Page 114 of Saving Her


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“Actually, I would,” I answered, reaching up to kiss him, hoping that the moment I felt we were sharing was the same for both of us, but it must not have been as strong, if there at all for Johnathan, because he pulled back.

When I opened my eyes and looked at him, he seemed apologetic, but he didn’t offer any kind of explanation.

So, I was prompted to pry, so that I could understand him.

“Johnathan, please tell me what happened to you. Why did you decide to live your life up here all alone? And, why am I be

ing punished for someone else’s actions?”

“First of all, it’s not you,” he answered, almost immediately, but didn’t give any further response.

“Okay,” I answered, this time insinuating that I would like more of an answer then the copout he had tried to give me.

Johnathan hesitated, notably thinking about what to say next. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to give me another line, or if he was trying to figure out how to answer my questions, but I waited patiently to find out.

Eventually, he started to tell me, and I could tell this wasn’t easy for him.

“Her name is Sarah…We met at work. I worked in a bank and she was a client. I had what I thought to be one of the most boring jobs in the world and she traveled the world. She would come into the bank a lot and talk to me, because with all her trips, she needed to make sure her affairs were in order. She never wanted to run out of money while she was overseas, so she asked for budgeting and currency-exchange tips. She was a client for a few years at the bank and she would always look for me when she came in,” he grinned, “It was nice…and eventually, we started to talk about things that were not related to her finances. Eventually, I asked her on a date. One thing led to another and we lived together for five years. I proposed, she said yes. I knew that she was a wild girl, with an adventurous soul, but I trusted her. We were set to be married in a month. Everything was set. Hell, even Jake was supposed to be in the wedding. I couldn’t wait, and I had no idea that there was anything wrong. Then, one morning, she woke up and announced she was leaving me. She didn’t give me a reason, except that she didn’t want to get married. She didn’t want to be tied down. I was desperate. I told her that we could work on us, that we didn’t have to get married, that she could have all the time she needed.” He stopped, as his jaw tightened, and his eyes assured me that he was somewhere far away.

“Oh, God…” I replied, gingerly putting a hand on his arm, which he abruptly removed.

“Carrie,” he insisted, his eyes now piercing into mine with the serious nature of his expression, “When I tell you, I did everything I possibly could to get her to stay…I begged her not to leave. It really was pathetic…especially because my attempts to get her to at least talk to me didn’t seem to affect her at all. She left, and I was devastated. However, to add insult to injury, a few days after the breakup, or I guess, dumping, would be the more appropriate term, I was having a few drinks with my buddy, and he let it slip that it was probably for the best, since she wasn’t faithful to me. I was still in that denial stage, so I was ready to fight him, defend her honor and all that, when he confessed that he thought I knew. I demanded to know what he thought I knew, exactly and he told me that Sarah had slept around on me for years…She had even slept with the guy I was drinking with…and he was supposed to be my best friend.”

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed, “I couldn’t imagine what I would do in that situation.”

“At the time neither could I. Of course, when I finally believed what he was saying, I wanted to beat the living shit out of him, but he left, and I let him go. I talked to some of my other friends after that, trying to piece together some kind of a timeline and they all had similar stories.”

“What?” I exclaimed, unable to imagine sleeping around with one person, much less nearly all my friends.

“Yeah!” He replied with a hollow laugh, “It still doesn’t even seem real to me. I was so angry and the last thing I wanted to do was find more people, but before I could stop, I was asking another one of them, who eventually either told me, or led me to believe that they were with her too. It got to the point where I was convinced she was sleeping with my friends more than she was sleeping with me. I was devastated. I wanted to confront her about all of it, but I couldn’t find her. She wouldn’t return my phone calls and her friends refused to tell me anything about her whereabouts. It was awful. They made me feel like an abusive asshole, just because I wanted answers…” He huffed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry…” I insisted, “But, surely there was one friend?”

