Loving a Man Who Forgot Me Novel Chapter 46
“Was it everything you hoped it would be?”
Jason gave me a lazy grin from the passenger seat. He was still buzzing.
It wasn’t even midnight, but once Jason’s eyes had started drooping in the middle of the conversation, I knew it was time to call it a night.
He wasn’t quite on the same level as the rest of the guys, but had given it the ol’ college try to keep up all night.
“You know the best people,” he drawled happily. I smiled back. “They’re alright.” He grabbed my right hand from the wheel and dragged it to his lips. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” I muttered softly, and then tugged my hand free and returned it to the wheel as something hollow opened up in my stomach.
Guilt. Shame. And so many other things that just admitting would make the guilt and shame so much worse. Already they were a gnawing ache in my stomach and chest cavity. Jason didn’t deserve this.
I didn’t deserve him. I knew it, and every time he said those words with so much conviction and affection was a reminder of just how despicable I was. How unworthy of his love I was.
I truly did love him back . . . I did . . . but . . . I’d only ever loved two guys. The problem was, I never stopped loving the first one. I would always love the first one. Nothing and nobody could overshadow that.
Not even the incredible, goofy, kind, generous, and slightly drunk man staring sappily at me from the passenger seat. But I was choosing him. I had already chosen him. That had to count for something.
Except you didn’t choose him when it mattered, did you? A quiet, judgmental voice reminded me. I’d been ready to leave him.
It was never my intention to keep this ugly secret, because I didn’t think I’d have to. I thought I’d be letting Jason go, but then . . . well then, that didn’t happen, and I stayed with him.
I cast a sidelong glance at him and met his sleepy gaze. He flashed another big smile before his eyes drifted shut and his head flopped to the side and rested against the window. I let out a heavy breath and turned the radio on low, snuffing out the condemning silence.
Rather than drive back to Jason’s, I made the turn toward my place. I wasn’t about to face three flights of stairs in an attempt to get all six intoxicated feet of him up to his apartment. He came to when we pulled up outside of my house, but was of little help getting inside.
He was feeling very flirtatious and handsy when I helped him out of the car. We stumbled our way up the walk, me swatting at him every few feet while I fumbled with my house key. Once inside, he staggered to the couch and collapsed.
By the time I’d deposited my keys and purse on the entry table and kicked my heels off, he was passed out face first in a decorative pillow.
I peeled his shoes off and maneuvered him onto his side, so he wouldn’t suffocate in the couch, and then covered him with a fuzzy throw blanket. There was little point in trying to get him to the bedroom.
I trudged tiredly to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, sinking onto one of the tall chairs at the backside of the counter. I sat in the quiet with my thoughts. There was part of me that wanted to wake Jason up right that second and confess everything.
The heavy weight on my chest wouldn’t be lifted until I did, but as I watched him sleep, I couldn’t do it. I was so terrified to ruin what we had. He was my future. Abel and all of our mistakes were my past.
Like the selfish coward that I was, I deposited my glass in the sink and plodded down the hall to my bedroom, needing the escape that sleep would provide from this night. Tomorrow would have its own set of worries and stresses.
As I climbed into bed, I glanced at the screen on my phone. Ten minutes after twelve. Happy birthday Abel. I clicked off the lamp, pulled the covers up, and closed my eyes, chasing dreams of things just out of reach.
Jason woke in the morning before I did, and the smell of bacon and something sweet greeted me when I ventured out of my room. With sleepy steps I made my way to the kitchen.
Shirtless Jason had his back to me at the stove, but glanced over his shoulder as I entered the kitchen and slid onto a chair. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” “You’re awfully chipper for someone who was three sheets to the wind last night,” I groaned.
“Shouldn’t I be making you breakfast?” “I figured I owed you breakfast for having to take care of my drunk ass last night.” He grinned and went back to flipping pancakes.
“I won’t object.” Without me even having to ask, Jason moved to the coffee pot just as it finished brewing and poured a cup. After adding cream, he slid it in front of me. “Thank you,” I said softly and rose up on my seat to meet his mouth in a light kiss.
“Breakfast will be done in just a minute, then I figure I’ll head home and let you have the day to relax and get ready for the party. I’ll pick you up around five?” He posed it as a question, to which I responded with a nod, as I sipped from the cup of hot coffee.
Jason finished cooking and served up breakfast. While we ate, he gushed more about the night before and how great he thought the guys were. I could tell it would be a while before he lost that starstruck glow around them