Hopeless Vows (25 page)

Slowly, I unwrap my arms from around my knees and stretch my limbs. I wince as my body protests to the change in position. Getting up on my hands and knees, I crawl to where I left my purse on the floor next to the island hours ago. My hands dig around in search for my phone. There’s only one person I can talk to right now. When I finally find it, I send out an SOS and hope she answers quickly.

Me: I need you.

As I’d hoped, her reply comes within seconds.

Janey: I’m on my way.

“Oh, God, Jillian,” Janey says as she lets herself in the front door and flips on the light. I’m instantly blinded and slam my eyes shut. She walks quickly over to me where I still lay on the ground. My body’s too weak to actually walk. “What happened?”

Blinking several times, my eyes finally adjust to the brightness of the room and focus in on my best friend. Seeing her concerned expression has me breaking down again. “He knows,” I say through my tears.

“Knows what?” She rubs my back comfortingly.

“Ab-bout my p-past.”

“Oh, no.” She crouches down and pulls me up into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around me. I cry into her shoulder even though I don’t deserve the comfort or compassion. “How did he find out?” she asks once I’ve calmed a little.

I shake my head and pull back. “I have no idea. I didn’t ask.” Honestly, that was the least of my concerns. I was more worried about Austin leaving me.

“I’m so sorry.” The pity in her eyes makes me feel worse.

I shrug. “It’s not your fault. You did warn me, remember?” Looking down at my lap, I pick at my nails. “I should have listened to you and told him the truth.”

“Maybe, then again, it might not have changed anything.”

I don’t respond since she’s probably right. Even if I had told him, I’d still be in this moment feeling completely empty. It would have just happened sooner.

Three days later, I finally find the energy to shower. Janey had called my boss to let her know an emergency had come up and I’d need to take some time off. Stepping out of the shower, I feel slightly better. It’s amazing what some warm water and soap can do for a person.

My reflection in the mirror is hardly recognizable. My complexion is paler than normal with hollow cheeks and red-rimmed eyes that have bags underneath them. This is the first time I’ve looked at myself since Austin walked out of our apartment. It’s startling the physical transformation a person can make in such a short amount of time when they are completely distraught. I’m mentally, emotionally, and physically broken, and my appearance definitely reflects that. I feared getting attached would make this moment worse, but I never imagined falling so deeply for him, and it’s completely devastated me.

Thank God for Janey. She has been my saving grace through all of this and the only thing really keeping me going. She stops by daily to make sure I’m eating and forces me to choke down a few bites of food. She tries to start conversation, and even if I don’t respond a lot, I still appreciate the effort.

As I’m walking out of my bedroom, I hear a knock on the door followed by Janey’s voice. “Hello?” she sings.

“Hey, girl.” I give her a small smile before hugging her. It’s not much, but it’s probably the most expression I’ve had in three days.

“Slowly but surely, she’s coming back.” Her voice is light and happy, not at all matching my mood, but I know she’s trying to help me move past this. “I brought movies and chocolate,” she announces before heading toward the living room.

I follow after her, grabbing the remote and sit next to her on the couch. Turning the TV on, my heart sinks and all the color drains from my face.

They’ve never met, but they’re getting married!

Various clips flash across the screen. First, me in my wedding dress, then Austin standing at the altar in his tux, followed by images of the other couples on the show. I bite my bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying.

In this social experiment, we’ll follow four couples who have been matched by a panel of experts as they get to know one another.

Another clip of us kissing.

Will it be happily ever after, or end in heartache?

A frame of me shouting at him, no doubt over Chloe.

Find out on First Comes Marriage.

The commercial ends, but my focus stays trained on the television. A myriad of emotions runs through my system, but the final one is depression. This was the last thing I expected to see.

“Are you okay?” Janey asks hesitantly.

“Um, yeah.” I swallow and clear my throat. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting to see that, but I guess I should get used to it.”

“When does the show start?”

“In six weeks.”

“Are you going to watch it?”

I shake my head rapidly. I can’t. The memories alone are crippling. To see it would be absolutely devastating. I wipe the moisture off my cheeks and from my nose.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispers as she hugs me tightly. I want to believe her, but I don’t know how.

