I stare at the folded paper in my hand, with shaking fingers, the envelope discarded, now lying on the
bed with his neat scroll on the front. I take an eternity to run my fingers across the neat lettering, pain
shooting through me from every angle. I inhale deeply steadying my nerves, unfolding the thick cream
paper, biting my lip. I drag courage from somewhere telling myself I should dive in and do it.
Emma,
I’m sorry, bambino, so extremely sorry. I don’t even know what writing to you is going to achieve, but I
had to do something. I saw them packing up every piece of you and I had to stop myself from tearing it
out of their hands and holding onto it all. I can’t bear it. I feel like everything they remove is a slash
across my heart.
I know I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll do anything to have it, anything to
get you back. I made a stupid mistake, I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I wanted to lash out at everyone.
I’ll never hurt you again, I swear, just give me a chance to
fight for you. I’ll never give you reason to doubt me again.
I hurt the one person I love and need more than anything in the world.
I won’t ever make that mistake again, being here without you is a torture, so unbearable I can’t breathe.
I can’t get you out of my head or the way you looked at me when I told you what I’d done. It was like a
knife being thrust deep into my chest and turned and I know what I’ve done. You don’t need to punish
me, baby, nothing is as bad as this and no punishment could come close to the pain I’m in right now
without you. I’ve never felt regret like this before and never intend to earn it again.
Please. Talk to me. I just want to see you, look at you, and have you near.
I’m slowly going insane without you, baby. I need you. I love you and I can’t, won’t lose you. I’ll fix this.
Just give me a chance.
Jake x
Tears roll down my cheeks dripping onto the paper and I watch in agony as some of the ink from his
signed name bleeds across the surface. I watch in dismay as his name becomes a blur of stained grey
and throw the letter on the bed as though it’s burned me.
It hurts more than I thought it would, reading something he wrote for me, connecting to him in some
small way. It hurts because I miss him, so damn much and I’m literally dying of pain. Everything he
wrote makes me ache and want to see him more. I’m so confused; in turmoil about what to do. His
words have cut me to the core with longing and anger, so much love from one man. Yet he’s capable of
cutting out my heart in one selfish childish act. I want him right here with me, but my mind wants to
punish him by staying away.
I pull my phone out of the bedside drawer and switch it back on. I turned it off days ago, after his third
text, unable to cope anymore, hoping to find relief in the silence. I needed a break to be alone and
process things. It bursts back into life and I try to steady the inner wave of tears and fear waiting to
drown me. I need to do this if I have any desire to move forward in any way. I need to see what he
wants to say and decide where I go from there. Sarah is right. I can’t dwell on hoping that I’ll wake up
fine tomorrow and forget all about it. The only way to sort this is to face it head on and start taking
steps to either fix us or forget him.
When my phone is fully caught up, I flick to my texts from him, opening the oldest one unread in the
row on display.
I love you and I miss you xx I’m sorry, baby. J
I bite my lip and quell the new onslaught of tears, moving to the next text quickly, like ripping off a
Band-Aid fast, trying to avoid the overemotional response to each one.
I wish you would just say something, anything. Even if it’s to just yell at me and tell me you hate me.
Silence is torture. Xxx J
My hand’s tremble as I trace the words on my screen. My heart aching for him like a pathetic idiot. My
fingers hover on the kisses longingly for a moment before I shake myself out of it. I notice under the
third message is one more; a new one received when my phone was off, updating now.
Tell me what to do. What you need from me. Talk to me. Please. Xxx J
Another punch in the gut and another tear to my collection, I sigh, biting back the tremble on my bottom
lip and push the next one open.
I can’t do this; I’m going to end up banging down your door just to see you. Please, Emma. Reply or
something. I got every bunch of flowers, every piece of jewelry, and every gift sent back to me. Emails
ignored; texts ignored. You’re not giving me any choice but to show up and fight for you, baby. I love
you too damn much to let this go and I’m going crazy with this silence, we had so much, too much, to
just let it end this way. Xxx J
My breath catches in my throat at the last one, a mix of heartbreak and something else, a tingle of
something I can’t even pinpoint. I should be angry with the way he’s text me but strangely I’m not. He
should be groveling at my feet for my forgiveness.
This is the Jake I need to see. The one who ignores all and comes pounding after me regardless. The
Jake who came after me to Chicago despite me saying no. The Jake who always pursues me because
he can’t help being the dominant one.
Do I want Jake to show up and break down my door just to see me? Prove to me he will fight for me?
Maybe I do. Maybe it’s partly what I need from him, that instinctual way he cuts through everything, to
come for me regardless of protest.
I shake the thought aside and open my email app, logging into my personal account quickly, before I
can linger on my confusing thoughts, there are two.
Jake Carrero has sent you an iTunes song.
