He’s not a relationship kind of guy. I was just foolish enough to make myself believe for a little while he was because I wanted him so badly.
Irrespective, I still need to talk to him. If not to just get my stuff and get the hell out of here.
My heart is pumping hard, as I dance quiet steps around the male and female sleeping bodies, no one so far that I recognise, as I look for Jake.
But he’s nowhere to be seen in this huge mass of space called a living room.
I knew he wouldn’t be. I was just delaying the inevitable.
He’ll be in the bedroom. I’m just afraid of what I’m going to find when I go in there.
As I pass by the marble coffee table, I see the remnants of white powder on it, and rolled up notes.
Anger flexes through me. That’s a sure sign, as if the party wasn’t enough, that Jake doesn’t give a shit about me anymore.
I thought his love for me was just buried. But now I’m starting to think maybe it was never there in the first place.
Walking slowly to the bedroom, my heart beats a steady pain in my chest.
The bedroom door is closed.
Reaching out my trembling hand, I lace my fingers over the handle, and take a deep breath in.
Please let him be alone in there. Please. I can just about forgive the partying and the drugs. But anything else, no.
I push down on the handle and slowly open the door.
My heart bangs hard, once, against my chest, then sinks down into my stomach.
And I look on feeling like my world has comes crashing down all around me, as I stare at the sight of Jake in bed with another woman.
He’s faced away from me, but I know it’s him, I’d know that tattooed body anywhere.
For a moment, I literally don’t know what to do.
I’m paralysed.
The the life I envisaged with Jake flashes before my eyes, then very slowly, and very painfully slides from out of my vision.
My bag slips off my shoulder and drops to the floor with a thud.
The girl stirs, opening her heavily made up eyes, rubbing them to panda, she focus in on me standing here in the doorway.
She’s wearing only a bra, and I’m hoping, panties under the sheets.
I feel physically sick. Sicker than I have ever felt before in my whole life.
She frowns at me, and I feel like an intruder.
Then I see what I think is a flicker of recognition in her eyes, almost like she knows me.
But I for sure as hell don’t know her.
“What are you doing in here?” she asks in a not-so-nice-voice.
I open my mouth, ready to ask her the very same fucking question, but nothing happens. I’m like a goddamn gold fish. The one time I need my mouth to work and it fails on me.
Giving me a dark look, she reaches her hand over and shakes Jake.
He groans. Rolling over onto his back, he reaches his hand out and mumbles, “Tru.”
I open my mouth again but it still won’t work.
I know I should be screaming, shouting, doing something, but I just can’t seem to get my brain and body to function. I haven’t even blinked yet.
Jake’s eyes open slowly, garnering focus.
He sees the girl first. I see confusion gather on his face, then his head turns, almost as if in slow motion, and he sees me standing here in the doorway.
His expression freezes. Then he jumps up out of bed.
I don’t why, but I feel relief that he’s still wearing his boxer shorts. Like that somehow makes it better, even though I’ve just found him in bed with another woman.
“Oh no! Nononono!” He holds his hands up, advancing around the bed, coming toward me.
The very bed we made love in two nights ago. The bed he told me he loved me in. The bed that he’s just slept in, with her. Done … whatever, with her.
“No, Tru! This is not what you think!” He stops a few feet away from me.
I stare blankly across at him. I can’t do anything else.
And right here and now, I know exactly how Will felt when I told him about Jake and me. At least I saved him from the actual burning image of it in his mind, like this is now chagrined into mine.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?!” Jake roars at the girl, turning in her direction.
She visibly flinches. Then she scurries up out of bed, retrieving her dress from the floor, pulling it on quickly, and putting her feet her tacky black heels.
“Tru…” Jake takes a step forward, moving closer to me.
I step back, bumping with the open door.
“I didn’t have sex with her. I swear to you – tell her!” he turns on the girl again. “Tell her I didn’t have sex with you!”
She looks at me defiant. And in this moment, I see how young she actually is. Nineteen – twenty, max.
Walking toward us, passing between Jake and me, she simply smiles sweetly at me, shrugs and walks through the open doorway.
“NO!” Jake roars. “Tru, she’s lying! I didn’t have sex with her! TELL THE FUCKIN’ TRUTH! TELL HER I NEVER TOUCHED YOU!”
But the girl is well out of the room, moving quickly out of the suite, avoiding Jake’s wrath.