Page 49 of That One Moment

“Just go,” I say, resignation heavy in my heart. What was I thinking? This time, I can’t say I wasn’t. This time, the truth is that I was taking something that was never meant to be mine.

Jamie dips his head and opens his mouth. I’m sure he’s about to argue so I shake my head.

He nods, his eyes not meeting mine. “I’m-” he starts but I cut him off.

“You’re sorry, I know. So am I.” Truth be told, I no longer know what specifically either of us are apologising for. There’s a list a mile long of the mistakes we’ve made.

Jamie disappears into the lounge and comes back with his t-shirt and shoes on. When he’s at the front door he looks at me.

“Are you going to be okay alone?”

“Yeah, Jamie. I’ll be fine. I’m not your problem to worry about.”

Please don’t go. Say you came here for me. Please.

The sound of the door closing echoes through the small space and I walk up to it, resting one hand on the wood before locking it and taking myself back to bed.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jamie

Ten steps. That’s how many it takes to pace the width of my tiny hotel room. Twenty five if I’m going from the door to the foot of the bed. I know because I’ve counted, many, many times in the hours since I left Caiden’s.

Spinning on my heels, I start again. One, two, three, four, five…. Then turn and do it again. My hands flop at my sides, and on each turn I eye my phone on the white sheets of the hotel bed. There’s three missed calls on it - all from Rachel. Nothing from Caiden. But why would there be?

Six, seven, eight….I need to get out of here. Looking out the window, I watch the heavy summer rain batter against the window, taking note of the sea of umbrellas on the sidewalk below me. I’m not opposed to running in the rain but I am afraid of where my feet will take me.

“Why are you really here, Jamie?

Yes, Jamie, why?

I’m still in this fucking hotel, still ignoring my girlfriend, still pulling my hair out over my inability to pack up and leave. Still here. Caiden wasn’t entirely wrong either. At first it was about Cooper - knowing he would have come running when Caiden called, knowing he’d have wanted me to do the same. That’s why I came to Kingston in the first place. But it’s not why I stayed and hiding behind him isn’t fair on anyone.

The truth is, I never let Cooper go. I never got the chance to say goodbye. Not the day he died, not at his funeral. One day he was there, the love of my life, and the next he was gone. Rachel doesn’t deserve my apathy - none of the girls I fucked after his death did. And she doesn’t deserve what I did to her earlier today.

Caiden got under my skin and I let him. Let him bury so deep I feared he could see all my secrets, feared he could tell just how damaged I still am. Caiden pushed and he pushed and I snapped. It wasn’t about Cooper, it was everything to do with Caiden. As much as I know it shouldn’t have happened - and will absolutely not happen again - I can’t bring myself to regret it. I used to think Caiden’s actions were selfish, used to get so angry when Cooper got stuck picking up the pieces, but now I don’t think I’m any better.

My phone rings and I look at the bed in time to see Sage’s photo pop up. I grab it and answer hastily, then take a seat on the edge of the bed. Now that she’s in her third trimester, I’m bracing myself for the call that says it’s go time.

“Sage, are you okay? Is it baby time?” My voice comes out in a rush, all the words meshing together, and I feel the tension bleed from my shoulders when she laughs.

“Calm down, uncle Jamie, baby isn’t making her appearance just yet, it’s still too early. I was calling to check on my best friend. Call it mother’s intuition -”

“You have that already?”

Sage laughs. “Yeah, pretty sure I’ve had it from the instant sperm met egg.” I chuckle along with her. “As I was saying, I called because I was worried about you. After we spoke yesterday, I realised I didn’t actually know what your plans were. Are you coming home soon?”

“I fucked him,” I blurt as I flop onto my back on the bed.

She mumbles what I think is “here we go,” under her breath before addressing me.

“Please tell me that the ‘him’ in this story is not your stepbrother. The twin of your dead boyfriend?”

“Sage.”

“Jamie.”

She sighs loud enough for me to hear over the phone. “What were you thinking? I told you, he’s not Cooper. You can't treat him -”

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