Audrey smiles softly, and I love how her eyes have lost the pained look from before. Now they shine with contentment and comfort.
While it hasn’t been completelysmooth sailing staying at Jamie’s house, I can’t say I’ve hated it either. I’ve taken advantage of his massive steam shower, and doing my weekly meal prep in his dream of a kitchen was a highlight for the week. Chelsea came over one night to enjoy a bottle of wine in his large backyard, filled to the brim with every item made to entertain. An enormous covered porch with wrought-iron furniture faces a large brick wall where a television hangs over a fireplace. There’s a massive built-in grilling station, including a sink and small fridge, off to the side. Beyond the porch, an in-ground jacuzzi and lap pool sit, surrounded by a good sized area of grass. Colorado is known for packing homes in where there are hardly any backyards to speak of, but Jamie’s is well above average. Beyond the yard, a sweeping view of the Rockies to watch the sunset behind.
I grew up in wealth, but our house was slammed on a tiny lot in a Denver suburb. Nothing like this. We always had our curtains and blinds closed, because any of the neighbors could look right in from their lots. Nothing like this, where halfthe windows face onto an open space. Jamie’s bedroom has a balcony with even better views, and I’ve taken to opening the door each evening to allow fresh air in, as well as admire the mountains as I fall asleep.
The final morning of Jamie’s trip, I struggle to determine if I should pack everything up now, or wait until he gets home. It’s possible he’ll want his space to unwind, and I’d hate to feel like I’m encroaching on him. But, he may also hope that I’m here.
Packing my things will take a bit, especially getting the pigs settled in the carrier, and Jamie won’t get in until well after dinnertime. It’s an almost five hour flight from Miami to Denver, but courtesy of the time change, he makes up two hours in flight.
Still, I’m not quite sure what he may want, so I decide to call him and bluntly ask. Jamie has assured me on more than one occasion that he wants me to be honest with him, so that’s what I’m going to do.
When the call connects, but no one speaks, I pull my phone away from my ear to see if we’re still connected. I can hear some background noise, but nothing else. “Jamie?”
“Look, I don’t know what you expect from me right now, Troy.”
“I asked for clarification. I need to know what to expect.” It takes me a moment to remember that Troy is Jamie’s sports agent. He’s spoken highly of Troy, but he never mentioned Troy would also be in Miami.
“No, you’re being nosy as fuck. There’s nothing to tell.”
“You suck at lying, man. And I’ve known you too long for you to pull off an acceptable fib. I need to know if you’re with the vet or not.”
Jamie sighs loudly, and I wonder where his phone is that I can hear it so clearly. My heart beat quickens, waiting with bated breath for his response. “There’s nothing to tell, Troy.”
“Yet she’s watching your cats right now,” Troy comments.
“And? We fucked a few times. That’s it.” Ouch. That’s one way of keeping our relationship secret. Unless … what if it really is the case?
“Dammit, Jamie, I told you not to shit where you eat. Your fucking charity event is in two weeks. How are you going to handle that?”
“I have it handled. I’ve got it under control.”
“Oh, yeah? How so?” Troy says, a challenge clear in his tone.
“I told her we have to keep our relationship a secret. She’s fine with it.”
“And you’re gonna keep her on the line until after the event? That’s surprising, actually. Pretty cold-blooded for you. Wait. Is this the girl you told me about? The one you were interested in?”
“No, no. Different girl. Same timeline, different girl.”
And it’s as if the bottom drops out on my life.
I should have known. I should have fucking known.
In what world would a superstar athlete ever want me? Of course he was just using me for his own benefit. I’ve been doing most of the heavy lifting for his event, since he’s been so busy this summer. I’ve finalized the linens, the guest list, all of the bachelors for the auction, and the centerpieces. I worked with the live band on a list of approved songs, and the venue staff on the overall schedule. In fact, looking back, I don’t think Jamie made one decision since we agreed on the menu so many weeks ago. He’s agreed with my choices, but hasn’t really participated.
I pull the phone from my ear, bringing a shaky hand to touch the screen and end the call. It was all too good to be true. I should have trusted my gut, and never let myself fall for him. But I guess I didn’t fall for him. I fell for the mask he put on for me. The role he decided to play. Hell, maybe he isn’t even autistic. Maybe everything has been a game to him, including crushing my heart.
In an almost zombie-like state, I float around Jamie’s massive home, removing every element of my existence. One of my favorite blankets ended up here two weekends ago, and a coffee mug sits next to an espresso machine. He’d added another reading chair in his office for me, so I could sit and watch the guinea pigs, but he paid for it, so it stays. I pack up the pigs, being careful to leave any of the items he bought. I make a mental note to add up everything he purchased at my townhouse. I’ll have to go with a ballpark number, but I refuse to feel like I owe him even one cent.
I load up my car, being sure to take out his garage door opener, and remove his key from my keyring. Ripping a piece of paper from one of the notebooks on his desk, I write him a goodbye note, and let him know any and all communication about the event will be made through the foundation. Then I block his number.
I pick up Maverick and Goose separately, giving each cat a cuddle and chin scratch, telling them I love them so much, but their Daddy is a dumbass and heartbreaker, so it’s his fault I’m leaving. I have no shame in admitting who’s at fault here.
Taking one last, longing look at his home, I pick up Flash, then leave for the final time.
Upon arriving home, I get every animal situated, then collapse onto my couch. I can’t go into my bedroom yet. My last night in that bed, I spent wrapped up in Jamie, feeling like I was on top of the world. Like I’d met my match. The partner who would conquer life with me. I thought we complemented each otherso well, and I loved how he comprehended my struggles with everyday life.
How am I supposed to find someone who gets me?
