“You can’t do that to me,” she shouts and stares at me like I’m speaking in tongues.
I move closer and see some of my records under the clothes.Justgreat.I’m about to lose it with her mood swings, but I have to remain cool to get away unscathed. But this is the last straw.
“I surely can. It’s my loft, after all.”
Instead of saying anything, Tiffany starts sobbing so loudly that our neighbor’s dog barks. Big, massive tears stream down her cheeks, smudging her makeup. Not knowing what to do in my shock, I walk to her and rub her back, trying to soothe her. After all, I didn’t want to make her cry.
“But I have nowhere to go. What should I do?” she squeaks between sucking in large gulps of air.
I slowly move away from her and take a step back, putting distance between us. “I’m sorry, Tiffany, but I don’t know. This thing between us isn’t working, so you’ve got an hour to pack your shit and leave.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and then Tiffany drops a bomb I didn’t see coming. “Are you sure you want to kick out the mother of your unborn child?”
I snort and shake my head. If Tiffany is pregnant, it isn’t mine. I know it with a hundred percent surety. After a one-night stand had a similar scare three years ago, I made sure I wouldn’t ever be able to father a child. We also used protection every fucking time, even though Tiffany complained about it. My thoughts must show on my face as Tiffany’s face twists into a smug smile.
“Honey boo, I thought you would be happier about the news,” she purrs, grabbing my arm.
I stare at her stoically. “Get your hands off me.”
I don’t want kids.Ever.That’s why I got a vasectomy and always wear a condom. If she’s pregnant, she cheated on me. Even thinking of her fucking some random dude while she slept in my bed makes me see red. I want to smash my fist intothe face of the man who knocked her up, to get some relief from this anger building inside me.
Tiffany’s face crumbles again, and she starts sobbing dramatically. “I knew you didn’t love me. I gave you everything, including the baby, and you still want to break up with me.”
“I know you aren’t pregnant with my child, so quit lying.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I can’t have kids, okay? Unless you cheated on me, there’s no way you’re pregnant.”
Between her cries, Tiffany admits, “There isn’t a baby, but I just wanted to make you stay.”
“You managed the opposite. We’rereallyover.”
As I look into the watery eyes of the woman I thought I loved, I realize that Tiffany is crazier than my other exes. And that’s saying a shit ton since most of my ex-partners are nuttier than squirrel shit. Fuck. How did I manage that? I bet the Guy above is laughing while looking down on my miserable life.That Jackson Reid Bennett always knows how to fuck up his life with the poor choices in women. He will never learn. Har har har.
My main problem is that Tiffany acts like I didn’t just ask her to leave. Her name isn’t on any of the papers, including the lease, meaning I can kick her out any time. It was a little plan B I made when she moved in. She never even questioned my logic. Good for me, bad for her. But what can I do if she isn’t listening?
“Tiff, like I said earlier, you’ve got an hour to leave. If you don’t, I’ll call your brother and ask him to come over. Then your entire family will hear about this.” I say as I look at her again—mascara is running down her cheeks, and her nose is red.
Tiffany whimpers like a hurt puppy and shakes her head. How am I supposed to know what the fuck that means?
“I need words, Tiffany.” She ignores my attempt at communication, so I continue. “Get your shit and go.”
That was the wrong thing to say.Shit.Tiffany walks to the corner where I keep my four guitars. She takes the one I love the most, the Fender I got from my uncle, and before I can do or say anything, she smashes it against the floor—pieces of my favorite thing in the apartment shatter all around us.
“Can you feel how much you’re hurting me yet, Jax?” she asks with glee in her eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout and pull at my hair. Tiffany breaking my guitar alone would have made me break up with her. That guitar was my most valuable possession after Isla. I know I can get a new one, but the emotional value is lost. I try my best to avoid calling women bitches, but damn, this bitch is taking it too far.
“You hurt me, so it’s my time to hurt you,” she replies and takes hold of my other guitar.
I’ve had enough. Taking my phone out of my pocket while keeping eye contact with Tiffany, I call her older brother who lives in Long Island. Tiff’s face falls as she listens to what I tell him. “Hi man, it’s Jax. Um, can you get your sister? She isn’t leaving my loft, even though she no longer lives here.”
He talks back to me while I keep my eyes on her holding my guitar. I only speak whenever I’m asked something, nothing else.
Tiff collapses onto the floor and starts whimpering again when I confirm that he’s on his way with their dad. For a second, my heart hurts for her. There must be something wrong with her.Sane people don’t act like she does—it still didn’t give her permission to use my loft as her personal rage room. Tiffany can explain herself more to her family when they get here. At least I told her what would happen if she didn’t listen.
Think about the silver linings and shit.
