34. Cole
Thank you.
Those two little words played like a record skipping in my head as I jogged up the stoop of my building. My chest was tight, and beads of sweat dripped down my back. I couldn't stop hearing Bailey whisper those words against my neck and feeling the gut punch every time I did. Who knew that two tiny, innocuous words could feel like a hot dagger twisting in your heart? Not me. But they did. Not the words themselves, but what they represented.
Just like with Layla, I'd done what I was hired to do. I'd made Simon jealous, and now they could live happily ever after. Except, unlike Layla, Bailey hadn't actually paid me. So, I'd been a fool for free.
When I got home earlier this morning, I'd tried to put the entire weekend behind me. I'd taken the boys to the park and Carly out for a boba drink. Then, I'd cooked dinner, cleaned, and showered. I'd tried to go to bed early since I hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the past seventy-two hours, and I had to be at the job site before dawn tomorrow morning. But all I'd done was toss and turn on the couch, hearing Bailey's voice, feeling her lips brush against my neck as I held her in my arms, and her thanking me for being the bait to get her ex back.
In a failed attempt to burn off some of my anxiety and clear my head, I'd gone on a ninety-minute run. I would have stayed out longer, but since I had to be up in four hours, I figured I might as well try and get to sleep. So, I was home, for all the good it was going to do me.
My legs were heavy as I trudged up the six flights of stairs. Every time I was tired and walking up these steps, I thought about Sara. We didn't have an elevator in our building, but she never complained, even though I knew that she was in pain. I needed to find another place for us. Somewhere with no stairs or a lot fewer stairs. More square footage. A backyard for the boys. Another bathroom.
I should be focusing my mind on that goal. Instead, all I could think about was Bailey. The silky, soft strands of her hair. The fresh floral scent of her body. The sweet, melodic sound of her voice.
Being with her was the first time I'd felt peace…maybe ever in my life. When I was with her, the world didn't feel like it was closing in on me or that the weight of it rested solely on my shoulders.
But it was over. I wasn't an idiot. The only reason an ex would show up on someone's doorstep the day after his wedding would be to get her back. She'd been in love with him since she was fourteen. There was no way I could compete with that sort of history.
I put the key in the lock and turned it quietly. Before I opened it, I heard voices on the other side. Female voices.
Carly must be up with Sara, I thought. I took a deep breath and mentally prepped myself to answer questions as to why I'd gone out on a run at midnight. When I stepped inside and looked up, I saw that was not what I should have prepared myself for.
It seemed Bailey wasn't the only one who had an ex showing up. Lindsay was on the couch with my sister. And from the looks of it, she'd been crying. Lindsay, that is, not my sister.
"Lindsay? What are you?—"
"I'm going to go to bed." Sara cut me off as she leaned over and gave Lindsay a hug. "It was good seeing you, sweetie."
"You, too." Lindsay hugged her back as she took in a shaky breath.
Sara stood and, on the way to her room, gave me a quick hug, whispering in my ear, "She's been drinking. I tried to text you."
Text me?I pulled my phone out and saw that it was dead. I hadn't let my phone die since I was a teenager. Once Peter got sick and then Sara, I always had it fully charged. Today had really shaken me up.
Once we were alone, I turned to Lindsay. "Do you want some water?"
She nodded as she wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks. I went into the kitchen, plugged in my phone, poured Lindsay a glass of water, and put two Alka Seltzers in it for her stomach. Then, I quickly made a peanut butter and banana sandwich. It was her favorite sandwich, or had been at one time, and it would help soak up the alcohol.
I came back into the room and found Lindsay curled up in the corner of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. She wasn't crying anymore, which was a good thing. I hated seeing anyone cry, but especially people I cared about. And part of me would always care about Lindsay.
When I handed her the glass of water and sandwich, tears filled her eyes once more. Her bottom lip quivered as she sniffed. "You made me a peanut butter and banana sandwich."
"You don't have to eat it."
"No, I want it. I just…it just…that's who you are." She waved her hand up and down like she was a showcase model, and the sandwich was a car.
I wasn't sure how much she'd had to drink, but since she wasn't making sense, I figured it was a lot. If she wanted to say I was a peanut butter and banana sandwich, I wasn't going to argue with her. "Okay."
"Right?!" she exclaimed as she took a bite.
"Uh-huh." I agreed again.
"That's who you are!" she insisted loudly as she chewed.
"Yep. I'm a sandwich," I said, hoping she'd drop it.
"No." Her head fell back as she laughed. "You are the guy who, when their ex, who cheated on you and ghosted you, shows up at their apartment drunk after three years, you make them fizzy water and a peanut butter and banana sandwich, so they don't get sick. That's who you are."