Jake Carrero has sent you Beyoncé–Halo.
Attached message – I never had a way to resist letting you in, you’re my angel baby. The light in my
world, the reason I want to be better, you’re in everything I look at, you’re always around me even when
you’re not here. You’re the voice in my head that tells me to be a better man. I waited a lifetime to find
you and I’m not going to lose you now. Talk to me Emma, Please. I need to know what you’re feeling
and thinking. I won’t just lose you without a fight. Xx J.
The use of our old mode of communication hits me like a punch to the heart; painful yet not. Memories
of how sweet he can be, how attentive, funny, and loving. It confuses me more and despite myself I
press play on the song as I agonize over his sweet words.
Listening to it almost breaks me, more tears and more internal assault, as I imagine Jake saying every
single word to me. I can’t stop the ache of longing or the insane depths to which I miss him. Each lyric
clawing at me reminding me of all the good in him and the way he shows me love, the way he’s always
expressed his devotion without any hesitation, it hurts so much.
When the song ends, it lingers in my head for a while before I have the strength to read his last email.
Thoughts of his touch, his kiss, his heart like a bittersweet torture.
I tried your cell and got your answering machine a dozen times. I hate that you don’t want to talk to me.
Just tell me what to do, baby … Please. I’m literally on my knees begging here. Xxxx J
I have no clue in which order the emails and texts were sent, my head too frazzled to care. The point is
I’ve done it. I’ve read them, despite the emotional turmoil, the tears, and the ache to see him and yet,
I’m still breathing.
The salty warm tears are pouring down my face and I slump back onto my bed staring at the ceiling,
my head a whirling mass of crazy emotions and thoughts. I don’t know what to say to him or what I
need from him. I’ve never been here before, never dealt with this kind of heart ache, or been in a
situation where I’ve freely given my trust away only to have it wrenched apart like a worthless rag. The
thought of never seeing him again destroys me but the thought of him brings a full vision of his mouth
on hers that tortures me. I’m so stuck between two excruciating realities I can’t breathe.
I hold the phone above my face and read his texts once more, wanting his nearness through the only
contact I’ve allowed. My heart constricts and twists inside of me. I devour the messages over and over,
memorizing them until etched into my heart, absorbing the words, letting the slice of agony they cause
dim. Trying to find calm in my chaos yet still being connected to him in some small way.
What do I say? If I say nothing he’ll come here at some point, I know him. Jake won’t sit back forever
and wait. Do I even want him to come?
I don’t know if that’s what I want; my mind and body are at odds with one another, fighting a grand
battle to the death. Self-preservation, PA Emma, telling me to keep him out, the new weaker me
begging to let him come.
I sit up, take a deep breath, and wipe my face, steeling myself to do this; to do something. I don’t want
him to sit suffering with my silence indefinitely, despite the pain he’s caused me. I can’t do that to him. I
can’t keep inflicting silence when he’s trying in any way possible to reach out to me. My hands tremble
as I impulsively type a response.
I needed head space to think. I’m confused and heartbroken. You hurt me. I don’t know what I need
from you so how can I tell you what to do? X Emma.
I look at the text before I send it then inhale heavily, emotions swirling up again, my hands shaking
violently. If I don’t know how to deal with my head, then what chance does he have? This day may kill
me after all.
My phone beeps seconds later. My heart skipping a beat, and when I swipe my phone my fingers
shake.
Let me pick you up so we can talk face to face. X J
I inhale sharply as panic sets in knowing it’s too soon. I don’t know if I can handle seeing him right now.
My heart bleeds that he’s so quick to connect, like he’s been waiting, it feels like he’s right here beside
me. But he’s not, he’s somewhere alone, mirroring what I’m doing, touching me instantly when I need
him, like he always has done.
What happens if I can never handle seeing him again? What happens if this destroys everything, so I
can never move on? Maybe it’s better to try to see what happens rather than hide and die a slow
painful death of heartbreak?
I grab onto my hair at the temples of my head tugging in frustration, my emotions and brain are
tormenting me relentlessly. I can’t pick one path to follow and it’s driving me insane.
I take my phone from my lap and stare at it, taking a deep and calming breath before deciding what to
do and what to say.
Not yet. I need time to digest all the messages and your letter. I only just read them. Give me time,
that’s all I ask. My response to your song, Jake, Beyoncé, “Broken-Hearted Girl”
X
I sigh with a deflated breath as it sends onto him. My heart aching a little, but I can’t see him, not yet.
This war raging inside of me, relentlessly consuming my thoughts, needs to be dealt with first. The
song expressing the craziness of what’s going on inside of me. I’m scared about his response, holding
my phone with bated breath. I wonder if he’ll listen to the song, pondering it and then my phone
beeps.
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