Once she leaves, I’m lying in the guest room staring up at the ceiling. I can’t sleep in the master bedroom. He’s everywhere I look in there. Who am I kidding? He’s everywhere in this apartment. I can smell him, see him, and feel him. This was the place we made ours, where we built our beginning. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

I miss him so damn much it hurts. A small part of me thought Austin might reach out to me after a day or two, but with each passing second, my hope diminishes more and more. I just want to hear his voice. Hear his deep chuckle and sweet whispers. I’ll settle for him yelling at me at this point. Not able to resist anymore, I grab my phone off the night stand and pull up my text messages.

I stare at his name for the longest time. This simple piece of technology is the only lifeline I have to him right now. I know there’s a good chance he’ll throw it back at sea and let me drown in my misery, but I’m clinging to the hope he loves me as I love him. After a lot of doubt and deliberation, I type out my message and hit send, my gaze never leaving my phone as I wait for a reply.

Austin

MY HEAD RESTS
against the back of my uncle’s armchair after taking a sip of scotch. I close my eyes and welcome the burn that slides down my throat. I want nothing more than to forget everything. Forget these last two months and erase Jillian from my fucking mind.

I didn’t want to believe it. There was no way this wonderful woman could have deceived me in the worst possible way. But as soon as I confronted her, I knew. She didn’t even have to say anything. It was written all over her disgustingly perfect face. In that moment, my heart stopped beating. There I was looking at the person I love, the one who owns my heart and soul, but at the same time wanting to hurt her as much as she hurt me.

I hate her.

I hate what she represents, what her family did.

I hate that I can see the evil that runs through her veins lurking in her fucking eyes.

But mostly, I hate that I love her.

God help me, but I do.

I down the rest of my scotch with that thought, hissing through my teeth as it goes down. Fuck her for making me fall for her.

A buzzing noise gets my attention. The alcohol coursing through my system makes my reflexes slow, so it takes a minute for me to realize it’s my phone. Searching in the chair cushions, I finally find it tucked away in my pockets. Blinking my eyes wide, it takes them a moment to focus in on the message waiting for me.

Jillian: I miss you.

Three small words. Individually, they’re meaningless. Strung together, they cripple me. I don’t want to hear that shit from her. Standing up with my phone in hand, I pull back and hurl it across the room. A thunderous roar erupts from me as I throw it with all my might, hoping to break it so I don’t have to see any more messages from that lying bitch again. The loud thud followed by clanking as several pieces crash to the floor is satisfying. With a deep breath, I sit back down.

“What the hell was that?” My uncle comes rushing in.

“Nothing,” I mutter, raising my glass to my lips, but realize it’s empty.
Dammit.

Surveying the damage littering his floor, he says, “Look, when you showed up the other day, I didn’t ask questions, but this is getting out of hand. You’re drinking all damn day, you haven’t showered in God knows how long, and now you’re breaking shit. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I left my
wife
.” The word feels like acid on my tongue.

His head jerks back, no doubt surprised by my statement. He sits down on a chair in front of me. “Why? What happened? Last time we talked you seemed happy.”

“I was happy, until I realized she’s a damn liar. She’s been playing me and everyone else from the very beginning.”

He shakes his head several times. “I’m old. Break it down for me, will ya?”

I’ll need more scotch for this. Standing up, I walk over to the cabinet that holds my escape and pour myself another glass. I raise the bottle in offering, but Uncle Brian declines. He’ll probably rethink his decision after I drop this bomb on him.

The rich smell of the amber liquid fills my senses as I bring the glass up for a sip. “I don’t even know where to start.” I let out a deep sigh before continuing. “Jillian isn’t who she says she is. In fact, that’s not even her real name.”

“Okaaaay,” he drawls out. “Is that it?”

“I wish. I found out her real name is Cassandra Rhodes.” He squints his eyes and tilts his head. I can tell he’s trying to place the name. Suddenly, he becomes slack jawed and stares at me disbelievingly. I nod my head, confirming the conclusion he’s come to.

“How is that possible? Did she not know?”

“Oh no, she knew alright. That’s why she stopped halfway down the aisle when we got married.”

“How would she have known who you are though? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask, but she admitted to knowing the day of our wedding. Remember awhile ago when I said it felt like I was one hundred percent committed to this experiment, but she wasn’t? There was always something holding her back and I couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t let me in. It all makes sense now. She didn’t want to reveal her rotting soul,” I sneer.