“No.Have you?”
“I’ve tried, but he’s still not calling me back.I think we should go to his house.”
“Have at it.”
“Don’t you want to come with me?”
“I’m really tired, Mark.”
“Oh, okay.Want me to make you something to eat?”
“No thanks.”All she wanted was to hide under the covers and for the world to go away.Rambo whined as he scratched on the door.
“Can I let him in?”
She sighed.“Yeah, and then go away.”
Rambo bounded in as soon as Mark opened the door.He jumped on the bed and tried to lick her face off.She buried her nose in his fur.At least her dog loved her.The meltdown she’d been holding at bay all day broke free and her tears were hot on her cheeks.
Gutted.That was what she was.Jack might as well have carved her heart out with a rusty knife.
She couldn’t sleep.Every time she closed her eyes, Nichole saw Jack’s smile.She heard his silly jokes, saw his lopsided grin when he knew he’d amused her.She felt his hands glide over her skin as he stared down at her with heat in his blue eyes, and in the deep hours of the night, alone in her bed and heartsick, she grieved for what would never be.
When light from the sunrise filtered around the edges of her window shades, she put on her ratty pottery clothes, and after taking Rambo out, she headed for her studio.She was running low on her glitter fairies, so she decided it was a good time to make some more.
Or not.
“Damn it,” she muttered when she messed up another one.Coming in here had been a mistake.All she could think about was the night she and Jack had recreated the scene fromGhost.The only thing she’d accomplished the past two hours was being even more miserable.
Her eyes burned from the ocean of tears she’d shed, and her throat was raw.Angry at Jack and even angrier with herself for falling in love with him, she grabbed the fairy she’d messed up and threw it just as her brother walked in.It hit his chest, then shattered when it fell to the concrete floor.
“Whoa!”He picked up the largest piece.“Didn’t like this one, huh?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Seemed pretty obvious.Jack’s here.He wants to talk to you.”
“Jack?”Her heart bounced madly in her chest.
“Yeah.I didn’t tell him about the recording.Thought maybe you’d want to.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”Fortunately, she could get to her bedroom without passing through the living room.In the bathroom, she cringed when she looked in the mirror.The few minutes turned into twenty—the time it took to get the tangles out of her hair, put on a little makeup to try to conceal her puffy eyes, and a quick change into her favorite sundress.If this was going to be the last time she saw Jack, then she wanted him to see what he was going to be missing.
She took a deep breath as she walked down the hallway.Jack stood at the window, looking out, and she wanted to go to him, wished he would wrap his arms around her and promise that they would be all right.Even though it felt like an ice pick had pierced her heart, she kept her distance.
“Hello, Nichole,” he said before he turned to face her.“I should have talked to you before now.”
“Yes, you should have.At least returned my calls.I know you’ve had an awful week, but I have to say it’s not fun being ghosted.”Mark wasn’t in sight, so she guessed he’d taken Rambo for a walk, which she appreciated.“I—”
He held up a hand.“I really am sorry about that, but you’re better off without me.”
Men were idiots.“Don’t you think that should be my decision?Unless you just don’t want to be with me anymore.”
“I’m sorry, but...”He stared down at the floor, then lifted his gaze to hers.“I don’t have a job or won’t soon.Not that it’ll matter since I’ll be in prison.The thought of you having to visit your boyfriend in prison...”A visible shudder ran through him.“I just can’t do that to you.You deserve better.”
“Stop saying that.Besides, you’re not—”
“Okay, but it’s true.”
