Raw [#Wattys2015]

Chapter 5

So, let's take a moment and talk about the extreme level of unfairness in regards to your heart and the emotions you feel on behalf of it. Let's just revel in the awe that is the betrayal of your own body as it forces you to feel things you really don't want to feel and how those feelings evolve into frightening emotions like anger and bitterness.

The human heart is a ridiculous organ that should just stick to pumping blood through our veins and stay out of our personal lives. In the last five months, since I last spoke to James Bailey and closed the sale of his condo, I have spent countless minutes missing things I never really had.

I miss the look of his goatee wrapped around his strong jaw, the smooth sound of his tenor voice as he speaks into the phone to me, the look of the muscles on his arms when his shirt sleeves are rolled up just right. And as if feeling insane while your heart forces your head to miss something you never had isn't enough, I also keep thinking I see him in every tall, dirty-blond headed man I see. I can't even count the times I've all but chocked on my tongue at the sight of a man that doesn't even compare to the memory of his gorgeous face when my mind plays tricks on me. It's irritating, to be frank and I hate it.

At first, it was sort of nice to dream about how it might feel for his hands to touch my skin. Crushing on a guy you're smitten with can be a pleasant distraction when you're thinking thoughts like that. What isn't pleasant, is when those thoughts shift and the woman he is touching suddenly isn't you. I hate that I still yearn to feel my skin against his and break my neck to steal a glance at a guy that clearly isn't him. So yea, now I'm bitter. No, scratch that. I'm not bitter, I'm pissed.

I mean for crying out loud, this is my body, my heart and my brain right? So, why exactly do I not get to choose how I feel about this?

To cope, I've buried myself in work mostly and in spending time with my friends in an effort to force his stupid, gorgeous face out of my head. It hasn't worked of course, but that doesn't mean that I won't stop trying. Like, right now for example it is three o'clock on a Saturday and I'm sitting at my desk updating client records. Yay me.

It's dreadfully boring and my mind is still on the face of Adonis and his strong arms. I'm not exactly sure how long I've been sitting here doing mindless data entry work that's typically intended for our receptionist, but I do know it's long enough for me to have tuned out the world around me because the sound of my desk phone ringing stops my heart mid-beat and forces a yelp from my mouth.

"Rockland Realty Company, Rory speaking how may I help you?" my voice probably sounds squeaky and high as I mumble the lame office greeting.

"How did I know you would be at work on a Saturday?" Charleigh says, in a voice that sounds more like the one I was used to hearing before she fled town.

"Oh my god, Charleigh! I'm so glad to hear from you!" I squeal, feeling grateful beyond the scope of words to finally hear her voice. After an unspeakable tragedy took place in the kitchen of her parent's trailer about a month ago, she fled town, begrudgingly taking the money I vowed to give her and went back in search of Leo, the guy that still has her heart. She hasn't said so, but I know there is more to her reason for leaving than just finding him. Besides the fact that Charleigh never would have taken a nickel from me unless she was left would another option, I know that what happened at that trailer is something that you watch on an episode of CSI. I know there is something terrible she isn't telling me but as her friend, I've decided not to pry and just wait for her to tell me when she's ready.

"Sorry it took me so long to call, I've been trying to get settled somewhere. I don't have long to chat, but I just wanted to thank you. I owe you my life."