Page 73 of Hiding from Hope

“Wait, Jessie!”

I look back up to Connor, who has the right mind to look guilty. He scratches the back of his head and says sheepishly, “I assume that was him?” My joy is immediately gone, and I level Connor with an unimpressed look.

Jessie looked like he was ready to murder Connor, and the only reason he would be doing that while turning up unannounced was because he was going to hit me with some truth. Truth I think I’ve been waiting for. But the big dumb idiot jumped to conclusions and didn’t even give me a single chance to clarify.

Well, I was done with that.

“I have to go,” I say to Connor and he nods, waving a last goodbye and leaving. I quickly duck back inside the apartment to change and explain everything to Rosie, who is relentless in chasing me around my room for details while I change.

I think it’s about time I set this brooding lumberjack straight.

Jessie

“Wait, Jessie!” Casey’s voice calls after me, but the elevator doors close and I fall back against the wall as it takes me down. Rubbing the heel of my palms into my eyes and cursing myself.

“Fucking idiot!” Addison hasn’t a clue what she’s talking about. It sure as fuck wasn’t Casey’s heart torn from her chest. It was mine.

I know we hadn’t planned to see each other tonight. I just didn’t realize I was sharing her attention.

If I wasn’t enough for Jenny, why would I be enough for Casey?

Fucking. Idiot.

The Uber to my apartment was quick and a complete blur. I don’t remember what the driver looked like or really how I even got inside my apartment, but the walls feel entirely too close and the breath is scant in my lungs.

I pace the floor, not at all worried about the hole I’m possibly wearing into the boards, but ready to flip a table as rage and shame threaten to overtake me.

Anger at myself. I was such an idiot. I took too long. I pushed her away. Away and right into the arms of another man.

I might be a fool, but I was also delusional, like she was ever going to settle with the likes of me.

A normal man would have stayed and fought for her, told flashy-suit-guy to fuck off, that Casey was mine. But the way she looked up at him? The way she hugged him, the delicate smile she gave him, like his presence was precious. I couldn’t… pull her down into my darkness. If she shines brightly, is smiling and glowing, does it really matter whether it is for me or someone else? It should be enough that she is happy and taken care of.

But I’m a selfish bastard, and instead of being happy that she found someone to make her smile, I am fucking pissed! Livid that the future I was only just finally letting myself believe I deserved was snatched out of my hands. And I have no one to blame but myself.

Hope. Hope did this.

Well, hope can fuck right off.

A loud pounding on my door snaps me from pacing and the deep dive my thoughts are taking. I stare at the door, like I could suddenly gain x-ray vision and burn whoever stands there.

I’d rather fray my flesh alive than see a human right now. No doubt it is Addison, ready to berate me for not being at the house, but it is almost fucking midnight, and I am ready to fall into a fitful sleep before I drag my body to the cafe in the morning, make Betty her usual, and forget that these last couple of months ever happened.

The pounding comes again, but this time, the sweet-sounding voice that usually brings me calm shouts back at me, “Open up this damn door, Jessie Jenkins.” Like a pirate to his siren, I’m at the door and aggressively swinging it open to be met with eyes as angry as an ocean during a storm, the deep blue smoldering with a million unspoken words. I push away the feeling of the peace her presence brings me, that she is here, and instead embrace the fury, latching on to the only thing that is keeping me breathing in this moment.

“What the hell was that!?” she seethes. But I can’t find my words. Something like a grunt or a growl leaves my throat, and I just cross my arms.

She shakes her head, and her anger softens. Letting go of a breath, she drops her head before her rageful eyes turn sad and she looks up at me. “Why were you at my apartment, Jessie?” she whispers. I try to read her emotions. Try to find guilt or something, but I can’t. I only see sadness, and it aches. The pain of her misery feels like a heavy weight on my shoulders, and it makes me let go of the anger, allowing it to recede, and I drop my arms.

“I was there to see you,” I manage to croak out.

“And?” she pushes.

“What does it matter, Casey? You’re with Mr. Suit, right?” I couldn’t hide the pain from that statement if I tried.

“What—”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m sorry if that caused a problem or something.” I wave a hand at her and look past her face because I can’t bear to look into those blue eyes as she finally says goodbye to me. “I understand, really. But I don’t think we should keep doing whatever it is we’re doing here.” I claw back at my anger. Holding tight because my chest feels like it’s caving in, and when I finally look back at her face, she has a look I can’t quite make out. Confusion? Anger? Maybe it’s both.

---