How he really feels he f.., p.14
How He Really Feels (He Feels Trilogy), page 14
Soon another weekend was upon us. My parents informed me that the cabin was free for the weekend, so we decided to head up to Payson again.
The drive up there Friday night after work was quiet. Nick seemed distracted, and I asked if he wanted me to read from the Questions book, but he merely grunted in reply. I studied his profile as he drove, and I noticed lines etched around his eyes. He looked drained and worn, more exhausted than I had ever seen him. Something was up with him; something was eating away at him, and it marked the first time in our relationship that he didn’t immediately share with me whatever was on his mind. I hoped that with a little prodding, he would open up.
“What’s wrong, Nick?” I asked quietly.
“Sorry. I know I’m distracted. I just have a big work issue on my mind. I’ll snap out of it, I promise.”
I understood completely, because I knew how busy we both had been at work that week. I had received three new projects, so I couldn’t imagine his work load with sorting projects and helping keep everyone on top of their work while still having additional work handed down from the top. “It’s okay, baby. I know work’s been busy. Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. I had hoped that it was something he could talk to me about, but if he didn’t want to go there, I couldn’t force him.
And he didn’t make good on his promise that he would snap out of it, either. I distracted myself with the radio, but it wasn’t like the last time we drove up. Nick clearly had something big on his mind, and he wasn’t interested in talking about it; but whatever it was, it was throwing off everything between us.
When we arrived at the cabin a little after 8:30, I poured us each a glass of wine, hoping that it would loosen him up enough to either talk to me or to make love to me. I felt desperate for his touch, but whatever was distracting his thoughts was taking over our weekend. We went up to the bedroom and sipped our wine in bed, watching a movie on HBO. But the wine had the opposite effect that I had been hoping for, and when the movie was over, Nick was asleep next to me.
I woke up first the next morning, and I started a fire in the fireplace after I put on the coffee. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and sat at the kitchen table, sipping my coffee and staring out into the beautiful snowy, woodsy scene behind the house. The snow glinted in the sunlight on the Ponderosa Pines, and I saw two deer leaping through the trees. I smiled at the playfulness of nature right outside my window, and I felt a wave of optimism that Nick would wake up in a better mood. Surely this romantic setting would help him snap out of his mood.
But it didn’t. And when he finally came down the stairs two hours after I had gotten up, his mood was even worse than the night before. I had never seen him like this.
“Good morning,” I said as cheerfully as I could muster, despite feeling my own good mood destroyed by his gloom.
“Morning,” he muttered. He walked up behind me, but he didn’t put his hands on my shoulders like he had the time before when we had been there. I felt cold from his lack of touch, and an involuntary shiver racked my body. I stared up at him as he stared out the window, refusing to meet my eyes. The lines around his eyes had deepened despite his many hours of sleep the night before, and he still looked exhausted. Sexy, still – always sexy; but totally worn out. “I have bad news.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“I need to head back early.”
“How early?”
“This afternoon.”
What the hell? “Why?”
“Work.”
“It’s the weekend, Nick. It’ll be there Monday.”
“It can’t wait. I’m sorry if you don’t understand as a consultant, but as an executive, I don’t always get the luxury of weekends.”
I gasped, almost as if he had hit me. “Wow, Nick. That was uncalled for. What the hell is going on with you?” I spat out. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought. I’ll be ready to leave within the hour.”
“Fine,” I said, and I headed upstairs to pack my things, my eyes filling with tears that I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing as I trudged up the steps.
I threw my clothes into my bag, not bothering with a shower. I cleaned out the coffee pot while Nick put out the fire, and we were on the road less than twenty minutes later.
We were about an hour into our trip back home when Nick pulled over at a rest stop. “Bathroom?” he asked, almost sounding nervous.
I didn’t have to, but he did, so I got out and stretched. He came back and we were on the road again.
“Julianne, we need to talk.”
“About what?” I asked, watching the mile markers as we traveled along.
His eyes didn’t leave the road as he drove. I noticed a song quietly playing on the radio, and dimly in my mind I registered that it was a song that I liked, but something about the situation felt wrong.
“I need to tell you the truth. My mind hasn’t been on work. It’s been on us.”
My heart dropped into my stomach, which immediately clenched into tight knots, as I feared his next words. I sat in icy silence.
His eyes never left the road as he spoke. “I’m just… I can’t do this anymore.”
I gasped, the wind knocked out of me at his words. I literally felt like I had been punched in the ribs. I couldn’t speak, but he certainly could.
His voice was low and quiet, his mannerisms withdrawn, like he had already pulled fully away from me. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m just not in love with you. I can’t let you fall for me when I’ll never feel it back.”
