Time To Live

Chapter 13: Sorry

It's been two weeks since we last spoke, but it feels like two decades. Rick stared at the sentence on his laptop and sighed. Jenna refused to answer his calls or texts, and each attempt at randomly dropping by her apartment failed because she was never home. Was she out with the new guy? Was the new guy even worthy of her? Shit, did he even know about Christian yet? He rubbed his temples slowly and tried to force himself to continue his last-ditch effort.

You've locked me out and I don't exactly blame you, Jen. I know what I confessed was bullshit and that it could never work – that you don't even want it to work. I accept that now and I apologize. Please talk to me? Even if it's just to scream in my face and call me every name in the book, please say something!

He reread his writing and realized that he sounded as desperate as he felt. Fuck it, he sighed and hit "Send". She wasn't even speaking to him now, so how could he possibly make it any worse?

* * *

Jenna stared down at her phone and then turned her gaze up toward the doorbell. Hopefully, this was not Rick coming to confront her after sending that pathetically desperate e-mail. Which, not to mention, was heaped onto his pathetically desperate need to confess that he loved her. She shook her head in disgust. Rick was a good guy, a good friend, but she was so done with anyone involved in that band, anyone who currently knew or had ever known He Who Shall Not Be Named.

Annoyed, she forcefully yanked her door open and, oh shit, there he was. There was the bane of her existence standing on her little welcome mat, clad head to toe in black and looking equal parts confused and terrified, ready to run and wanting to jump with glee. He quickly slid his sunglasses onto the top of his head and smiled cautiously. "Jen, I, uh, I, uh, uh, hi?"

She wasn't even aware that she had crossed her arms over her chest as she stood ogling him, wanting to scream and shout and make a scene, but realizing that maybe she should have realized this was her fate; she should have seen this coming. Frowning, glancing around her neighborhood nervously and looking for any possible out no matter how pathetic, she quickly resigned herself to her fate and gestured the tall man inside.

He followed her quietly into the small living space and stood lording over her, looking equally pained. "I'm sorry" was all he offered.

She tossed herself onto the loveseat and let out a noise like a deflating balloon. "Sorry hardly cuts it, Christopher. Fucking hell, sorry doesn't even put a dent into the pain you've caused me."

Assuming that since she was actually speaking to him and not throwing sharp objects, it was okay to sit, he placed himself on the larger sofa – where he had fallen asleep with his son in his arms only hours earlier. He tried to hide the smile that overcame him at the memory. "I know," he confessed softly. "And I also know that there's nothing I can say that will fix any of that immediately, but sorry is the best beginning, right?"

Jenna glared at him for a long moment and then, without warning, burst into tears. She buried her pale face in her hands and cried loudly. "You ruined my life," she eked out between sobs. "I loved you with everything I had, and you ruined my life."