Invisible String

Chapter 50 - Death By A Thousand Cuts

The next morning, I woke and rechecked my phone. Nothing. As hard as I tried to push aside feelings of regret and remorse, my stomach wouldn't let me. With each passing hour that Jaiden left me in a lurch, the feeling inside of me sank deeper and deeper. I'd gone on all day, keeping myself busy with cleaning and unpacking before I'd finally had enough sitting around and waiting. It was nearing nine at night, and I still hadn't heard from him. So, unable to take another minute of worrying about him, I changed into jeans and a sweater, grabbed my jacket and purse, then left, heading straight for his apartment.

Luckily, he hadn't changed the access code for his floor, so after punching it in, the elevator buzzed to life and brought me upwards. As it approached his floor, I heard loud, thumping music and the humming of people growing louder and louder. The doors opened to a large, over-flowing apartment. Everyone was dressed in white and black clothing, obviously some sort of themed party. They hung around the walls of his house. Most of them I'd never seen before.

I walked slowly, maneuvering through the crowd, nodding at the very few friends of his that I'd met. They pointed me in his direction, which happened to be out on the patio. The doors were held open by people leaning on the outside doors, smoking pot. I looked around and spotted Jaiden in the hot tub, surrounded by numerous topless, possibly naked, women. One of them sat on his lap.

I looked ahead at him, my heart racing with anger and residual pain. But I walked over, head held high, pushing away my emotions as best as I could. Jaiden caught my eyes as I made my way over to him, and he jumped out of the water quickly, racing to meet me before I reached the hot tub.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice booming even over the ridiculously loud music.

He approached me soaking wet in a tiny pair of boxer-briefs and grabbed a nearby towel to dry himself off. He avoided looking me in the eyes directly but an expression of horror and embarrassment burdened his face.

"I came to pick up my things. You never texted me back."

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I forgot." He looked away from me, at the party, and rubbed the back of his head. "Come on." He led me off the patio and back into his bedroom. He pulled off the key hanging around his neck and unlocked the door, a smart thing to do during a party like this one.

Once we were both inside, he closed the door behind us. It was much quieter in his room with no one around.

"What is this?" I asked, trying not to sound judgmental.

"Don't, Hannah." He put up a hand. "Don't start," he said.

Apparently, I'd failed at my attempt to sound open-minded. I put my hands up in mock surrender, and he grabbed a box from the side of his bed.

"I think this is all of it," he said, his eyes avoiding contact with my own.

"My laptop?" I asked, searching through the box.

"Right," he said, leaving the room and returning a moment later. "Sorry. I used it in the gym room the other day. Hope you don't mind but I stole some of your music."

I shook my head and shrugged while setting the laptop on top of the box. "Was it Taylor Swift?" I smirked, and he shook his head, not laughing. "Sorry. Guess I should let you get back to it," I said, trying to catch his eyes, but he was avoidant. "Jaiden, just look at me for a second."

He looked up at me, his eyes were bloodshot, pupil's huge. I took in a sharp breath, and he looked away again, shouting at me, "Goddammit, Hannah, you have no right!"

"Jaiden, you can't go back to that shit," I said, reaching out for his hand, but he yanked it away.

"Don't fucking touch me. You lost that right when you chose that asshole over me."

He looked up at me, pure anger in his eyes.

My jaw clenched as I took a step towards him, and he backed up against the wall. My face just inches away from his, tears in both of our eyes, I said, "I didn't choose this." I looked at his face. He had circles around his eyes, his skin was dry, and his hair was greasy. I doubted he'd been sleeping, eating much, or doing anything good for him. "I never would've never chosen this."

He shook his head, sliding to the right. "Hannah, I'm so done with this. Get out. Just go." He opened the bedroom door, letting in all the sound and drama. "Go."

I stared at him, but he wouldn't look at me again, and then after a moment of both of us just standing there, he walked out. "See yourself out, then," he said, his back to me as he walked away.

I stood still, the light from the hallway shining into the room on my feet. I took a step forward, shut the door, and sat down on his bed, my head in my hands. What could I do for him now? He'd chosen this path. But had I made it worse? Did I cause it all to come back again? He had been doing so well. Did I ruin him?

After a few moments of sitting still and burying myself in regret and remorse, I stood. The only thing I could do was the one thing I knew I shouldn't. I left my things in the bedroom, went back into the party to find him.

He'd made his way back towards the hot tub and I gained on him as I followed. Finally, I reached him and grabbed his hand. He faced me but yanked his hand free.

"Stop, Hannah," he said. "Just fucking go. You don't belong here."

"You don't either."

"Yes, I do. This is my home, these are my people. I am right where I should be." His eyes were wide as he held his hands against his chest, then gestured to me. "You, on the other hand, should be back at your home, typing away on your laptop and hiding away from the world like the good little girl that you are."

My eyebrows drew together and I bit my inner cheeks as I stared back at him. Who was this man? Who the hell had I gotten to know over the last few months? Because this was not him.

"Why are you even here?" he asked, stepping closer to me. "If he's the one you want, what the hell are you doing here? You can't just tell me it's about your stuff when you're following me around like a puppy now."

"Fuck you," I said.

"Seriously, Hannah, did you ever really love me? Or was it all just some ploy to win him back?"

"Of course I loved you," I said, regret stinging my eyes like acid.

"You want to know something," he said, stepping towards me until he was mere inches away. "My mother always used to say when I was young that there was a big difference between being in love with someone and loving them. Because being in love meant that you could eventually fall out of it just as easily as you fell in. But loving someone, that's forever. It never goes away. So you may have loved me. I'll give you that. But how long did it take for you to realize that you'd fallen out of it?" He brushed a finger through my hair, and my jaw clenched, a feeling of sickness flushing over me. "When he came crawling back to you? Is that when? When you realized that he was still an option?" he asked, spitting the words out like venom in my face.

I reached out my hand and slapped him the hardest I'd ever hit anyone. I hadn't hit many people in my life. The thing with my father had been the absolute rarest occurrence of my life. One that I had sincerely regretted. But this, even if there was a hellish price to pay for it, I would never regret it.

His face turned sideways, a smirk on the edge of it. And a part of me deeply wanted to slap him again. He finally looked at me, a giant red mark on the side of his face.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" I asked. "This isn't you, Jaiden."

"You don't know me," he said, pointing his finger in my face. "And you never really did."

He lowered his finger and went back out to the patio.

Tears seared my cheeks as Iraced back to his room to grab my box of things and I rushed through the crowd tothe elevator and tried my damdest to ignore the eyes watching my every move.