"Yeah, I'm a real hero," I stated flatly.
Her eyes widened as she nodded her head aggressively. "You are, and you don't even know it. You're not just a hero. You're a superhero, and I fucked everything up." Tears began pouring down her face as she broke down in sobs.
"Lindsay, it's okay. Just eat your sandwich. Drink your water." I flipped on the TV to try and give her a chance to breathe. It was cued up to The Office, which didn't surprise me since it was Sara's favorite show.
I pressed play and made a mental note of where the episode was at, so I could cue it back up to that spot. There was nothing worse than someone messing up a show you're binging by watching it and making you lose your place. I wasn't a superhero, like Lindsay claimed, but I wasn't an asshole.
We sat and watched the casino episode where John Krasinski's character Jim finally tells Jenna Fischer's character Pam that he's in love with her. When the episode ended, I glanced over and saw Lindsay setting her now empty glass down on the coffee table and wadding up the paper towel that had housed her sandwich.
"Better?" I asked.
"Better." She took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm so sorry, CJ."
"It's okay," I assured her. "It was a long time ago."
"No. It's not. I was stupid and young, and you had so much going on. I was scared that if I stayed with you, I'd end up having all that responsibility, too. I should have just told you what I was feeling. And I was going to. I tried to, but every time I saw you, you just looked so tired and worn down and scared. I just…I couldn't bring myself to add any more stress to you."
I couldn't help but grin at the irony of her not wanting to stress me out but then cheating on me and moving across the country without even telling me.
"I know, I know. What I ended up doing was so much worse. But, it really did just sort of happen."
"I don't want to talk abo?—"
"Please? Can I please just tell you what happened? I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I just need you to know." A single tear slid down her cheek.
I could see that she was barely holding herself together.
"Okay." I'd listen to her if that's what she needed for closure. It's not like I was going to get any sleep anyway.
She inhaled slowly before continuing. "Do you remember Samantha's birthday party? We were supposed to go, but you had to bail at the last minute."
"Vaguely." If I remembered correctly, Sara had a seizure and was rushed to the hospital. "It was a couple of weeks before you left, right?"
"Yeah, it was. I went to the party, and I was upset. I mean, I was young, and I felt like, you know, I was losing you. We barely saw each other, and when we did, you were always so stressed. I mean, well, of course you were. No one could have handled what you were handling the way you did. I know that now, but at the time, it all sort of came to a head for me emotionally that night. And Frankie was there. He listened to me and was a shoulder to cry on."
I'm sure he was.Frankie Marcon had always had a thing for Lindsay, and he probably saw a crack in the door, and he kicked his way in.
"I don't even know how it happened. I was drinking, a lot. Not that that's any excuse. We started kissing, and then it just…I don't know…"
I did. You fucked him.He happily told Finn all about it, who then had to tell me.
"I woke up the next day and panicked. I knew that I had to tell you, but I didn't know how. Then, I got a call for a job opening in New York as a buyer for Saks. I tried to tell you I was going to leave, but I was scared that if I did, you'd ask me to stay, and if you asked me to, I would have. If I did stay, I would have to tell you that?—"
"Uncle CJ," Leo walked into the front room. His hair was sticking out in all different directions, and he was rubbing his eyes as he climbed onto my lap. "I had a bad dream."
"Okay, bud. You're okay." I looked over at Lindsay.
"Hi, I'm Lindsay." She waved at him. "I haven't seen you since you were a baby."
Leo, who was the shyer of the twins, snuggled his head against my chest.
"Come on, let's get you to bed." I stood and walked into his room.
After tucking him back in, he asked if I'd read him a book. He chose Charlotte's Web. We'd left off on chapter eight earlier; we made it to chapter eleven before he was back asleep. I stood and headed back into the hall. I closed the door quietly.
When I walked back into the front room, I found Lindsay sound asleep. I could wake her up, but then I'd have to make sure she got home safely. Instead, I pulled a throw blanket up over her and sat in the armchair.
It wasn't the first night I'd spent in the chair. After the twins were born, I'd spent quite a few nights in it for feedings. As I closed my eyes, all I could think about was Bailey and those two words. Thank you.
As badly as Lindsay had betrayed me, somehow Bailey using me to get back with her ex felt worse. Even though I knew she hadn't done it intentionally; she would never use anyone in that way. But the outcome was still the same. He was with her, and I wasn't.
It was for the best. I couldn't offer her what she deserved. I couldn't even make it through a talk with my ex without being interrupted. If being with Simon made Bailey happy, then that was all that mattered to me. I just wanted her to have everything she'd always dreamed of, even if it wasn't with me.