must not be feeling well." He hesitates a second before stepping inside.

I'm not feeling well. I'm feeling like total and utter shit right now, thank you very much. I just want to be left alone and contemplate life and what a complete idiot I am. I nervously tuck the loose strands of hair that have fallen out of my chignon behind my ear and put on the best meek smile that I can muster before I answer him.

"No, I don't."

I drop my head and go to walk around my desk which brings me to within inches of where he's standing now. I'm hoping he didn't notice my overt attempt to hide my misery, but seeing as I'm wearing my crushed heart on my sleeve, I doubt it.

"You look pale and you're shaking."

"I'm fine. Just need to get home and get some rest."

I tilt my head up so that my eyes meet his. Big mistake.

"Sabrina, are you crying?"

"No."

I'm totally crying now after I had seen the sympathetic look on his face a second ago.

"What's wrong?" He asks and goes to put his hands on my upper arms.

He stops just shy of doing so when the ugly cry finally makes an appearance. I cover my face with my hands to sob and sink into one of the guest chairs I have in my office. The sound of my office door closing registers and I'm relieved that he's left me and my breakdown alone.

"Here, take this." Alex's voice is soft and surprisingly close. I peek through my fingers to see him crouched right in front of me holding out a handkerchief.

When I don't take it, he inches closer and pulls my hands down slowly, one at a time from my face. The tears have stopped while he starts to wipe my cheeks with the handkerchief

Keeping his eyes on the movement of his own hand, he asks, "Is it because of him?"

"Yes."

Satisfied with the job he's done, he tucks the handkerchief back into the breast pocket of his suit. His jaw flexes when his clear blue eyes lock onto mine while his hand reaches out to cup my jaw and rub his thumb gently over the apple of my cheek.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

The corner of his lips twitch to keep in a smile. "Because of..."

"Yes, because of...," and my eyebrows rise to emphasize the "us" that's so blatantly missing from that sentence.

"Try me." I don't know if it's the way he said it, or the look of melancholy in his eyes that pushes me to want to tell him everything. Whichever it is, I know I feel safe enough here with him in this tiny office to unload all of my drama on him.