His response makes my breath falter. I do love somebody, I love five somebodies, and I’m scared as hell to lose them. I turn and open the door to let myself out. I have to get out of here before I choke this man. He freaking knows what happened, and he thinks it’s a joke. I feel tears of anger pooling my eyes, but I won’t let him see them. I close the door quietly behind me, and I don’t stop walking until I’m back in the parking garage of my building. I turn on my car, and as I pull out of the parking garage to go home, Coldplay’s “Fix You” comes on the radio.
When you lose something you can’t replace.
When you love someone, but it goes to waste.
Could it be worse?
Cue the goddamn tears. Damn Chris Martin and his ability to make me cry every time he opens his damn mouth.
When I get to my apartment, I call out for Aubry, but he’s not home. I go straight to my room and take out my cell phone. Ten missed calls. Three from Russell, five from Cole, one from Becky, and one from Aubry. I sort through my text messages and see one from Aimee and one from Cole. Aimee’s is to ask me how it went with Mark. I reply quickly saying it went well. Cole’s message simply says: I’m always thinking about you. I get butterflies and smile at my screen before calling Russell.
“Hey, babe,” he says with his sexy accent.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t call back earlier.”
“No, that’s fine. How did your meeting go?”
“It went well. I think I’m coming down with something, though. I don’t feel well at all,” I groan.
“Oh? Do you want me to come over and bring you some soup?” he asks concerned.
“No, thank you. I think I’m just going to sleep it off. I’ll call you in the morning.”
I text message Aubry and Becky. I let Aubry know I’m home and going to take a nap. I tell Becky I’ll call her back tomorrow because I’m not feeling well. This should buy me enough time to read the letter from Shelley. I call Cole back because he won’t accept a simple text message, and I really need to hear his voice right now.
“Hello?” he answers on the second ring. He sounds like he’s out of breath.
“Hey, were you working out?” I ask.
“Uh...no, what’s up?” he replies clearing his throat. I hear a woman say something to him in the background that I can’t make out. “Hold on a sec,” he says to me and puts the phone down. I hear his muffled voice, talking to who I assume must be Erin. He sounds like he’s trying to calm her down. Then I hear her scream, “You picked up the phone in the middle of fucking me! Who the fuck are you talking to?” That’s when I hang up and run to the bathroom to throw up my breakfast, since that’s all I’ve eaten all day. I was already feeling a little queasy from the mixture of not eating, Shelley’s letter, and my encounter with Mark, but Cole answering the phone in the middle of...oh my god, I feel sick again. I sit on the cold tile next to the toilet, clutching my stomach for a few minutes.
I try to reason that he wasn’t thinking when he answered the phone. It’s normal for us to drop everything and tend to one another. He didn’t mean to let me know what he was doing. I’m thinking all of this, but none of it makes me feel any better about the situation. The visual is already there, silently plaguing me. Now all I can think about is his hands holding her face as he kisses her softly. His lips on her skin. His body rocking against hers as he whispers how beautiful she is. I shut my eyes tightly and cover my ears with my hands. I can’t deal with the thought. I can’t. I can’t think about him with somebody else anymore. I know I have no right to feel this way, but I can’t help it. The thought of him with another woman has been bothering the hell out of me lately.
I get up and press my palms to the counter. I look at my reflection, and I realize I look the way I feel—like death. My white frilly blouse is half tucked out of my navy blue pencil skirt. My clothes are wrinkled, my makeup is running, and my eyes are red. I have little freckles around my eyes from my convulsive vomit.
I laugh at myself. I can’t believe it took that to make me vomit. Why would he answer the phone in the middle of sex? I groan. The thought alone makes me hover over the toilet seat again. I need to hold it together. This is stupid, I tell myself repeatedly as I brush my teeth. When I finally get in the shower, I turn on the water and sit on the floor sobbing as I let the water wash away my sorrows. All the memories that usually haunt my nights have been brought to light, and I’m not sure where to go from here. I see three missed calls from Cole and decide to send him a text saying I’ll talk to him tomorrow and apologize for calling. I quickly turn off my phone and toss it aside before opening the letter from Shelley.
Blake,
This is going to be a lot to take in, so you may want to sit down to read this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you any of the answers you needed when you were with me. You were so young, and I couldn’t for many reasons that you wouldn’t understand. There is a lot more to your life than you realize. You will find out some things—if you haven’t already—that will make you doubt everything. Please doubt everything—just don’t let those things define you. You must be careful who you trust. I just want the best for you. I know you’re doing great things. I always knew you would make a difference in this world. This last part is very difficult for me to tell you even though I am no longer physically present. It may be harder because of that since I cannot defend my actions. I know you will hate me for this. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day. If not, know that I’m very sorry and that I’ve always loved you very much.
Here I go... I’m not your aunt. Your mother and I spoke every day, and she sent me photos of you all the time. Sometimes, she would even bring you to visit me. I loved you with all my heart from the time you were born. The things I left for you in the safety deposit box are yours to do with as you please. I use Mark as your attorney for a reason; please do not question that. Mark is a good man and has your best interests at heart. If you ever need anything, he’ll be there for you. Maggie—Mrs. Parker—was also a friend of mine and your mother’s. I knew she would take good care of you. I know she did an amazing job with you. I’m sure you haven’t been able to find out much about your past—if you’ve looked. Not many people know the truth about what happened that night. I never knew the full story.
The name your parents gave you is Catherine Blake Brennan. I’m only giving you this bit of information so that you can continue your search for the truth. I hope I’m not hurting you more than I am helping you. Please don’t use that name—trust me on that. Burn this letter when you’re finished reading it.
I love you, Blake. Please don’t forget that.
Love,
Shelley
I sit stunned for a few seconds until the letter drops from my shaking hands. I try to fill my lungs with air, but I feel as though whatever air they had left vanished with my identity. I gasp for air a couple of times and bring my face between my knees until I calm myself down. I look at the time. 4:23. I wipe my face and take a couple of deep breaths before turning my phone back on.
I don’t check to see who the voice messages I have are from. I call my boss, Gina, and request the week off. I need time to think, and if I’m going to find out what is in that box, I need this week off. I’m sure she heard my broken voice because she didn’t bother sounding upset about my being away for a week. Not that I mattered there; I’m just a measly intern.