“Yeah, there was. Except, what he told me, was even worse news. I asked him straight out, as I had asked everyone else if he had slept with Sarah…He told me that he hadn’t, and I believed him, but he was one of those guys that was never good at hiding anything, so ironically, most of us didn’t trust him all that much. He was a nervous guy and after this conversation, I remembered that he was particularly nervous around me, and had been for a long time. I always thought it was odd, but like I said, he was a weird dude…But he told me, that not only had he not slept with her, he had to refuse her…Multiple times. Apparently, she was on a mission to sleep with every one of my friends. I wasn’t sure why she needed to accomplish this, but after all the shit I’d heard recently about her, I would just about believe anything.”

“You know, people aren’t all like that,” I told him, trying to be comforting, but unsure if I had actually managed to hit the mark.

“Yeah, I know. I mean, I want to believe that, but that’s not even where the story ends. So, I go to my parent’s house for dinner one night and she fucking shows up! She makes a big scene in front of my folks and my brother, who for some reason completely hates me…So, I figure, I don’t want to deal with this, so I leave. I go to the bar, then, at around ten-thirty, the cops show up at the bar. They arrest me. Now, I’m plastered as fuck, so I’m not even sure if this is real, a dream, or what. However, I get booked, on God knows what and get thrown in a cell. The next morning, I wake up with the worst hangover ever and a charge against me for assault. Apparently, after I left my parent’s house, she stormed out and made it look like I had beat the shit out of her. She slashed her own tires, punched herself, broke a few ribs and did whatever she could, to make me look like the biggest piece of shit walking.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged, “I dunno. She was the one who wanted to leave, it wasn’t like I had money…She wasn’t going to get anything, even if she successfully sued. I’m not sure what her plan was. Fortunately, the charges didn’t stick, but that was only because I got lucky and got an officer who was willing to check out what was going on. During the investigation, we found out that I wasn’t the first guy she had tried to do this to. She apparently had done it twice before and taken the poor bastards for everything they had. The first time, generally, it’s an open and shut case. The second time, it’s suspicious, but the third time, it seems she pushed her luck just a little too far. So, the charges were dropped, and I was let go, but during the process, I had called my parents, thinking that they could at least attest to my story, that I was there and left, before she even left their house, but they were no help whatsoever. They were embarrassed by the whole thing and told me that was what I got for sleeping around with a whore. They actually told me that I deserved it. They refused to say anything at all to the police and pretty much washed their hands of me.”

Again, he shook his head and I placed my hand on his back, trying to be comforting.

“It’s weird. I lived with this woman and I was so blinded by…love, lust, or whatever, that I didn’t see the person she truly was. The person I thought I loved, didn’t even exist…At least, not really. I don’t know if she was on some kind of revenge kick, power trip, or what happened to her, to make her act that way and do those things, but it completely shattered me. I couldn’t trust anyone ever again.”

“Well, I can definitely understand why…” I shook my head as his words sunk in, “God, Johnathan, I couldn’t imagine…Losing everyone you cared about…”

“No, not losing them, realizing that I never had them to begin with, and that they never gave a shit about me. Everyone I know was gone, just like that…Except for that one guy. Tom. I tried to keep a friendship with him, after cutting everyone else out of my life. However, every time I saw him, or anyone, I would just get angry. I started drinking heavily, which was stupid. I went to work drunk on more than one occasion, because I couldn’t sit in m

y cubicle and conduct business sober, knowing that this was where we met. Then, one day, she came into my bank and made a big deal. Security was called, she was escorted out and I left. I never went back and that was the day I decided that I was done. I packed what little shit I cared about, took Jake and moved out here. Tom came to see me a few times, but I couldn’t even manage to be civil with him, so eventually, he stopped coming. I didn’t blame him, but I was upset by being alone. I continued to drink, until I realized that I needed to save my money. So, I started to do odd jobs on the mountain for people. I never worked for the same person twice though and eventually learned to pretty much live off the land. I get most of my meat in town, but everything else, I grow, catch, or make. It’s ben a long time since I even had a visitor, much less someone I could actually talk to.”

I grinned encouragingly at him, wrapping my arms around him for support.

“I can’t begin to express how sorry I am. That’s a terrible way to have to live,” I replied.

“It’s actually not as bad as I think I’m making it sound, but it does get kind of lonely. I mean, while I don’t want to put my trust in anyone again, it’s hard not to miss being around people sometimes. I mean, Jake is a great companion, but there’s only so many times you can talk to the dog before you start to feel crazy.”

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