Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez
Chapter Forty-Two
Jasmine
Last night was the best night of my life, but when I woke up, Alex wasn’t in bed. But what was there was a cold void. An emptiness had already filled the room.
I lay in bed for a few minutes, attempting to reenforce the walls I constructed over the years, but they’re already crumbling. Would he leave without even saying goodbye? My heart slams like a jackhammer in my chest before falling to my stomach, wrenching and twisting until nausea builds, threatening to climb my esophagus. With each pound I try to choke back the swelling sadness that engulfs me, growing like a festering wound, and infecting all of our precious memories.
Finally, clamping down on the emotional turmoil, I’m in the middle of pulling my pants in place when the door clicks open. When I look up and meet Alex’s stare, it’s confirmed. We touch eyes for only a moment, but I can read it in his eyes, his posture, and the coldness that he drug back into the room. The game is on, or am I just being paranoid? Would Alex do that to me the morning after we made love? My heart breaks all over again, because yes, he would.
He drops his eyes first, staring at the ground as he walks to the table by the window, laying bagels down as he sits, still not looking at me.
I join him in his silence, wondering what I should say, how I should approach this. Does he regret what we did last night? Finally, I build up enough courage to say something. It’s that or go crazy in this silence.
“Are we okay?” My voice is barely above a whisper, trying to speak past the lump in my throat.
His response is indifferent, calculated. “Yep.”
I trace him with my eyes, trying to figure out where he plans to take the game now. Are we back to square one?
“What do you want to do today?” I continue. My voice is embarrassing, almost pleading for him not to do this.
“I’m going to hang with my boys today.” He leaves it at that, pushing me away again. I can tell by the coldness of his words, and the lack of emotion he’s emanating, he’s already done with us. My Alex would never do this, not to me, not after last night.
“All right. Well, what about tonight?” I’m practically begging him without being on my knees. I knew we’d have to part at the end of this trip, but I thought we could do it amicably.
“I’ll be with them most of the night.” He still hasn’t met my eyes, completely blowing me off. Maybe I should just get the hint already, but I don’t want to let it go, not like this.
“Alex, what is this?” My throat is thick, the words hard speak.
“Nothing. We’re good,” he says, as if nothing is amiss.
He takes the last bite of his bagel and wipes his hands on his pants. Watching him, I lose my appetite, placing the uneaten bagel on the table and look out the window at the ocean as the waves lap at the white sand. It’s getting harder and harder to get the baseball size lump out of my throat, and I can’t seem to swallow around it anymore; it’s suffocating. I use the rest of my strength to keep the tears from my eyes.
Alex stands, and I know he’s ready to leave. “I’m going to take off.” He points over his shoulder toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”
My throat is tight, and all I can do is nod. Meeting his eyes would rip my heart out and throw it in the sand, so I keep them peeled on the calm water, hoping it’ll soothe my shredded nerves, but it’s doesn’t.
He tosses his garbage into the trash and walks out the door without so much as a glance in my direction.
As soon as the door closes, I lose it. The tears break loose and my heart squeezes until I think it’ll pop in my chest. This feeling is all too familiar. It’s similar to the one I had when they told me Jace died.
We could have parted as friends, friends with a wonderful memory shared. Sure, it would have been hard to let him go, but anything is better than this, the way I’m feeling right now. It’s hard to believe that Alex could just shut me out like I mean nothing.
Unless he felt nothing. Could he be playing with me this entire time? Was this his true game, to have sex with me, and then leave? Did he see me as some poor, broken idiot? I squeeze my eyes closed tight, blocking the self-doubt. I don’t want to think about it. Last night meant everything to me, and if it truly meant nothing to Alex, it’ll crush me. I wipe my tears, wanting to think that his actions are because of the game. That he cares.
Suddenly, my entire body is heavy. I just want to lie down and never get up again. I toss myself on the bed, pulling the pillow tight against me, using the fluff as a barrier to the pain. Alex’s scent is embedded in the fabric. I expect tears to stream down my face, but they lay dormant. My heart weighs a thousand pounds, yet I still lay here emotionless, staring at the white walls of what used to be our room.