Elevator ➵ J.M.

47. I Hate You

f o r t y - s e v e n

"LOOK I KNOW YOU DON'T want to talk to me," Raymond says, "but you need to listen to me." His voice crackles through the phone. "I shouldn't be doing this on voicemail. Amber, I'm getting remarried, and I'd really like it if you could come."

A chuckle escapes my mouth. This is what the big news was? God, I thought it was something about my mother. He knows I'm not coming to this wedding, right? I mean, he walked out on us years ago for some random red-head.

"So, you going?" Jonah asks from behind me, clearly eavesdropping.

"No," I respond. "No, he doesn't deserve it."

"But he's trying, Amber. He's trying to reach out to you."

"Yeah? Well, he's a few years too late," I reply, glaring into his eyes and walking away.

I don't care. I don't. It's his life now! He was a grown-ass man who knew the consequences of his actions. I shouldn't care. I don't. It doesn't matter to me at all. He can marry a fucking swamp monster for all I care. He left. He had a choice. It's not my fault. 

As much as I tried reassuring myself, I felt myself sinking deeper into a pit.

I sat down on my bed and put my head in my hands. Rubbing circles on my forehead, I tried to calm down.  All I ever wanted after that incident was him to reach out. But now, it's too late. I should be mad at him. I want to be mad at him.

I can't help but think about the girl he roped in this time. Is she pretty? Where does she work? Does she have kids? 

Throwing my head back into the fluffy covers, I mutter, "I don't deserve this."

"You don't."

"Stop following me, creepo," I say with a light smile, throwing a pillow at Jonah. 

With a sigh, he lies down next to me. 

"So, you going?"

"You know I am."

"Yeah, I always did."

"That's not fair that you knew before I did," I pout.

"Well, let's go through my reasoning, shall we?" he asks, sitting up. "Your father, who you loved years ago, finally reaches out to you. Far too late, I agree, but he did. And he's getting married! You would obviously go through the original stages of denial and say, 'I hate him for everything he's done for me! I'm never going!'

"But then, reality would strike in. You would realize that despite all he's done for you, you still love him because he's your dad. Plus, the curiosity about the new girl would kill you. Hence, I concluded, you will go."

"I hate you."

"I know that, too."

After a moment he adds, "Want some coffee?"

"You know the answer to that."

"I know. I'm all-knowing. You may now call me a genius."