Page 98 of Fighting Jacob

Jacob

Lola doesn’t give me a chance to respond to her comment. She just slips into her car, starts the ignition, then takes off down the street. I do love her. I love her with all my heart, but now I understand why she looks at me like she does.

When she handed me my phone, the first photos showed me tucking dollar bills into a stripper’s panties. I was embarrassed, but tell me one bachelor party that hasn’t featured strippers? It was only once I continued scrolling did I realize what her anger centered around. The topless woman I bumped into the morning after Noah's party starred in several photos with me.

The most risqué thing she did was sit in my lap, but the last photo was by far the worst. She was kneeling between my splayed thighs, lowering the zipper on my pants.

Even seeing evidence of my betrayal firsthand hasn’t freed the buried memories in my head. I thought my haziness was because I haven’t had time to sit down and evaluate what happened that night, but this proves that isn’t the case.

I fucked up. I can't put it any more simply than that. And for what? A woman who isn't half the woman Lola is. If everyone weren't relying on me, I'd bury myself in a hole in the middle of New Mexico. Unfortunately, not even death would guarantee me an hour of peace.

My strides into Noah’s room slow when I overhear a conversation in the bathroom. Both voices are female, but I only recognize one of them. Emily.

“When did Noah last see you, Emily?”

I hear Emily sniffle before she replies, “The day of his accident.”

A toilet seat dropping into place overtakes my pulse shrilling in my ears.

“Can you explain to me what happened that day?”

“Yeah... umm...I was rushing to tell Noah... to tell him something important when the traffic became bumper-to-bumper. A police officer said there was an accident and that I had to go another route. When I put my car in reverse, my intuition begged me to stay, so instead of doing as the officer requested, I ran toward the crash scene.”

I float closer to the bathroom, interested in the rest of Emily’s confession. She’s never told me this story.

“A detective who knows Noah was standing behind the police barrier. When he recognized me, he walked over to me, and that’s when I spotted the guitar I had bought Noah for his birthday on the roadside. It was shattered beyond repair.” She chokes back a sob. “But it was nothing compared to how badly Noah’s body was damaged. He was just left of the accident scene... There were half a dozen EMTs working on him.”

A lady with shoulder-length blonde hair bobs down in front of Emily. “Was Noah unconscious by then?”

Emily shakes her head. “No, he said my name when I kneeled down beside him.”

“Then what happened?” the stranger probes.

“Noah started convulsing.” Emily twists a tissue tightly around her fingers. “That’s when I was dragged away from him by his detective friend.”

“Okay. That helps. Thank you for sharing.” The blonde squeezes Emily’s knee before standing. “I think the circumstances that pushed Noah into his comatose state are the reason he reacts negatively any time I mention you during our sessions.”

A sob tears from Emily’s throat. It sounds like it came from a woman who just had her heart cracked into a million pieces. It’s the noise I expect Lola to make if she ever gives in to the hurt I see in her eyes.

“I’m not saying Noah doesn’t love you, Emily. He’s fighting to come back to you. We just need to work out how we can do that in a positive way.”

When the unknown woman spins around without warning, I get busted standing in the doorway like a creeper. With my mind shut down, I blurt out the first thing that pops my head. “Is everything okay? You? The baby?”

Emily looks five seconds from killing me as she grinds out, “We’re fine. Both of us.”

When the lady wearing a white doctor's coat drops her gaze to the barely visible bump in Emily's midsection, I mouth a silent apology. I've never been good at thinking on the spot.

"I’m sorry, Em, you know what I’m like when I’m nervous. I speak out of my ass.”

Emily rolls her eyes as she continues down the corridor. We’re going to the cafeteria for lunch. It’s the least I can do after breaking news of her pregnancy before she was ready. “It’s fine; don’t worry about it. I doubt I can keep my secret much longer. My belly is too round.”

“You could blame it on donuts?”

When she laughs, some of the guilt on my shoulders eases. "Speaking of airless holes, how was your anger management class this morning? Do you still think your counselor is a few nuts short of a fruitcake?"

My thoughts immediately drift to Lola, but I try to keep the mood carefree. “A few nuts short? He’s got enough for two cakes.”

Emily laughs again. It’s nice to hear with how tired she looks. I thought my time away would only be tough on me. If the bags under her eyes are anything to go by, I was way off the mark.

---