Page 16 of Jilted
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Brett~
I’m sorry to do this to you. You’re a great guy that deserves to be happy. Unfortunately, I’m not the woman that can do that for you. It’s clear to me that Amy is the most important woman in your life, and I refuse to marry a man who can’t put me first.
~Vanessa
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Crumpling the paper, and closing the door, he leaned his head against it and breathed a sigh of relief. Relief! Vanessa had jilted him at the altar. He should be pissed. Upset. But he wasn’t. All he felt was relief – relief that he didn’t have to marry her; relief that he didn’t have to be the one to break it off; and relief that he didn’t have to give up Amy.
“Brett, honey, are you in here?” His mom’s soft voice carried through the closed door.
“Yeah.” He opened the door and turned his back to her, not wanting her to see the lack of emotion on his face.
“Are you okay?”
He plopped down on the couch and dropped his head into his hands. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
His mom sat beside him and gently rubbed his back. “What happened?”
“Vanessa left. Said she wasn’t ready, that she felt we’d rushed things,” he lied.
If he told his mom that Vanessa left him because of Amy, then Mom would insist that it was a sign that Brett should be with Amy. He didn’t want to hear it. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to face the truth.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“I want Amy. I mean… I need to talk to Amy.” Brett slowly turned his head to look at his mother. He’d been pushing his thumbs into his closed eyes so that it would look like he was holding back tears. “Will you go get her for me?”
“Yeah, of course.”
When his mother left, Brett stood and took off his jacket, draping it over the chair. Then he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He had his back to the door, rummaging through his duffel bag when he heard Amy enter.
“Brett?” she said softly.
Slowly, he turned to face her. God, she was beautiful. He licked his lips. “She’s gone,” he said, his voice devoid of all emotion.
“What?” Amy walked farther into the room. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
“She left.” He dragged a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “She left me a note saying she couldn’t marry a man who didn’t put her first.” He watched the color drain from Amy’s face.
“Oh, God, Brett...this is my fault? I’m so sorry.”
Brett held her gaze and spoke slowly, making sure she heard and understood everything he was about to say. “No, it’s not your fault, Amy. I did everything in my power to make her feel better about our relationship, to let her know that you and I were just friends.” Brett shook his head.
“Still... I’m sorry.”
He began to pace the room – something he only did when he was highly agitated or severely upset. Between being left at the altar and the sudden onslaught of emotions he felt toward Amy, he was ready to combust.
“I need to get out of here. I need to get out of this town. You’ve got your car here, right?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Get me the hell out of here.”
Amy looked at him like he had four heads. “Where do you want me to take you?”
Brett shrugged. “I don’t know.”
