Break You

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

JASON

She told me to leave. She thought everything between us had been nothing but pretend. How the fuck could she think that? I pulled at my hair as I paced in the parking lot. A knot formed in my stomach and the tears that had threatened to burst from my eyes in the room finally fell free. Everything came crashing down on me at once and I fell apart right there in the parking lot.

When I finally managed to pull myself together, I cranked my Jeep and headed home.

The lights were off when I pulled into the driveway. Mom was home, but she was sleeping. Wiping the snot from my nose with the back of my hand, I killed the engine and headed inside. My legs had a Jell-O-like quality to them as I walked to the door and down the hall to my bedroom. Flopping on the rickety twin from my childhood, I bawled my eyes out until I fell asleep.

* * * *

The Cross Meadows sign was glaring at me in a mocking way. A cool breeze blew through the trees, causing leaves to fall and dance across the parking lot. I crammed my hands in the front pockets of my shorts. Fall was coming. The signs of it approaching were everywhere.

I hung my head and chewed the inside of my cheek while I waited a few more minutes. I knew Blaire was inside, waiting on me to leave, but I'd decided that I wasn't going to leave today until she talked to me. It was going on week four since I had walked out the door to her hospital room, and I'd beaten myself up about that moment ever since. I should have stayed. I should have known staying was the only way to prove to her that everything she'd said had been wrong. Instead I'd been an idiot and left, and she hadn't returned my calls, replied to my texts, or responded to my Facebook messages since.

She'd cut herself from my life and all I wanted was her back.

The automatic doors to the front of the building slid open, but it wasn't Blaire that came out, it was some short girl with wiry red hair dressed in scrubs. Her face was pinched and her strides were powerful and precise. She was a woman on a mission, and she looked pissed off as hell.

"Blaire doesn't want to see you. She's made that clear," she snapped and I fought the urge to smile. "If you don't remove yourself from the property so she can get into her car and leave without you interfering, I'm afraid we will have to call the police to have you escorted off."

I leaned back against the trunk of Blaire's car a little more. "Is that what she said?"

"Yes," the woman muttered. "You've been warned." She spun on her heel and started back toward the doors.

Jesus, was this for real? Blaire had sent some man-hating She-Ra out to tell me to leave or she was calling the cops? I pulled out my phone and sent Blaire a text.

No need to call the cops. I'm leaving.

Peeling myself off her car, I sauntered back to my Jeep. I'd be back tomorrow, after work—just like every other day this week—because I was nothing if not persistent. There had been this yearning in me to learn what the doctors had said in regards to why she'd lost our baby, but my reason for wanting to talk with her went deeper than that... I wanted to be with her again.

I missed her. I missed us.

My phone chimed in my pocket. When I pulled it out and glanced at the screen my heart skipped a beat. It was Blaire.

Just leave me alone, Jason. Everything happened the way it did for a reason. We weren't meant to be together. I can accept that, why can't you? ~ Blaire

My eyes skimmed across the screen, rereading her words. They were wrong on so many levels.

I don't buy that at all. Not even for a second. Bad things happen, Blaire, simple as that. There's no rhyme or reason to it.

I cranked my Jeep and reversed out of my parking space. As I drove past the automatic double doors to the building, I caught a glimpse of Blaire standing on the other side of them. Her face was expressionless as she watched me drive away.

She looked just as broken as I felt inside.

When I pulled into the driveway behind my mom's car, I cut the engine and sat there. I checked my phone to make sure Blaire hadn't responded back and I just didn't hear it, but she hadn't. Slipping it into my pocket, I grabbed my keys and climbed out. Mom met me at the door. She opened it and I walked in past her.

"How did it go? Did you get to talk to Blaire at all this time?" she asked.

I didn't look at her; I already knew the look that would be reflected on her face. It was one I'd seen on more than one occasion since I told her what had happened—hope—and I couldn't stomach the sight of it right now.

"Not really." I opened the fridge and grabbed a soda. "I watched for her the entire visit with Gramps and never saw her."

I was sure the nurses she worked with had some sort of secret code for me being in the vicinity so she would stay away, because too much time had passed for us not to run into each other there.

"But?" There was that sense of hopefulness. It had made its way into her voice now.

It had killed Mom when I told her the news about the baby. Later, when I thought on it more, I understood why. It was like the universe was dead set on bringing all these wonderful things into our lives and then ripping them away just when we were happy and content.

I popped the top on my soda. "There really is no but... One of the girls she works with came out and threatened to call the cops if I didn't leave, so I left."

A gasp escaped her. "She wouldn't."

"I have no clue." I took a sip of my soda and crammed my other hand into my pocket while I leaned against the kitchen counter. "She did send me a text finally."

"What did it say?" She grabbed a rag off the counter and began wiping at an area where whatever it was she'd attempted to cook last night had splattered.

I handed her my phone, the message still pulled up, and let her read it for herself.

"You said the right thing." She handed me the phone back and smiled. "She's just devastated right now over all this, honey. I'm sure she'll come around."

"Yeah, when?" I scoffed. "And I'm just as devastated by this as her." I sounded like a child. I knew this, but I didn't care.

It was the truth.