CHAPTER151
We get to the airfield in the dark. Marissa is traveling with us, invading my territory, and I resent her presence. She’s wearing Jake’s sunglasses over her pale face, despite the late hour; I’m guessing she has puffy eyes from crying, and even that tiny little detail causes me so much internal trauma. Those glasses are always meant for me, not her.
She looks effortlessly seductive in a clingy, cream dress that showcases her curves and long, curled hair. She hasn’t said one word since the tense meeting in the room, our drive over here done in hostile silence. I avoid looking at her, and at him. He’s ushering her onto the plane like she’s some petulant child, his hand occasionally touching her lightly to guide her, and it burns my soul. He has avoided me since he left my room; his manner towards me has been cool and distant, and I can’t stand it.
Maybe it’s better like this. There’s been icy silence, avoidance of eye contact between any of us, and an atmosphere so thick you could slice it with a knife. Marissa is acting like I don’t even exist and hasn’t once looked my way. Not that I care. That flawless face and pouting mouth only ignite my internal rage, and I wonder how she would look with my laptop rammed down her throat.
I sit alone on the left of the aisle and pull out my laptop to give me something to focus on besides the last few hours. I don’t want to open my mind to what I did with him, and I can’t bring myself to look at him with her. I don’t want to see his blank expression, devoid of any emotion, cutting me off.
They both go to sit on the other side of the aisle facing one another across a small table. I try not to watch as she attempts to reach out for his hand. My stomach tightens, but he removes his from the table, returning it to his lap coolly, and they sit in silence, the tension heavy. I want him to move and sit somewhere else, away from her, or across from me instead. He doesn’t.
I watch from the corner of my eye, breath held; she’s pouting at him, but he ignores her. Shifting in his seat so that he can look out of the window instead, he doesn’t seem to have anything to say to either of us. I guess Jake has never had to deal with a messy situation like this before. He never really overlaps his women so that any come face to face. And anyone he dates normally knows it’s temporary and doesn’t make a fuss. This, however, is beyond awkward. Two women who actually love him and want more. Although he only knows about her, because I’ll never admit it.
* * *
I attempt to work through the flight as I have enough to keep me occupied, to pretend to anyway, but I’m aware of him for the entire journey. His closeness across the aisle, his scent lingering between us. We’re not far apart, but it feels like there’s a canyon between us, a million miles of vast baron land. And he’s so un-reachable, like I’ve lost him.
He’s using his laptop, but unlike me, he’s not as focused and wired into it the way I’m trying to be. He keeps staring pensively out of the window and fixing a blank gaze at the darkness outside. His mood is preoccupied. I wonder what he’s thinking about; it tugs at me. I long to know what’s keeping his head busy as he stares silently into nothing.
Is he thinking about what we did? Or is he thinking about the baby and her? I want to know how you feel, Jake, about all of it. This is sheer agony.
I long to be alone with him and have him tell me what’s going on in that dark look and still face. I know I never will again; we’ve reached an impasse. The only way forward doesn’t bear thinking about, and I was right about what would happen.
I try not to look at Marissa, now sound asleep in her chair, his sunglasses still in place on her flawless face. We contrast in so many ways, only our hair color matches. She’s small and curvy with deep dark eyes and a sensual mouth; everything about her screams exotic beauty. Her figure is voluptuous, yet not overweight, her breasts larger than average, and they look natural. She’s a born seductress in every way, and I’d never stand a chance against her. We’re unevenly matched.
How could I ever compare to her?
I’m small and petite with average curves, average face, average Emma. Pale and blonde with no sexy vibe at all. She’s the first girl he ever loved, and now she’s carrying his child. She isn’t some damaged mess like me, unable to relax and let Jake in fully; she’s not some girl he just screwed out of frustration on the floor to cure weird tension between us.
That was me!
I watch him longingly, knowing I never stood a chance against him, or with him. How could I? Just some worthless little tramp from Chicago with hopes of grandeur, with no way of knowing how to deal with the force that is Jake Carrero. I have deluded myself for so long. He’s always been out of my league."
