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“Yougot it, buddy.”
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CelebritEYES:Ipromise we’ll say yes!Theinternet’s boyfriend makes surprise proposal to his #elevatorgirlfriend on theEddieParsonsshow!
chaptereighty-four
selena
Ihaven’t answered a single one ofJackson’scalls or texts, even though it’s killing me.Allof this is killing me.AndJacksonisn’t making it any easier to get over him.Becausehe’s not leaving me alone.Whodoes that?
It’slike he gets off on torturing me.OnlyIknow better than that exactly howJacksonlikes to get off.It’swith me on top.ButIcan’t keep having sex with him when it’s just sex for him.Andit’s love for me.
Knock.Knock.Knock.
Whothe hell just shows up at someone’s house at ten-thirty at night with no notice?
Grabbingmy box of tissues and my wine,Ihead for the door.
Whoeverit is, is about to get a piece-and-a-half of my mind.I’min my sad robe with my sad tissues and my sad wine.Andthat is no time to interrupt a woman.Sadeverything is howIlive now.I’vespent every night for the past week crying alone on my sofa.Inmy bed.Inmy shower.Ihold it together whenI’mat the bakery and there’s people around.Butother than that,I’mcrying.Goingcold turkey off ofJacksonWatersis not for the faint of heart.
“What?”Ibite out asIswing the door open.
JacksonandOatsare standing in front of me.Jacksonhas a giant bouquet of lilies in his arm.
Camerasflash behind them.Mystreet is full of photographers and media trucks.
Ohmy god.Ohmy god.It’sall starting again.
Islam the door right in his face.I’min a robe.Myface is puffy from crying.Myhair is all over the place.AndI’mdouble-fisting wine and tissues.
Knock.Knock.Knock.
“Baby, can you let me in?Please?There’sa lot of cameras out here watching us.They’dlove to get some pictures of us fighting.”Myfront door muffles his voice, butIcan hear him just fine.
“I’mnot sure that’s my problem anymore.It’sover,Jackson.Thecontract expired a week ago.You’rea free man, andI’msure as hell a free woman.Inever have to live my life around what the press thinks ever again.”
“Selena,Ijust need to talk to you.Idid something…”
“Whatdid you do?”
“That’swhatIcame here to talk to you about.Pleaselet me in, baby.Ijust need to talk to you.Thenif you still want me to go,I’llgo.Ipromise.Please, baby.”
Mymind spins, trying to figure out what’s worse.MelettingJacksonin and actually having to be in the same room with him, knowingIcan’t have him.Orweeks of headlines about howI’ma crazy bitch who locked out my movie star boyfriend.I’vewaited all week to see headlines about our relationship being on the rocks.Butnothing.Asfar as the rest of the world knows,JacksonandIare blissfully happy together.
Hidingbehind the door,Itwist the handle and open it enough forOatsandJacksonto come in.Assoon as they’re inside,Islam the door shut and lock it.
ThenIturn and walk down the hall to the kitchen to get more wine.I’mhaving total déjà vu to the first timeJacksoncame to my place to talk to me.Thenight when my life spiraled out of control.Everythinghas changed, but so much is still the same.
JacksonandOatsfollow me into the kitchen and watch me whileIfill my enormous glass right to the top.
WhenIturn around after putting the bottle of rosé back in the fridge, he’s staring at me.Jacksonhas no right to be this handsome after breaking my heart.
“Hey, baby.Imissed you.”
“Whatare you doing here,Jackson?SinceIknow you won’t leave until you’ve said what you’re here to say.Justspit it out.”
Howthe hell amIsupposed to get over him if he keeps showing up on my doorstep like this?Idon’t stand a chance of ever moving on ifIhave to keep seeing him.
