Life Next Door (Love Not Included Series Book 2) (15 page)

Saturday was a tough day to get through. Saturday was stage two: anger. I missed him. I missed those eyes that look straight through me. I missed his smell, his smile, his touch, the way he breathes. I missed everything about him. I’ve hit pathetic. After everything that’s happened, I still miss everything about him. And that makes me mad. Madder than hell, actually. Every time I look around I see signs of him, little reminders of him around my house, and I can’t seem to get away from him. My safe haven is turning into my own personal hell and that makes me furious!

What is wrong with me?

I think I may be masochistic I am a glutton for pain. Because that’s what I’m putting myself through right now. I am in love with a man who has destroyed my trust in him. I’m in a battle with my heart to knock it off and move on. There are independent women all over the place. Famous ones! I need to move on and focus on important things. Things that won’t ever let me down. And it’s the French, or Spanish, or anyone who manufactures wine. I tried avoiding medicating my sorrows with wine yesterday, but it’s about time I take the edge off. Anger is a dangerous thing, and right about now I need a buffer.

I’ve always been impressed with my tolerance for alcohol, but mix it with emotions and it can tend to turn on you. I am not proud of what it did to me, but I can’t take it back. As the night went on, I just got angrier and angrier. By 10 p.m., I was having a full blown hate-a-thon. I don’t know who that she-devil thinks she is, talking to me the way she did.
I’m
the victim here! I may not be a fighter but I sure as hell believe in revenge.

I spend the next two hours ordering porn off any site that Google comes up with and gifting it to everyone on Jeff’s contact list.

By midnight, I am egging the neighbor’s house.

Sunday isn’t any better than the previous two days. I wake up with my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth and no liquids in sight. I feel guilty about all the water bashing I’ve done in the past; I would kill for a nice glass of it right now. To just have a little taste again. A tiny little drop of what it was. To embrace it.

So, I think I’m also past talking about water at this point.

It’s like wishing for something that can’t be fixed. Sometimes when the damage is done, masking it, putting tape over the rip in the major issue, in the end, won’t keep it together. For the past two nights, I’ve hardly slept. I think that’s why when stage three (bargaining) hits me, I blame it on my lack of sleep and hefty hangover.

Maybe if I just saw him, things would fix themselves. Maybe we can pretend it never happened and go on our merry little way and be happy and perfect again. Maybe if I just heard him out he would have explained to me that I completely misunderstood the situation. I spend most of my pitiful day making excuses for the neighbor. Stage three definitely doesn’t mess around when it comes to wreaking havoc on my emotions. I talk myself in and out of turning my phone on to see if he has called or texted. Just one little button is all I have to press and it will prove if he cares. And if he cares, it will be okay. The decision to turn on the phone wins and I hold my breath while it lights up. I wait a bit longer for the messages to come through, but they don’t. Just as I’m about to throw my phone at the wall, it dings. I look at the screen and see the text coming through. It’s from Katie. She wants to know if I will be at work tomorrow. He hasn’t reached out or tried to call me since Friday.

Stage four starts a day early, and as I fall into a sad slumber, the depression sets in.

I don’t really care what is wrong with the world, or the things going on in it. Just the fact that it’s Monday is the perfect reason to feel depressed. No one likes Mondays. It’s like totally proven that it’s the most hated day of the week, and nothing good happens on Mondays. I can’t avoid work or I might give Katie a breakdown, which blows because I really don’t want to leave my bed. At this moment, I regret having responsibilities; I want no part in them. Unfortunately, I know what needs to be done so I get up and get to it.

I rush through my morning routine because it is important that I get out of the house before the neighbor comes out of his; I need to avoid a meet and greet. Oddly enough, when I make it outside, his Jeep is already gone. I make it to the shop an hour before Katie which gives me enough time to catch up on past due orders and inventory. I feel bad that I have neglected the expansion for the last few days and I see a pile of messages from contractors, venders—even one from Mrs. Weathers.