“What?” I breathed, sure I hadn’t heard him right. I mean, we hadn’t actually said the words to each other, but we both knew it was love. Every word that we had spoken to each other over the past several weeks raced through my mind. Every action repeated itself in my mind. I knew he loved me. The way he held me, the way he whispered before we went to sleep, the way he made love to me, the way he pulled me into his arms quietly in his office; these were all expressions of his love. Yet he was sitting here telling me otherwise, and suddenly everything around me was spinning and I felt nauseous, my stomach tying itself up in knots that I couldn’t even begin to think about how to untangle. Everything around me suddenly went quiet, and I felt my face heat up and tears prick behind my eyes.
I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe as nausea overtook my body.
“I just don’t see this lasting forever. We’ve got an expiration date, and once I realized that, I knew I had to end things.” His eyes focused on the road. He never once looked at me during the entire exchange. I needed to see his eyes; they would tell me the truth. I needed to know why he had the sudden change of heart.
My entire body hurt as the full devastation of what he was saying to me hit me. “I thought you were falling for me,” I finally spat out.
“The passion that I’m looking for just isn’t there for me,” he said quietly.
His words stung, mostly because I thought that’s what we had. The passion I felt for him far exceeded anything I had ever felt for another man. And I knew in my heart that what he was saying couldn’t possibly be true. It just didn’t add up. He had told me how much passion he had felt for me. And more than words, the way he made love to me proved his passion for me. That couldn’t have been one-sided; it couldn’t have possibly just been me who felt that. Could it have?
We sat in silence for the remainder of the ride home as I concentrated on forcing myself to breathe and holding back my tears, which proved fruitless as they started streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t want him to see the devastation he had left in his wake, but my emotions betrayed me as the tears fell hot and heavy.
I thought that I was going to spend the rest of my life with him; I was excitedly looking toward the future, yet here we were. He had just ended it for reasons that I could not grasp in any way. I was in total and complete shock, completely unsure how exactly this had happened. Yet somehow, it did happen. Somehow, I was alone. Somehow, Nick and I were over. The mere thought of that sent a sharp pain through my heart.
He dropped me off at my apartment, coming in only long enough to grab his suits out of my closet and his toiletries out of my bathroom, and then he left wordlessly, without so much as a goodbye or a hug or even a handshake. Nothing. He didn’t even look me in the eye. And I certainly couldn’t look at him; it would just hurt too much to see the man of my dreams walking out of my life.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I was alone. Truly alone. The tears unleashed. I began to sob like I had never sobbed before in my life. I stood with my back against the door, the weeping leaving me gasping for breath. I heaved so hard that I ran to the bathroom and vomited, and then I curled on the floor of my bathroom, crying for what felt like an eternity, the tile cool against my cheek. Eventually, the tears stopped, and I was left with gut-wrenching dry heaves. I pulled myself off the floor and climbed into bed, exhausted both emotionally and physically. I cried myself to sleep and dreamed of heartbreak and darkness.
I didn’t sleep well. I awoke on Sunday morning early, before the sun even rose, and my first thought was of Nick. This started the tears again, and I cried in bed for hours. I had never experienced that sort of grief before. It felt like there had been a death, and in a way, there had been. It was the death of the most beautiful relationship of my life, and for reasons that I still didn’t understand. I felt like I should fight for us, but he had told me that he didn’t love me. I couldn’t force him to love me, and I couldn’t force him to stay in a relationship that he didn’t feel was right. And not only that, but I was starting to feel anger. I was angry at Nick for doing it the way he did it, for saying the things he said. There were softer ways to frame things, but he knowingly said the one thing that he knew would tear my heart out.
I didn’t know if I would ever recover from this devastation.
Chapter 12
All of the breakup clichés I had ever spouted to my own friends going through heartbreak returned to me; the pain wouldn’t last forever, someday I would smile again, I would get over him in time. But I didn’t believe any of that for a second. This was the type of thing that a person may never recover from. I truly believed that the day when I would feel better would never, ever come. The pain was too sharp, the grief simply too deep. I was in a dark, dark place, and I wasn’t sure what I could ever do to climb out of it.
I forced myself out of bed to relieve my bladder, but that was it; that was all I had the energy for. I grabbed my phone and headed back to bed. I checked my messages, hoping against hope that Nick had called or texted or had done something, anything, to show me that he had made a mistake.
I had one voicemail from Travis: “Jules, it’s Trav. I really need to talk to you. Call me ASAP. Bye babydoll.”
My tears began again at hearing his voice. Travis was such a great friend, always there for me through thick and thin. I could always count on him, and just hearing the voice of my best friend set my tears off again. I had certainly had my heart broken before, but never like this, never even close to this. I couldn’t pull myself out of the black fog that was engulfing me, and the depth of my sorrow terrified me.
I forced myself out of bed for a glass of water. I made a sandwich but threw it out after one bite. I couldn’t eat; the thought of food made me nauseous. I laid on the couch and flipped through the channels mindlessly. I couldn’t focus on anything. Nick was consuming my every thought, and I listlessly wondered when it would stop and if I would ever feel normal again.
