How could he not feel a single human emotion?
The sound of the doorbell jolted me from those reflections, and I glanced at the front door before looking to my mother. She turned her attention from the glass.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I asked her immediately.
“No,” she answered, getting up out of her chair. She wiped her handson a white rag and moved to open the door. As she did so, I peered out at the front porch, and my breath caught. There, standing on our half-moon doormat, was a boy I recognized immediately. His jade-green eyes were locked tightly on my mother’s blue ones, and his lips were contorted into a polite smile.
“Jared, it’s so nice to see you. Come on in,” she said, having no knowledge of what had actually gone down between the two of us. She knew we weren’t together anymore, but that was all.
“Of course, Ms. Martin,” he answered courteously.
My mother moved aside and gestured for him to come in while I leaped off the sofa, hands flying anxiously to my hair. I certainly hadn’t forgotten what he’d done that night in the park.
I stared at him, going rigid, and thought about what I should do.
If I kicked him out, I would probably have to explain the situation to my mother, or Jared himself might tell her about Neil, and I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t have cared so much if my lover had been just some guy, but he was Neil, the son of my father’s new partner, and I needed to think carefully about how I wanted to tell her about the situation.
I quickly pasted a fake smile on my face to hide my discomfort, even as my heart was throbbing in my throat so hard that it was almost difficult to breathe. Jared, meanwhile, had moved into the living room with a bouquet of flowers clutched in his right hand and a bag in his left.
Seriously? First, he hits and terrorizes me, and now he wants to give me flowers?
And just who told him about my accident, anyway?
He didn’t address me but kept talking to my mother for a few seconds while I stood frozen, staring at his slim form. He was wearing a basic white sweater and a pair of blue slacks.
He looked flawless, like always, but I was the only one who knew just how deceptive that perfect exterior really was.
Gathering my courage, I went over to the two of them hesitantly. I examined the bouquet of red roses and pink gerbera daisies in his hand. I could smell how fresh they were.
“I’ll go fix you some hot chocolate, then,” Mom said.
I hadn’t heard a single word they’d exchanged, and I had no idea what topic of conversation had led them to hot chocolate. All I could do was scrutinize Jared’s elegant face, the finely drawn features and blond hair that I’d run my fingers through so many times while we were kissing on our usual bench at the park. All at once, that angelic face seemed to change into one twisted with rage, and everything flashed in front of my eyes like a movie: his hand rising to strike me, the insults he’d thrown at me, the way he’d folded me over the hood of his car and forced me to do as he said.
A disdainful scowl spread across my face, and I couldn’t hide it.
“Hi,” he said, and I flinched like those were the first words he’d ever spoken to me. He tried to hand me the bouquet, but I refused to accept it.
Where did he get the nerve to show up at my house like nothing had happened?
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I said frostily, clearly surprising him. Jared glanced at the kitchen, specifically at my mother in there, because he, too, was putting on a show for her. He licked his lips before he next spoke.
“I heard about the car accident. I just came to see if you were okay,” he explained, like he had any right to look out for me.
Is this a joke?
“Where was that worry when you hit me in the face?” I asked him pointedly. I still refused to take the flowers and just stared fearlessly at him. If he tried to so much as brush against me again, I would have kicked him right in the undercarriage.
Jared sighed and was obviously uncomfortable. He stood there looking as helpless as a kitten, but I knew full well how violent and dangerous he actually was.
“I lost my head. What guy wouldn’t in a situation like that?” he said defensively, which only made his position worse. I smiled incredulously at what I was hearing and indignantly shook my head.
“There was no reason to put your hands on me, no matter what thesituationwas.” I echoed his word to try to make him understand just how stupid the answer he’d just given me really was. There was no justification for his actions, even if I had gotten with someone else and put off telling him because of his mother’s serious health condition.
I was in the wrong, and I would never deny that, but nothing and no one gave him the right to hit me.
“I’m sorry.” He looked embarrassed and incredibly tense. He just kept rocking back on his heels and glancing around nervously, probably because my mother was still right there. “I was an asshole. I’ve never struck a woman before. Never.” His speech grew breathless. “I was so torn up and angry, but I’ve thought about that despicable act every day since. It’s so far from who I am and how I live my life.” He tilted his chin down, looking everywhere but at me. I had a suspicion that he was about to cry. “I feel so guilty. I was hurt because I…” He stopped, and his eyes finally met mine, displaying a silent suffering that I’d never noticed there before. “Because I loved you,” he whispered, handing me the bag he’d been holding in his other hand.
“At least take this,” he insisted, and I stared first at his shaking hand and then back at his face. “If you don’t, your mother will suspect something,” he added, and I couldn’t argue with that.