I get to steppin’ because I know I have a long day ahead of me. I must say that stage four is the hardest. Being angry was easy because I expressed emotion. I let it out. Being in denial was the best because no one could touch me so way up in my head. Depression is just a sadness that hovers over you like an ugly dark cloud, blocking out any chance to get a glimpse of light. Regret is also a form of depression, and I feel a lot of that as well. I regret not giving him a chance to explain. I know I owed him that much. I know I’ve probably driven him away since he hasn’t made the effort to fight for me anymore. I feel sadness for that as well. I spend the whole week ahead mourning a relationship that is done and buried.

I did not have a good week.

I burned a lot of cakes that week.

Friday was when acceptance finally hit me. I needed to get my shit together and learn how to cope with the loss. I was done being pathetic and sad or mad or just plain old unstable. What I needed to do was get over it. I’m a big girl. He lied and I was not okay with it. So move on. No one died. I’m not missing a limb and my health is still intact, physically at least. My mental health was still TBD.

I decided that Friday was going to be the start of something new. I was moving on. Friday is when I made sure the neighbor’s Jeep was not in the driveway, and I returned the dog.

I do something that I don’t normally do: I work on a Saturday. I bust my booty all week long to earn my weekends off. It was always the deal with May and I, and I never planned on changing it. But today, I have some fire in me, and I really need to catch up on the expansion. I’ve been blowing off Mrs. Weathers all week about confirming the interview and I really need to call her back so I don’t lose that opportunity.

“Hi, thank you for calling May’s, this is Katie. How can I help you?”

“Hi Katie, it’s Ce. Listen, I’m coming in today.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” She sounds panicked. Like I said, I don’t do Saturdays.

“Nothing’s wrong. But I’ve been a shit boss and a shit owner and I need to make some things right.”

“Oh. Okay, CeCe. But if you’re not up to it you don’t have to come in. Everything is running fine here. And I would seriously like a day without the fire department making a bust through the place.”

Like I said. I burned a lot of cakes.

“Nope, I'm all good. I’ll be in shortly,” I confirm.

“Okay then. See ya soon.” I disconnect and then call Mrs. Weathers to confirm the interview for two weeks from today.

It’s amazing how painless the drive is without weekly traffic. I make it to May’s in record time. I walk into the store and witness Betty and Mayvis going at it by the register. I look over at Katie and mouth, “Really?” Is there ever a day that these women don’t bicker over sweets?

I actually help Katie out up front for a couple of hours and I know she appreciates the extra hand. “This place is kind of crazy on Saturdays,” I say. I’m a little shocked and also in admiration of her that she is able to manage May’s on her own on such a busy day.

“Yeah, it’s pretty much the same as the weekdays. I have a system, so it goes pretty smoothly.”

I look at Katie in awe. She is definitely getting a raise. At lunch, she goes into explaining Jacob, the boy who she has decided is the best for the barista job. She sounds like she is halfway in love with him already and I’m glad for her. Apparently he has been in throughout the week, watching Katie work, saying he wants to learn everything he can about the shop before he starts. Ahh, young love.

It’s late afternoon and Katie and I are investigating the damage to the viewing window and what needs to be replaced. Just as I jot down the vanilla bean and waffle fritters, the front door to the shop bangs open, practically ripping the bell of its hinge. We both jump instantly at the loud sound. We turn to examine our unhappy customer and in storms Trent. Now, I have seen many facial expressions on his face since we’ve met, but this one—one of complete anger—is a new one. I hear Katie mutter an “oh shit” under her breath. Before I can say anything he is in my face, throwing me over his shoulder, and storming into the back bakery.

“Hey, put me down!” I wail. “You can’t just come in here and manhandle me anytime you want!” Who does he think he is?! God, his hands feel so good squeezing my hips.

Stay focused.

He flips me back upright just as quickly, and traps me against the fridge. I open my mouth to argue but that look says maybe I should just keep quiet; he is looking pretty crazy right now.

“I know. I get it. I know you’re fucking pissed with me and I get it. I thought giving you some time to cool off would do the trick, then I would come after you and force you to hear me out. Then you egged my damn house again and
I
needed time to cool off. I told you no more egging, Sweetcheeks.”

“Don’t call me that,” I try to argue, but while processing his words, I am also staring at his juicy lips. My body is totally selling me out. I try to fight it but he can tell. He presses his body into mine and, holy shit, he is actually hard right now.

“I let you hide in your head to try and work out whatever you thought was happening because I figured that’s what chicks do. They need time. But today? I get home from being away for a whole fucking week on a job and you know what I find, CeCe?”