Then some stupid commercial for Valentine’s Day greeting cards came on, and I lost it again. Just when I thought there couldn’t possibly be any more tears left to cry, the gut-wrenching heaves were back.
I finally decided to call Travis back. Maybe he could shed some light on what happened or help me not to feel so utterly alone.
“Hello,” he answered groggily, as if I had woken him.
I sat silently, tears rolling down my cheeks, unable to choke out words.
“Hello,” he repeated. I let out a sob. “Jules? You there?”
“Yes…” I managed to choke out.
“Where are you?”
“Home,” I gasped out between sobs.
“Jules, stay right where you are. I will be there in ten minutes.”
Less than ten minutes later, I heard a knock at my door. I opened it and fell into Travis’ comforting arms.
“Jules, what happened?”
My only response was to cry even harder.
“I am not leaving until your tears are dry and I see a smile on your face.”
This only made me cry more because it made me realize how much I had neglected my friendship with Travis since I had been with Nick. He was a good friend, and I loved him for it.
Travis just held me in his strong arms. He let me cry until I had no more in me once again, but it was a temporary reprieve. When the heaves slowed and the shuddering stopped, my head ached as I was finally able to tell Travis the story of the breakup.
“He said that he didn’t love me because he didn’t have passion for me. Whatever that means,” I finished.
“Wow. What a fucking idiot. Man if I ever see that douche, I’ll…”
I interrupted Travis. “It’s not worth your time,” I started. “Travis, you have been there for me and listened to me and didn’t judge me or make me feel like you didn’t care. You are my best friend and I know I haven’t been here for you lately…” I trailed off as tears filled my eyes again.
Travis just hugged me as he sat on the couch, holding me in his arms, my head on his chest. I heard his steady heart beating, and I was grateful for his strength. He would help me get through this. He would help me see the light again.
“I always know that if I need you, you would be there,” he said. That was all I needed. I reached up and pecked him on his scruffy chin.
“You’re a great friend,” I told him. “God, Trav, I am so sorry. You called and it sounded important. What was it about?” I asked, feeling like a big jerk on top of already feeling like complete shit.
“It was nothing.”
“Tell me. I need the distraction. I need to try to think about something other than Nick for a minute. Did you find a new woman?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” he answered. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m here for you whenever you need me. I promise. I love you, you know,” I said.
“I know. It was nothing,” he answered. “And I love you, too.”
He stood up and walked into my kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of beer and brought me one, too. “I think we could both use a few of these,” he smiled, taking the cap off of mine and handing it to me. “It’s been a long time since we drank beer, just the two of us.”
“Brings back some great memories,” I said, clinking my bottle against his.
We were both lost in thought for a while as we enjoyed our beers and each other’s company. We both opened a second beer shortly thereafter and popped in a movie. “Let’s play a drinking game, for old time’s sake!” Travis suggested, hoping to take my mind off of things. So we both picked a character in the movie, and every time our character’s name was spoken, we had to take a drink. It didn’t take my mind off of Nick. He was really never very far from my thoughts, no matter what I did.
A few beers and a little buzz after the movie, Travis suggested playing a board game. I had bought a game called Intimate Questions, which was a game where a bunch of questions were thrown into a tray and each player had to answer the questions in all honesty. We figured that since we were so close, we had no secrets and wouldn’t feel uncomfortable answering questions honestly.
I pulled the first question: “Who was your first sexual partner?” I asked Travis.
“You. Come on, you knew that one. This game sucks.”
“Give it a chance. Now you pick one,” I instructed him.
“Alright. What is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done?”
“Nick,” I answered immediately. It wasn’t true. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Travis looked at me with concern in his eyes.
“Maybe we shouldn’t play this game anymore. I mean, the point was to get your mind off of that douchebag,” Travis said.
“I’m okay. Promise. And a few more beers and I won’t be thinking about much of anything.” I forced a small smile that I didn’t really feel, but I wanted Travis to feel like he was helping me through my depression.
“Okay, next question,” I said, pulling another one out of the tray. “What is your deepest, darkest secret?”
“Um… actually, let’s stop playing this now,” he blushed.
“Nope. Time to confess. No way am I letting you out of this one.”
“I don’t think you want to know,” he said, suddenly serious.
Alarm bells rang in my head. I suddenly felt sick, as if I had too much to drink. It had to be something he hadn’t told me, and he always told me everything, so it had to be serious.
“Trav, what is it?”
“I don’t know, Julianne. This isn’t the right time.”
My head felt fuzzy. Suddenly I wished I hadn’t had that last beer. “Just tell me,” I said, looking at him with concern. I felt like he was going to tell me something important. I thought that he should preface this by saying something like, “I think that all of this beer is impairing my judgment, because I know that I would never tell you this sober.”
