Jolene
“Have you talked to him?”Lana stopped by to make sure I’m not wallowing in self-pity. She’s too late, though. I’ve been wallowing for the past two weeks.
“No,” I mutter and pull my blanket up to my shoulders. “Why should I?”
“Because you’re obviously still upset over it. You haven’t been to work since that night. I mean, I know you have a ton of vacation time, but this,” she waves her hands around the coffee table. So, what if there are takeout dishes littering it. Most of those are new-ish. “This is ridiculous, Jolene.”
Why is she being so harsh? My heart was literally thrown into a blender and pureed. This is my process. It’s how I grieve the loss of what I thought I had. “I’ll throw them away later. I don’t feel like getting up right now.”
“No,” she stomps over to me and yanks the blanket off. “You are going to put them away now.” She takes hold of my arm and pulls me off the couch. “Then you’re going to shower because you smell horrible.”
“Gee, thanks for the hygiene commentary.” I love Lana dearly, but today she’s working on my nerves. “But you don’t get it. I thought we would be something more. Something that lasted. Except he’s just like every other man…there until someone prettier comes along.”
She sighs and begins picking up the old boxes. “You don’t know that’s what happened. You didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself.”
What the hell? Did she just defend him? That’s not how this works. She’s supposed to be the one who damns him with me, not the one who takes up for him and asks me to be reasonable. I’ve gone through this before with Carter. That one didn’t hit me nearly as hard as Bentley. I thought we were so much more. “So, I’m the one in the wrong? He had some chick hanging all over him. He didn’t push her off. Not even when he saw me.” My voice rises at the end and I’m sure my neighbors think I’m losing my mind.
Lana throws away the stack of Styrofoam she has and whirls on me. “Number one, I never said he did nothing wrong. Not even when you came and stayed with me after you came back. Number two, just answer one of his phone calls. He’s worried about you and you both need to get out of this limbo. Either get the closure you need or write him off.”
“Wait, you’ve talked to him?” The betrayal that hits me in the stomach is not something I was expecting. She’s not supposed to be talking to him. That’s like best friend code or something.
“I haven’t physically talked to him, so calm down.” She pushes me toward the bathroom, trying to force me into the shower. “He texted me asking how you were, and I told him to give you time. I told you I’d be here for you no matter what. But, Jo, you’ve got to do something. Let him know how you’re feeling or where you want to go from here because as shitty as the situation is, you both need to move on.”
At least she didn’t give him much information. Well, none really. I could demand to see her phone to make sure she’s not lying to me, but she wouldn’t have even brought it up if she was going to. I trust her more than I trust anyone else in the world, even if she is trying to make me act like an adult. I’d much rather stay in my jammies, curled up on the couch. “Fine,” I pout. “I’ll consider talking to him. But I’ll take a shower first because you’re right, I smell horrible.”
She’s sitting on my couch when I get out of the shower and looking at what my TV is paused on. “You’re still watching his games?”
She didn’t see it earlier because the screen goes dark once it’s been paused for a certain amount of time. “Yeah. Just because I’m pissed at him doesn’t mean I don’t want to see him succeed. He’s worked his entire life to be in the position he’s in, and he deserves that.”
“That means you still care,” a knowing smile replaces her shock. “You really need to talk to him.”
“I will, but tomorrow. He needs to focus on his career tonight and he hasn’t even been playing that much. Right after I left, he started playing like shit and he’s been on the bench a lot.” I feel bad for him being in that position, but a small part of me was happy that he’s as miserable as I am. Does that make me a horrible human? Maybe. That’s beside the point, though. It means that he cares and hopefully knows he massively screwed up.
“Damn, that sucks.” She shakes her head and moves over to make room for me. “Do you want me to stay and watch with you?”
“Not really.” I sit down next to her. “I don’t enjoy having company with my misery. It’s not a becoming look, as you saw when you got here.”
“That’s true. Please don’t let it get that way again. I don’t want to have to come check on you every day like my parents have to do with my grandma.” She stands to leave. “But I will if I have to. I’m not going to let you go down in a pit of sadness. At least, not until you know what you’re going to do when it comes to him.” She leans down and gives me a hug. “Seriously, call me if you need me. I’m off for a couple of days.”
“I will.” She glares at me as if she doesn’t believe me. Not that she has no reason to since I’ve avoided all phone calls for the past week, but it makes me laugh. “I promise. No more living in filth because my heart hurts.”
“Yep. Or I’ll kick your ass.” Without another word, she walks out of my apartment. Even when she delivers those hard truths, I’m happy to have her on my side. I’m especially happy that she told me to shower because good Lord, was I gross.
All I can do now is watch the man I love on the TV screen and wish that I was there cheering him on.
* * *
The game is about ten minutes from starting. The announcers are going on and on about which teams will make it to the playoffs. They think the Rattlers are one of the teams that will make it to the championship round. That would be a dream for Bentley, but not if he doesn’t get to actually play.
They are talking about his presence on the court being minimal, and I don’t want to hear it. I mute the TV and rummage through my cabinets for popcorn. I could order out again, but I’m not that hungry. This will at least give me some sustenance.
While I’m waiting for the popcorn to be done, I unmute the TV. The game is about to start and I don’t want to miss any part of it. As much as it hurts to watch him play, at least I get to see him. Even though I haven’t talked to him since I bailed on him. I’m not sure anyone could blame me. Any girl in the same position would have likely done the same. Well, maybe not Lana. She would have marched straight up to the woman and cussed her out. I’m not as brave as her, though.
There’s a knock at the door, pulling me from my thoughts. I’m not expecting anyone. Lana left twenty minutes ago, and I don’t think she left anything. Maybe she ordered me dinner or something. She does whatever she can to mama me since my mother sucks. It’s one of my favorite things about her. The knock comes again, and whoever it is isn’t leaving. There’s only two minutes until the game starts so I hurry to the door and swing it open. “Lana, you didn’t have to bring—” My words die on my lips when I see that it isn’t Lana in my doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I glance at the TV then back at the man who is supposed to be on it right this very second.
“I figured this was the only way you’d talk to me.” Bentley’s hands are in his pockets and he looks like he hasn’t had a good night's rest in days. I’m not at my best either. The clothes I threw on after my shower has holes all in it from when I was in high school, and I’m sporting a worn-out pair of yoga pants. Definitely not how I want to look right now.