He’s got me. “No?” I choke out.

“I find Jake back at my place. And that is going too far. Jake being back at my place means you’re done fighting with me. And I will never be done fighting with you. You’re gonna hear me out and you’re gonna understand why I kept what I did from you. Then we’re gonna move past this shit. Then I'm gonna bring Jake back over to your house, where he loves to be and belongs, and I’m gonna make you forget that you ever even thought of shutting me out.”

He ends his final spiel with another push, connecting his goods with mine, and even if I wanted to argue or fight back, I don’t get the chance because he is slamming his mouth onto mine. God, it’s like heaven. His sweet mouth suckling mine, taking everything that he can. If anyone in my shoes has the mental capacity to remember what we were even fighting about with this kiss in full action, then they are better than me. I let go of the last amount of resistance I have and throw myself into this kiss. My arms go up and around his neck and I tug his head closer, needing more of him. I’ve missed this so bad. It’s almost more painful than it is pleasurable to be in his arms again.

“God, I fucking missed you. Don’t fuckin’ shut me out again, CeCe,” he demands, slowing the kiss, tugging softly on my lower lip.

I am most certainly not about to let what happened go, but right now he’s turning me into putty and I need my fix. Fix now, battle later. My brain and my libido both agree.

I press into him harder, but he breaks away and I whine.

“Babe, what I want to do to you right now is not appropriate with customers up front, and I also know we need to talk before anything else.”

I let out a sigh. “Okay,” I comply. I am putty in his hands right now. Fix now, battle later.

“I have to head to the station and finish up paperwork. Then I'm coming back for you. I'm driving you home. Can’t have you going AWOL on me again.”

“Okay,” I say again. I wish I had something more intelligent to say other than stuttering the same thing over and over, setting my responses on repeat.

“I want you out of your head, baby. Then I want you under me. You feel me?”

“Okay.” Oh, for the love!

“CeCe?”

“Yes?”

“I love you. Let me prove it to you. Let me explain, then show you just exactly how deep that love runs, yeah?”

Putty. “Okay.”

At that, he laughs. I think he gets it.

“Good.” He plants a gentle but quick kiss on my swollen lips. He steps away and I practically peel my body off the refrigerator door. “Two hours. Be ready.”

I just nod my confirmation. If I spoke, I’m pretty sure I know exactly what would have come out.

He lifts his hand to brush a lose strand of hair dangling in my face and tucks it behind my ear. He gives me that smile that I have missed in my core and then walks out. I stand there in place as I hear the bell ding, knowing he is gone. It’s only when Katie busts into the bakery that I snap out of it.

“Are you okay?” she asks, out of breath.

“I think so.” Because I do think so.

“What did he say? Did you tell him to beat it? Threaten him?” She is staring at me, waiting for me to confirm my next move. It doesn’t take a genius to study my swollen lips and blushed cheeks. I see Katie putting two and two together. She crosses her arms against her chest. “So, I assume you are finally going to let him explain?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, because you look like you are about to swoon and you have that look back. That look like something or someone is lighting you up, and no offense, CeCe, but you kind of look…like all aroused or something.”

God, Katie did
not
just take this conversation there. “Oh my God! I do not!”

“Whatever you say, Ce. But your face is telling a whole other story. Listen, I’m happy for you. I was hoping it would have turned out this way over the other. I know I said some mean things about Trent, but to be honest, I like him. I do think he is good for you. I’m glad to see you are going to give him a chance to explain. I think you will see things in a whole new light when you do.”

“Wait a minute. How would you know how I'm going to take what he says about anything? What did he tell you? Have you talked to him?”

It’s the look of a child who just got caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

“Oh, you better start talking, like five seconds ago, missy.”

“Well, I’ve talked to him,” she says, starting to shift from one foot to the other.

“And…?”

“Well, he’s been calling daily to check up on you. Asking how you’re doing, stuff like that. Finally, one time, I just went off on him, telling him what a jerk he was for hurting you. Apparently your man is not one to take shit, so he let me have it. He told me his side. Hearing what he had to say, it gave me a change of heart, and in return I’ve let him call and know how you are doing. Like honestly doing.”

