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“You don’t know?” she asked gently.
“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “He said it wasn’t what it looked like. He seemed so sincere. He apologized and looked like he was genuinely upset I was ignoring him. I went to work with the intention of making his life hell, but I think this is only going to come back on me. I’m the one suffering. I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Then quit,” Trisha said. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“I need the job. I like the job. I just can’t quit this man. He’s worse than crack or heroin or both combined. Why am I so addicted to him?”
“Because you love him,” she said.
I groaned. “I hate that I love him. I don’t want to love him. He’s only going to break my heart. Again. I wish I wouldn’t have met him all those years ago. I hate that we hooked up. I hate that we were both in Vegas at the same time. He’s under my skin and I don’t know if there is a way out of this.”
“I wish I knew how to help you,” she said. “I hate to see you suffering. If it’s too hard for you to be around him, you should quit. You shouldn’t torture yourself.”
I blew out a breath. “I know. I should. I just hate that I have no control over this. When I saw it was him at the job, I should have just walked away. Damn me and my vengeful self. This is a clear warning you should never attempt to get revenge. It’s just wrong.”
“Did you eat anything else?” she asked.
“No. I’m full.”
She laughed. “You’re full of ice cream and wine.”
“Still full, but I’m going to have another glass. I need to knock myself out so I can actually sleep.”
“Are you going to go to work tomorrow?” she asked.
I sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, no pressure,” she said. “You know what’s right for you.”
I snorted and refilled my glass. “Yeah, obviously not.”
44
JON
Icouldn’t understand why she was this mad at me. I explained the picture. I was tempted to call the journalist that took the picture and make him tell her the whole story. Unfortunately, I had a feeling that wouldn’t work.
She had made it damn clear she didn’t want anything to do with me. It was tearing me apart. I didn’t know how to handle the situation. I wasn’t used to just being ghosted. She ignored me. It was worse than being ignored. She acted like I didn’t exist.
Totally indifferent.
She didn’t hate me. She didn’t want me. She just didn’t give a shit. It was like we had never kissed or shared a single intimate moment together. That cut deep. It was worse than waking up to find her missing from my bed eight years ago.
I was twisted up. My skin felt itchy and twitchy. I didn’t know if I wanted to go for a run or get shitfaced. Nothing felt right. My mom had convinced me I would be able to explain away the picture. She made me hopeful. I really thought I had a chance of making this right.
The worst part of the situation was finding out she had left work without saying a word. It was like we were back in that Vegas hotel room and I was waking up to find her gone all over again. It was so much worse this time.
I grabbed my things and was on my way out the door when Dane called.
“What’s up?” I answered.
“Let’s go hit some balls,” he said.
“What kind of balls are we talking?” I asked.
“The white kind.”
“Again, golf or baseball?” I said a little irritably.
