Sweet Torment/A Jordan Knight Fanfic (18+)✔️

30

Chapter Thirty

I sat in my car with no real plan, staring at the steering wheel in a daze. I half expected Jordan to come after me. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to or if I just wanted him to leave me alone.

That's a lie.

I wanted him to chase me down and fight for me. I wanted it with every fiber of my being.

But I knew he wouldn't. He'd been pretty clear that morning. He was done playing games. I had no idea what sort of mess I'd left behind. He'd been honest with his feelings for me, and I'd still walked.

What was done was done. I'd acted impulsively for too long, and it was time to get a plan together and move on with my life.

The events of the past twelve hours hadn't quite hit me yet, but I had a feeling that once they did, the emotions would be overwhelming.

I called Kaylee while I sat numbly in the parking lot.

"Hey, Emily." Her voice was tired.

"You need some help with that little girl?" I asked, faking enthusiasm.

"Sure, I could use some help. Don't you have to work?"

"It's a long story."

"Come on over." I knew my sister. She'd never come out and ask for help directly. She'd only take it if it was offered. And I was out of a job and essentially homeless.

I was hoping she'd be interested in a mutually beneficial arrangement. Maybe she'd let me stay with them to help out with Madi while she focused on helping her husband on his road to recovery.

"I'll be there in a couple of hours."

I started the car and glanced up toward Jordan's office window. I couldn't see in with the bright sunlight, but I imagined him standing in his window watching me. I imagined our eyes met for one last long glance, and I imagined the pain in his matching the pain in mine.

I tore my gaze from the window and touched my fingers to my lips. I imagined it meant I was giving him a secret kiss, and I closed my eyes for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and heading toward my apartment.

Once I got "home," I packed my suitcase with as many clothes as I could fit. It was early-afternoon, so I had all the time I wanted, really—but I didn't dawdle.

After I brought my clothes and bags to my car, I went back in to leave a note for Charlie. Before I wrote the note, I looked around the apartment that I'd decorated with my husband. I took a moment in each room, allowing the memories to wash over me.

As much as I'd felt neglected recently—and for much of our marriage—it hadn't always been that way. As I walked through the family room, I heard our shared laughter at our favorite sitcom. In the kitchen, I smelled Charlie's burnt toast the morning after we'd moved into this apartment. Down the hallway, I saw us making love up against the wall one night when we hadn't made it to the bedroom—the night we'd gotten engaged.

When I walked into the office, though, I remembered sitting in the chair, cheating on my husband as I listened to the voice of another man guide me to climax.

When I walked into the bedroom, the memory that hit me was the night before.

This wasn't how I ever imagined it.

I always thought marriage was once and forever, but that was before I married the wrong man.

Hindsight makes everything so much easier. It was easy to look back and say he'd been wrong for me, but I hadn't seen the signs when we'd been dating. I hadn't expected to one day wake up and realize that I didn't love him anymore.