She is assessing my reaction to this news. Seeing as I don’t look like I’m going to attack, she continues. “He needed to know how he hurt you, Ce. He needed to know so he could make it right. But since he was on a job, he couldn’t get home, so he asked me to keep tabs on you.”

“Tabs on me?”

“I mean, nothing crazy like a
stakeout
or anything. Just how you were at the shop, when you got here. When you left. If you had mentioned any more egging stories.”

Seriously, get over it. They’re just eggs!

“It’s none of my business, but I know he’s been hurting, too. I could tell hear it in his voice when he had to listen to me explain all the burnt cakes and the no-show at work. I think he cares deeply for you, Ce, and I just think that you should hear him out.”

“How come you never told me this before?”

“Because you needed to work it out on your own. I didn’t want to interfere. And I needed to know he was worth it. I knew, same as you, it had to be him to make the move. Which he did.”

My Katie, such a wise soul in a young body.

There’s nothing more to say except, “Thank you.” We reach for one another and hug. I tell her she is the best employee I’ve ever had, and she reminds me that she is the
only
employee I’ve ever had. Good point.

I tell her to go home. I will finish out the rest of the day. She doesn’t even argue; she collects her stuff and takes off. Apparently she has a date with Jacob tonight and the extra time to freak out in her apartment will do her good.

I spend the rest of the afternoon taking stock of the viewing window and researching high-tech coffee machines. I'm sitting in the back on the laptop, trying to figure out the difference between a Dolce Gusto and a Swiss Precision Coffee Machine, when I hear the bell. I look at my watch and see that it’s five after five.

“I'm back here,” I call out. Not that Trent couldn’t figure out where I was. I save my search and begin to shut down the computer. This can wait. I have more important matters to discuss. After talking to Katie, I think the fight in me is all gone. I just want to hear what Trent has to say, then hear him tell me he loves me over and over while we make out all over the house. Where there’s a breakup, there’s a makeup, and ours will be in the form of a sex fiesta.

I stand to meet Trent by the doorway, and freeze.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I lock eyes with the one and only she-devil.

With her dainty arms bent, holding her hips, and body language screaming sassy bitch, the she-devil speaks. “Well, it seems that you mean something to my brother and he means something to me. And if I don’t make it right, he’s not going to be a part of my life anymore. And I can’t have that. So I’m here to make things right.”

What. The. Fuck?

I don’t think so. She is not just going to walk in here and throw her sass at me with some fake truce. “I think you have done enough. So you can, oh, how shall I say it, your words exactly, get the fuck outta here?” I stare back at Candy, Cassie, I don’t really care what her real name is. I might be ready to forgive Trent and move past this but I swear I will NOT get past she-devil.

“Listen, I’m not here to fight. If you just calm down for a damn second, you will actually hear an apology outta me, but if you’re gonna continue to be such a bitch about it, then I'm outta here!”

No one, and I mean NO ONE, calls me a bitch in my own bakery. This is a safe place, and you do NOT mess with the sanctuary of the bakery.

“That’s it, bitch.” That is me officially throwing down the gauntlet. It’s on...I'm taking her ass down. Then I'm going to send her back to Jeff with patches of her hair missing. I get two battle steps in when I hear the bell. Good, Trent’s here. He can help peel his sister off the floor when I’m done with her. I’m about to meet fist with cheek when a male face I do not recognize walks into the back. I abruptly stop. Dude, who just walks into the back of someone’s shop?

“Sorry, we’re closed,” I say. He needs to beat it. Cassie takes her eyes off me to turn and look at our intruder. “Sir, I said we are closed. I’m sorry you’re going to have to come back on Monday when we reopen.” I’m getting annoyed. People just need to get a grip when it comes to their pastry addictions.

The way he is just looking back and forth between the two of us is starting to give me the creeps. He doesn’t seem to be registering my words. Cassie steps in and addresses Mr. Creepo. “Hey, buddy, she said they’re closed. Now fuckin’ beat it, would ya?” Again, it’s like he is just looking straight through us. Just when Cassie turns to physically remove him, he snaps out of his daze. He reaches in the back of his pants, as she makes it into his personal space. Project Get the She-Devil Out of My Bakery quickly takes a back seat when he pulls out a gun and places it against her head.