Not Quite Dating
Page 48“That’s all it was to you?” he asked harshly. His tone made her want to weep.
Her lip quivered and tears stung her eyes. “Yes.” She did her best to sound convincing. When he continued to stare at her, she spun away. “I think you should go.”
I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.
“Jessie?”
“Just go.” She didn’t turn around. She couldn’t. If he saw the pain in her eyes, he’d know he meant something to her and keep trying.
Jessie held her breath until she heard him slip from the room. Then she sank to her bed because her legs simply couldn’t hold her up any longer. The sound of her apartment door opening and closing prompted the flood of tears she’d been holding back.
Why? Why couldn’t he be happy with what they had?
Regret was too small a word for the waterfall of pain that saturated her.
She was right in cutting him loose. He would have grown to hate her for tying him down.
But lord, it hurt.
Like she’d let go of something that only came around once in a lifetime.
Jack held back a strong urge to swipe the Christmas tree in the living room of his suite out the window.
The drink in his hand wasn’t numbing him nearly enough. With every hour, his mind vacillated more and more between anger and depression. He blamed himself for blurting out his proposal. If he could have waited, had a ring and done it the right way…
But no. Impulsive Jack jumped right into happily ever after, and now Jessie was out of his reach.
It would be funny if he weren’t so miserable. Jessie had denied him marriage because she thought he was a broke loser with nothing to offer.
How friggin’ ironic is that?
He drove away from her apartment thinking he could go back to what they were. Friends.
There was no going back, and moving forward wasn’t an option. Damn. He and Jessie couldn’t even stand still.
His head fell into his hands.
The phone in his room rang, startling him. When he stood to answer it, the room started to spin.
Jack glanced at the clock on his wall. It was six in the evening, and he still wore the clothes he’d tossed on in the middle of the night to rush Danny to the hospital.
The phone kept ringing.
“I’m coming,” he yelled at the phone. Clicking on to the call, Jack nearly dropped the phone before he brought it up to his ear. “What?”
“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” a female voice purred over the line.
“Katie?”
“Jesus, Jack, it’s what…six there? Isn’t it early for you to be partying?”
Jack sat before he fell. “You don’t hold the rights to self-indulgence.” Besides, he’d had a bad day.
“First, I hear you’re not coming home for Christmas, now you’re wasted in the middle of the day.”
“I-It isn’t the middle of the day.”
“Blurred speech takes some time to achieve, Jacko. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Women! “Nothing. I’m fine.” Drunk, but fine. As long as he sat perfectly still, the room only swayed when he inhaled…or exhaled.
Damn woman. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Jack. Don’t you dare. I’ll be the—”
He lifted the phone in front of his eyes and hit the End button…twice.
Then, because the bedroom was too far away, Jack sat back and closed his eyes.
The next twenty-four hours were a blur for Jessie. Danny’s fever rose and fell, but by nightfall, she thought she’d seen the worst of his symptoms. By tomorrow morning, he’d be hard to hold down.
Danny asked about Jack too many times to count.
Where was he?
Was he coming back?
Why did he leave?
Would they be seeing him for Christmas?
With every question, another nail was jammed into the coffin she’d made of her life. Monica was due back that night, and Jessie could hardly wait for her sister to get home so she could cry on her shoulder and hear what a fool she’d been.
Without a doubt, Monica would be calling her all kinds of stupid for saying no.
They would argue. Jessie would put into words why she had to cut Jack loose, and Monica would try to change her mind.
But Jessie was older. She knew better.
Her phone rang. Jessie’s heart leapt in her throat. What if it was Jack?
“This call is for Jessica Mann. Ms. Mann, this is Phil Gravis over at Upland Toyota…”
Her car. She scrambled to pick up the phone. “Hello?”
“Ms. Mann?”
“Yes, this is her. Sorry, I was in the other room,” she lied. “Didn’t hear the phone.” Lie number two.
“Not a problem. Ummm, about your car.”
Oh, please…no more bad news. She really couldn’t take it. “Yes?”
“We had a slight mishap here in the garage.”
“Mishap?” That couldn’t be good.
“A fire, actually.”
Her car. Bad as it was, was only insurance for the other guy. Dammit, the sky was falling and Jessie was standing dead center of the funnel cloud.
“A fire?”
“Yes. A fire mishap. Don’t worry, your car is—”