Letting Go Of The Past

We turn up a dirt gravel road; there is nothing as far as the eyes can see, we stay on the road for another ten minutes. When we come around a turn, then I see it, the most beautiful house I have ever seen. It's not made from bricks or stone; it is from different kinds of wood. The windows are big, they are open, more windows than walls. It is surrounded by green grass all over, colorful white flowers everywhere, there is a pond with giant fish. Trees are surrounding the house for miles and miles.

"Is this where you stay? It is amazing."

"The other small house is at the back of it. If you are going to stay in town, you can stay there."

"Thank you; you really have been nice to me."

He gets that damn sexy smile on his face, and I swear my knees give in all over again. With a husky voice, he speaks, "It is hard not to be nice to you."

The tone of his voice vibrates over my skin. I take two swallow breaths and exhale. In a whimper, I speak to avoid my clear fluster to be seen. "You know it is not breakfast time anymore?"

"Then I will just have to make you lunch."

"You going to make me lunch to eat or make me the lunch to eat?" God, Jenna, did you just say that.

He bursts out in laughter, "Trust you to turn that one around on me."

In total embarrassment, I change the subject, "So what do you do out here in the middle If nowhere?

"Whatever I want."

"Do you have satellite?"

"Yes."

"A pool?"

"Yes."

He looks at me and slightly cocks his head; he knows that I am not done with my questions yet.

"Do you have animals?"

"Just horses."

"Do you go riding?"

'Yes."

"Do you have those four-wheelers?"

"Yes."

"Why are you not married?" Dammit, Jenna, I give myself a mental slap.

"Wow," he says out of shock, "That was a whole three-sixty there."

"Sorry, I was just wondering why a guy like you is single."

"You playing twenty questions again?"

I avoid his question and a whole new level of stupidity sets over me.

"Can I try something?"

"Depends."

"Depends on what?"

"On what it is?"

I walk over to where Tyler is standing; I take my fingers and tangle them in the seems of his shirt. Slowly I start pulling his shirt up to his chest, past his shoulders, over his head, and toss it to the floor. I run my finger down from his collarbone, over his rock hard chest, running circles around his nipples, moving over the ripples of his perfectly formed abs. I run my fingers along the fabric of his pants, around his waist, and drag my nails up his back. He growls from the deep of his chest.

"Fuck Tyler, you are gorgeous."

Then my stupid phone rings, it is Brendan. Talk about bad timing, definitely a mood killer.

Tyler notices my face turning pale, "What is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"It is not nothing."

"Don't worry about it."

"You have gone completely white. What is it?"

Then my phone stops ringing. For a second, I feel as the relief sets over my body. I hope he does not ask again.

"See, it is nothing," I try to reassure him.

But my phone starts ringing again.

"It will stop now," I say as I frantically try to press it to stop it from ringing.

Then it stops ringing again.

"I think you should answer it," he says as he tries to calm my shaking hands.

"No."

"How many times does he phone a day?"

"About forty."

"Answer it," he tries to convince me. "Put it behind you."

"I don't know what to say."

"Just be honest. I will give you some privacy."

"No," I stop him from leaving. "Please stay."

The phone starts to ring again. This is it; I have not spoken to Brendan since I left him at the altar. I don't know what I am going to say; I will just explain how I felt in that hour before I ran away. I have to sum up our life together with what was good and what was not. Why is closing this chapter so hard? It is not that my relationship failed; it is because I, as a person, failed.

I put the phone on speakerphone as Brendan starts to speak.

"Hey, Jen."

"Hi, Brendan."

"Sweety, where are you?"

This is not the Brendan that I know; he will never call me sweety. His sugar-coated words will not work on me.

"It's not important where I am, Brendan."

"Please tell me."

"No. Are you okay?"

I hear the anger start to rise in his voice, "How can you ask me if I am okay?"

"I just want you to be okay, the best okay that you can be."

"You left me at the altar, Jen. You looked me straight in the face as you drove off. Where is the best okay there?"

"I could not do it."

"I figured that out when I saw you dress in hand, running away from the church. Why?"

Here it is, the moment has arrived. I need to tell him the truth no matter how scared I am.

"There was no future for us anymore. We not nearly compatible; we stop being a couple a long time ago," I swallow hard and keep the courage to go on. "I felt trapped and unhappy, most of all lonely. We, us, weren't working anymore. You wanted to marry me, but you were not present in my life at all. You are miserable and act so old; you were dragging me down with you."

With one sigh, I feel as if the burden has finally been lifted off my shoulders. But if I thought he would understand, it has only made him angry instead.

"You made me feel like an idiot; the people felt too sorry for me; they could not face me, so they all left."

"I am sorry, Brendan."

"Sorry is just not good enough. If you come back home, then I will forget this ever happened."

"That's not going to happen."

"Did you meet someone else? Is that why you left me?"

"No. You married to your job; if you could have sex with it, you would."

"I gave you everything, Jen. Whatever you wanted, you got."

"No," I snap at him. "I wanted a boyfriend, a fiance, a husband. You did not give me any of those; you were none of them."

"You are an ungrateful bitch. You are probably sacking up with some low life scum; you nothing better than a whore."

This is exactly what I have been waiting for, the real Brendan. "I glad to see this part of you has not changed yet. I forgot that this should be another reason why I left you."

"You are a slut. No man in his right mind should even stick it up that dirty thing of yours."

"At least I will get some. I don't think your little problem would have sorted itself out by now."

The minute the words leave my mouth, I know that it will make him beyond furious.

"You fucking whore You better pray that I don't find you."

I look at Tyler with tears building threatening to erupt. He takes the phone from my trembling hands.

"Listen, buddy; if you call her a whore one more time, then I am going to ram my fist in your face until you cannot say it again."

With that, Tyler drops the call, tosses the phone away, and pulls me in his arms. I place my face against his chest; his heart is beating fast; I look at his face; it is calm. His face is deceiving what is in his heart, anger. I push my face deeper into his chest, not because it is comforting because it is warm and naked.