Page 99 of A Very Merry Mistake

Jake

You were right all along. She was here to scam me out of everything. Go ahead and tell me I’m a fucking idiot.

Hank

I’m sorry, man. Want some company?

Jake

No. This is a lot to process, and I need to be alone.

Alone.

The word hits me like a ton of bricks.

It was my destiny all along, wasn’t it?

A part of my heart believed the two of us could make it work. That possibly, by some fucking miracle, the two of us could be together, and the loneliness we felt would vanish. It was going to take a lot of work.

How fucking naive to believe it was a possibility.

With her father’s company taking the farm from under me, us being together should’ve been the least of my worries. I was focused on the wrong thing. Distraction was probably a part of her scheme.

Love is precious? Love is kind?

No, love is vile, and I no longer believe in it.

My future never included Claire.

It was a fantasy that I wished and hoped would come true. Because she seemed like a dream, a woman who was created just for me, my true opposite, but someone I’d be honored to protect with every inch of my being.

Why did I think she was different?

She wasn’t, even after everything we so intimately shared. I thought it meant something more to her. Now I realize I was just a pawn, a chess piece she could play when needed, a faithful servant to the Manchester princess. What a fool I am.

The nice guy never gets the girl. No, we get shit on and taken advantage of.

I hear the truck crank and the engine roar as she drives away. After ten minutes, I make my way back. When I walk inside my place, every inch of the space reminds me of her, down to the gingerbread house on the counter and the book she was reading on the table.

My stomach growls; I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, but the thought of food makes me sick. So I settle on whiskey.

The first shot burns.

The second one does, too.

By the time I shoot down the third, it’s not as bad.

The fourth makes my throat numb.

I’m a fucking wreck as I replay all the things she’s told me about herself and her need to break all the rules to prove a point to her father. I guess sleeping with me was on that list. Hank’s stupid bet comes to mind, and really, I was the one who fell for her. He’d gotten it twisted.

When I close my eyes, I see her naked body underneath mine. And last night, in her sleep, she’d clearly said she was in love with me.

Awake, Claire would never admit that, but her sleep-talking self always spilled her secrets. Even her subconscious wouldn’t talk about her true identity, though. She only mentioned things about relationships, and over the last week, it’s been all about me. I got used to her random mumbles about being in love and never wanting to leave Merryville. I was patiently waiting for her to come to the conclusion in her waking hours. After visiting my grandma, I felt like Claire was almost there.

Never could I have predicted Lacy would use Claire as a weapon, a knife that she drove straight through my heart. Not that I care what anyone in town thinks, but I’m sure Lacy is having a field day telling anyone who will listen. She’s probably already restarted her smear campaign, making me out to be some monster who was helping Manchester Holdings destroy Merryville. My imagination goes wild, so I take another shot, hoping it will weaken the relentless thoughts that are threatening to take over.

The scenario of Claire leaving in January played out much differently in my head. It was nothing dramatic like this.

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