“AJ, it’s not like that. We had this talk, and I apologized. I confused my feelings for you with something more than they were.”
He swung his hands out, his movements exaggerated, large and clumsy. “Damn right you did, and you fucked with me while doing that shit. And I’m a sad fucking sack because of it.”
“I don’t know what else you want me to say, other than I’m sorry.” I reached behind me, gripping the door, looking for purchase as though I might fall.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” He spat out the words, his eyes narrowed. “Quit the diner. I go there. Quit Shirley. She’s fucking bad. Didn’t you ever hear her story? She’s bad fucking news. In fact,” he said with a sneer, “why don’t you go back to your new man, Mr. High-and-Mighty in Florida, and get the hell out of here altogether. This is my small town.”
My head was spinning. Shirley? Why Shirley? I needed her. Although, it now occurred to me that I’d also kept a distance between her and me, only sharing about myself. I needed to change that too. Needed to connect with her story and care for her, not just let her care for me.
The sound of glass shattering dragged me out of my head. I jumped and yelled, “What the hell?” not knowing what just happened. And then I saw it. The jar that I’d kept on the mantel with the sand and shells from Lane was spread out all over the floor, shattered and broken like my heart.
Brooks leaped toward AJ, barking, warning him to keep his distance, but AJ didn’t pay any mind. He kept walking right toward me. With my eyes on my only memento of my time with Lane, I whisperednoto myself. I treasured that votive. It was all I had left of that weekend, and now it was gone.
I didn’t have time to dwell on it because AJ leaned into my face. “Is that what you do now? Make pretty little pieces of shit to remind you of that guy?” he yelled, his mouth tight, his hands flexing at his side.
There was no time to answer because my cell phone, plugged in on the kitchen counter, started to buzz. AJ spun me around and said, “Get it! It’s probably Shirley. Tell her you’re busy!”
With a trembling hand, I picked up the phone. When I saw who was calling, my heart cracked.
“Hello,” I said, trying to control the shakiness in my voice. I turned away from AJ, pressing my hip into the counter, leaning all my weight into it until it pinched my side.
Lane’s voice swept over me. “Bess, I know I said you should call me only if you wanted, but I couldn’t wait. I know I messed up, and I need your forgiveness. Please?”
From the other side of the room, AJ shouted, “What the hell is this expensive piece of shit? You on the job, Bess? I didn’t make enough money for you? I said, what the hell is this? Tell me now!”
Frozen, I couldn’t make myself turn around; the countertop would have to hold me. I was all limbs and no spine.
“What was that? Who is that? Are you okay? Bess!” I heard coming from the phone, but I couldn’t answer.
I jerked as something sharp hit my head and fell to the floor. It was the Tiffany’s box. Stunned and disbelieving, I rubbed the spot where it nicked me, unable to move other than lifting my hand to comfort myself.
“Bess, hang up the damn phone and turn around and answer me!” AJ demanded.
I closed my eyes as Brooks went crazy, barking louder than I’d ever heard him as AJ’s footsteps pounded toward me. My world spun all around me; the voice on the phone sounded so far away.
I felt it slipping from my hand, and then everything went black.
