Chapter 187

"I think it’s best if I go as soon as I can get myself together.” I don’t think that’s possible right now, my
body is detached and useless, barely wanting to move, let alone get up. My heart is aching so heavily it
throbs through my chest and stomach. I feel sick with all of it. My head is light and swimming with the
effort of trying to breathe. My nose is blocked from crying and my throat is raw and raspy.

“I can’t … I can’t, Emma!” His voice suddenly turns powerful, tugging me to him in a flash and I yelp in
surprise. He buries his face into my hair, crushing me in his embrace letting out the pain he’s been
holding back. I never in my life thought I would see Jake cry and it’s the most awful thing I’ve ever
witnessed. My heart is broken in two. It has the same effect as watching everyone I love cut down and
murdered while I lie useless and watch.

I sob into his body in reaction, trying desperately to push away the thoughts running through my mind
tormenting me. I stiffen against him, afraid to let him hold me or to let me go; afraid to give in to the
thoughts spiraling out of control in my mind, thoughts of him and her; afraid to try to envelope myself in
him, for fear of what will consume me.

“Please, let me go.” I cry silently, begging him to stop making this worse for me. He has no idea of the
agony that touching me is causing or how much internal pain it inflicts.

He seems to compose himself, sensing that I’m unresponsive in his arms and loosens his grip, letting
me go. He stands and quickly turns his back to me as he takes several heavy breaths. His posture is
that of deflation and hopelessness.

“I’ll let you leave, Emma, but I can promise you this. I’ll never let you go … Even if I need to chase you
for the rest of my life, I won’t stop trying to get you back.” He walks off slowly. I sense it’s before he
does something he will regret, like pushing me further away. He pauses by the door taking a final look
at my disheveled form lying carelessly on the bed. His discarded, broken woman.



Our eyes meet, and it causes the sharpest wrenching kick to my gut, so much sadness and pain
mirrored there.

Why did you have to kill me so?

“If I have to spend the next sixty years begging at your feet, Emma, then I will. You’re the only one for
me. The one! … I love you with every piece of my soul, baby. I won’t ever stop trying to get you back in
my life, getting back in your heart. Because I need you.” With one final aching look he leaves the room,
walking further into the apartment, heading toward one of his many unused guest rooms to give me
space. I wish his words could bring me some comfort, but they don’t; they only bring heart ripping
anger cutting through my grief.

If I really meant that much to him then he would’ve never touched her at all.

* * *

I get up when my body is finally able to hold my weight and I dress quickly. I can’t bear to wander the
apartment. I don’t want to see Jake at all. I grab what clothes I can and then with a final walk out the
door I press the intercom button which summons Mathews into the internal apartment. He appears,
dressed in his Men in Black attire, informing me that Jefferson will only be a few minutes. He seems to
know what I want, and I guess Jake has brought him up to speed like he always does. Jake is nowhere
to be seen, but I can sense him somewhere in the apartment. I can feel his presence. I’m trying not to
give way to thoughts of him or else I won’t cope. I need to stay strong to be able to leave.

Mathews agrees to have Nora pack and send on the rest of my belongings later today. I’ve made up
my mind that I need to walk away, taking all that I am. I need to get organized, get back to Sarah, and
home, take time to really think all this through. It’s a plan and it’s all that is keeping me held together,
the old PA Emma taking over, clinging to organized thoughts and planning to help me get through the
worst moment of my life. It’s all so very polite and calm. My requests coming from a seemingly sane



person arranging a little trip, while in sheer agony, I try not to show the tormented soul that I am. It’s
what I need right now since any emotion would make me crumble at my own feet.

Mathews stands polite and silent as I give instructions on certain items I don’t want or couldn’t bear to
have with me. His black hair is speckled with gray, his crinkled eyes highlighting the soft blue kindness
in them. He’s maybe in his late forties. I’ve always liked him in a quiet protector always present sort of
way.

I can see why Jake trusts him to run his security both in and out of his home. He has the air and quiet
gentleness of a military man, underlined with a hint of danger. I’ve no doubt he’s the kind of man who
would take a bullet for Jake. I like the fact he has Mathews to take care of him now that I won’t be here
to do it anymore.

I manage to find the old part of me deep inside that shields how I feel, PA Emma, she lifts her chin and
sets her face in a blank mask. My body held together only by sheer will as Mathews takes my case and
leads me to the elevator at the outer doors of the penthouse apartment. I take one last look around. My
heart aches like a dead weight in my body, not for this apartment, since it was never really mine
anyway, but for what walking out of it symbolizes. I’ve lost everything just like I thought I would.

Not because I let Jake seduce me into a one-night stand but because I fell in love with him. I let go of
so many defenses which kept me safe. Yet the outcome was the same and I lost him, my job, and our
relationship, here I am again, walking out of his life for the second time, only this time I don’t see a way
of ever coming back.

It’s only been a day since I left him, but it feels like an eternity. The apartment is eerily quiet while
Sarah and her boyfriend, Marcus, are visiting his family for the next six days. I have all technology
switched off, so Jake can’t contact me and I’m slowly dying inside. It doesn’t feel like I belong back
here, in this apartment. Queens isn’t where I should be anymore either.



The anger sweeps through me, followed closely by grief, then mourning. I can’t seem to be still, every
part of me cycling through emotions over and over. I feel like I’m caught in a nightmare I can’t wake up
from and everything around me is so surreal. My palms are cold, my body trembles, but I feel hot and
sick. I’ve tried to do something other than lie on the bed and sob, but I’ve lost all my capabilities.

The years I was hurt and abused at the hands of men used to somehow give me strength to fight back,
no matter what they did, my anger fuel me on to be better. But Jake has left me bereft and empty.
There’s nothing in me but an agonizing pit of despair and hopelessness as I’m lying crumpled and
useless on a bed.

Food doesn’t tempt me, I can’t swallow water, and the thought of getting up is abhorrent to me. I’ve
thrown up so many times since I got here, maybe a reaction to the emotional trauma. Thoughts of Jake
and Marissa run over and over through my head. My imagination taking hold, running wild, seeing them
kissing passionately, hands running up and down her body pushing things further. I can’t shake it; every
new visualization becomes more detailed and more excruciating than the last. I’m literally torturing
myself into insanity.

I’ve no idea how far things went or how they even started but my mind is slowly tormenting me. I know
if I stay here, like this, I’ll slowly go insane or die from starvation. I need to get up and shower, get up
and eat, just get up and not lie falling into oblivion. I need to start rationalizing my thoughts to help
process what has happened.

You need to pick up the pieces and file them into the back of your head. You are better than this!

I finally drag myself up, sitting and watching the rain fall down the window from my padded, silver-gray
headboard. It seems to echo how I feel inside. The dark gray sky brings a dull light to everything
around me in my stark modern room. I’ve no idea what time it is; it ceased to exist the moment he told
me what he did.



I pull myself to standing, ashamed that I’m still in his T-shirt and running pants, acknowledging the
mess of me. I don’t want his smell around me or the memory of him so close. I need to pull myself
together and try to look like I’m coping with life, maybe doing this I’ll find my old resolve.

I force myself into the small shower of my apartment. The confines of the cheerful pink bathroom Sarah
insisted on decorating brings me a little comfort, a minor spark of happiness amid a sea of darkness. A
touch of Sarah with her bright happy face pushes Marissa aside for a moment, giving my head respite.


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