"Emma, it's true! Please! I shouldn't have contacted her, but don't make it out to be something more than it is."
I looked at Jackson with dead eyes, forcing myself to keep my head upright. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter why you contacted her. It's enough that you did. Take your hands off me. I never want to see you again."
"Emma, no." Jackson's plea was anguished as he pulled me close, burying his face in my hair. "Sweetheart, I love you. Please don't do this."
His mouth traveled to my lips, kissing me tenderly but I refused to respond. I couldn't feel anything. Jackson's kiss became harder when I didn't respond, becoming desperate. The pressure was so hard that I dimly wondered if my teeth would cut the inside of my mouth.
Jackson broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Sweetheart?" He sounded uncertain and scared.
"Are you going to force me or can I leave now?"
Jackson froze at my words, his hands slowly sliding down my body until they dropped to his sides. He looked stunned and I quickly backed away, needing space. I felt my self-control starting to crumble and I was going to start wailing with grief soon. I needed to get out of there before it happened.
I grabbed my bag that I had dropped on the couch and rushed to the front door. I didn't look behind me, not wanting any more memories of Jackson. I already had enough to haunt me for a lifetime.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next few days went by in a haze. I functioned on autopilot at work, trying to keep the tenuous grip I had on my sanity. A part of me expected Jackson to try and contact me, but his silence told me everything I needed to know.
Somehow, I got through the week without breaking down at work. Nights at home were a different story. All I seemed to do was cry, and when I ran out of tears I would lay in bed, my body wracked with trembles. I spent a good amount of time each morning trying to cover the dark circles under my eyes and minimize the puffiness of my face, but I knew I still looked like hell. I shut down all questions from Celeste and Drew, not wanting to even think about Jackson. Marie knew to keep her distance, only disrupting me when absolutely necessary.
Wednesday had been a nightmare as I wondered whether Jackson and Claire had met up as planned. A sick part of me wanted to go to Starbucks, to see if I could catch them in the act. But it was too pathetic of a gesture and I kept my distance. Friday wasn't much better as I wondered about the interview we had scheduled. What excuse would Marcie give to the magazine for us backing out so abruptly? I was worried what the reaction of the press would be if they got wind of our breakup.
Craig was still waiting for me wherever I went, but I refused to accept his rides. He was reduced to following me around as I jumped into cabs. I ducked into the subway one morning, determined to lose him, but he was waiting for me when I ascended the stairs at my destination stop. Unfortunately, he knew my routine by now and seemed to magically appear everywhere I went. He ignored my frustrated pleas to leave me alone, that he should speak to Jackson since he didn't seem to have gotten the news that Jackson and I were no longer together. As much as I wanted to yell and scream at Craig to leave me alone, I knew that I would just be taking out my hurt and anger at Jackson on Craig. Craig was just trying to do his job, although he seemed a bit misguided about the status of the current situation. I decided the best thing to do was just ignore him.
I was relieved when Saturday rolled around so that I could spend the weekend holed up in bed. I had been obsessively searching Jackson's name online for any news, knowing it was self-destructive but not being able to stop myself. Fortunately, for the sake of my sanity, there didn't seem to be any news about him. So instead, I spent hours staring at pictures of us that were posted on various gossip websites. Jackson looked at me so lovingly in those pictures. I couldn't understand how he could be so tender and sweet, yet betray me once again. I didn't understand why he even bothered trying to restart our relationship when he was planning on cheating with Claire again. I didn't buy his story about just wanting to talk to her. I was done being naive.
I was disgusted with myself that I still jumped every time my phone rang. I told myself it wasn't because I wanted Jackson back, to have him give me some sort of explanation that I could accept. It was because I wanted him suffering as much as I was, I wanted him desperate to talk to me, to win me back. I wanted to believe that a part of him truly meant all those words of love and tenderness that had dropped so easily from his lips. That he was now regretting throwing our relationship away.
But his silence continued. It told me that I was expendable, that I had been fooling myself. If the Jackson Reynard of five years ago couldn't be faithful to me, what made me think that the Jackson Reynard of today could? I had witnessed women falling all over him at Hydra, the subtle and not-so-subtle invitations they gave him through suggestive looks.
I ignored the calls from Trisha and my mother, knowing that I wouldn't be able to speak to them without breaking down. I couldn't explain to them what had happened. I especially didn't want to talk to Trisha. She would be nothing but sympathetic, but I knew what she would be thinking. That I had let myself be tricked again. Stupid, naive Emma. So desperate for Jackson's love that she was willing to let herself get duped again.
I was in no better shape on Monday morning, glaring at Craig when I saw him waiting for me outside my apartment building. My hostility towards Jackson was translating into rudeness towards Craig, even though I had told myself it wasn't Craig's fault. I was about to pass by him without a second look when he stopped me with an outstretched hand.
"Ms. Mills, I have something for you."
I stopped, dropping my gaze to his hand. He was holding an envelope towards me but instead of reaching for it, I frowned.
"I don't want it."
"Please, Ms. Mills. I'm in a very...difficult position. Please take the letter, otherwise, there's going to be hell to pay. And I'm going to be the one paying it."
My gaze softened at Craig's pained look. I reminded myself once again that it wasn't fair to take my anger out on Craig. I could only imagine how difficult it would be to work for someone as unyielding as Jackson.
Craig looked relieved when I took the letter, watching me shove it inside my purse. "Ms. Mills, I hate to interfere, but I thought you should know that Mr. Reynard...he's not doing well."
I shook my head, not wanting to hear more. "I'm sorry, Craig. I'm sorry that you have to follow me around when I'm sure there's more important things you could be doing. I don't know why Jackson is insisting that you still trail behind me, but I don't care at this point. And I certainly don't want to hear anything about him." My heart screamed that I was a liar, that I was desperate for any information about Jackson. But I ignored it. My self-preservation kicked in and I knew I had to eradicate Jackson from my heart and mind again, no matter how hard it was going to be. It was the only way I was going to survive. Unfortunately, I was experienced in this matter.