Destroy Rebuild

“What the hell is taking him so long?” Megan groaned.

Knowing Jack was coming to get the things Alex needed for tour and how awkward it was going to be alone with him drove me a little crazy. I had a hunch he wasn’t going to be that pleased with me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he were to start criticizing me about what I did. I needed reinforcement if I was going to make it through the painful visit, and Megan was happy to be my backbone.

I scooped up a baby spoonful of mashed peas and held it out to Will in his highchair. “Maybe Alex knew making me wait would be torture.”

“Please,” she mumbled with a scoff. “He’s being a major prick about this, dude.”

“Tell me about it,” I sighed.

“I mean, does he just not understand that you wouldn’t have done what you did if he hadn’t have done what he did?”

I wiped some of the peas from Will’s chin with his bib. “I think it has more to do with who I did it with.”

“Okay, but still,” she shrugged. “He did it with his ex-girlfriend. You did it with some random guy you used to work with.”

“You know he wasn’t random, Meg,” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Alex hates Eric.”

Megan stared at me with soft, sad eyes. “Don’t you dare take the blame for this, Whitney. He is just as wrong here.”

I didn’t want to keep arguing with her because I knew she was right, for the most part. It was wrong for him to be mad at me for doing something he did, too. But I knew he wouldn’t be as mad if I’d done it with literally anyone else. He kind of had the right to be a little mad, but not full on furious to the point where he didn’t even want to see me. He was being a little too spiteful.

Every hair on my body stood straight as the doorbell rang through the house. Megan stood straight from where she was leaning against the island and I had to grip the spoon tighter, my hands suddenly damp with sweat.

“Do you want me to get it?” Megan asked, her expression serious and vengeful.

I shook my head and set the spoon down. If I had her answer the door, it would feel like admitting guilt. I didn’t want him to think I was sorry.

As I dragged myself to the door, I briskly wiped my palms on the fabric of my shorts. Once I reached the barricade I took a deep breath before swinging it open, trying my hardest to look nonchalant. Jack looked almost as nervous as I was, like he was just ready to get this over with.

“Hey,” he said, the flat line of his lips almost passing for a smile.

I offered a very lazy one back and stood to the side so he could come in. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked past me.

“I just need ten minutes and a suit case and I’ll be out of here,” he sighed.
I nodded and started towards the bedroom, Jack a good few feet behind me. He stood by the bed while I went into the closet and pulled out the two duffle bags Alex packed when he went away. Jack offered me an almost apologetic smile as he set them on the bed and I kind of got the feeling he felt more sorry for me than he was upset with me.

He didn’t say anything as he went from drawer to drawer, grabbing what he deemed necessary. I thought it would be best if I took advantage of having a line of communication to Alex handy and used the opportunity to find out where his head was at.

“So where is he?” I asked.

Jack looked back at me from where he was collecting some of Alex’s underwear. I made a mental note to never question their close connection. He furrowed his brows a little before putting on a real smile.

“I can’t tell you that.”

I let my eye close as they rolled behind my lids. “Really, Jack?”

“Really,” he nodded.

I exhaled deeply. This was going to take some patience. “Then can you tell me if I’ll get to see him before he leaves?”

He shrugged as he scooped every stitch of fabric from Alex’s t-shirt drawer and stuffed it in one of the duffle bags. “If he wants to see you, I’m sure he will.”

“Okay, is he ever going to talk to me so I can figure that out?” I huffed.

Jack folded all of Alex’s shorts into one lump of laundry before setting it beside the mound of shirts. He stopped to glance up at me, his eyes squinting with sarcasm.

“He needs some time before he can talk to you,” he said with an almost soothing voice before it was replaced with venom as he added, “You can understand that, right Whitney?”

As I was about to open my mouth to respond, Megan stomped into the bedroom, catching both Jack and myself by surprise.

“Cut the shit, Barakat,” she spat as she continued to stomp towards him and I had to grab her wrist to keep her from swinging at him.

Jack looked between the two of us and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He rummaged through one of the duffle bags and I could barely hear him mumble something about “just doing a favor” and “getting tag-teamed by salty chicks”. It was then I realized I didn’t want him to feel threatened if I was going to get any information out of him, so I excused Megan to go keep an eye on Will while I tried to have a civilized conversation with Jack.

“Okay, look, I know I took a little while to talk to him-“ I was cut off by Jack’s laugh that lacked humor “-but at least I talked to him, Jack. I came back after I calmed down and I wanted to fix things between us. That’s more than I can say for him. At least I gave him a chance.”

“Is that what you call what you did?” he asked as he stuffed pairs of socks into the bag. “’Calming down’?”

I was becoming so frustrated that Jack wouldn’t cut me just a little bit of slack. He didn’t feel sorry for me at all. He probably hated me. The idea made tears prick the back of my eyes.

“I get that what I did was wrong, Jack. But he’s no angel either. I wouldn’t have reached out to Eric if he wouldn’t have been hanging out with her and kissing her.”

Jack glanced up from the duffle bag, his eyes narrowed. “You know it was all Sophia though.”

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “I know that now. I wasn’t aware at the time I saw a picture of them together on national fucking television. He could have told me. Hell, I even asked how his night went, which to me sounds like an open opportunity to fess up. But he lied to me.”

“But it was still all Sophia,” he said, his voice rising a little. “Do you not understand that? He didn’t want to kiss her. He wanted nothing to do with her. You chose to go out with the guy that said he’d steal you away from him. And you pretty much let him, Whitney. Or you at least gave him the idea that it was possible. You gave both of them that idea, actually.”

“Is this or is this not the same Sophia that made him choose between me and her?” I asked, my voice shaking a little.

“It is,” Jack nodded, jerking the zipper to shut the bag. “And who did he choose?”

Jack’s words cut like a knife and the guilt was slowly rising like a room flooding with water. Maybe I was more wrong than Alex, but no one could deny that none of this would have happened if he would have just been honest with me or if he would have stayed far away from her. I did the most damage, but his lack of honesty or effort made me do it.

I looked at the empty drawers on Alex’s side of the dresser, then at the over-stuffed suitcases waiting on the bed to be hauled off. My stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot as realization struck me like lightning.

“So, is this his way of breaking up with me?” I asked, and I shuddered as a silent tear fell to my cheek. “You pretty much packed all of his clothes.”

Jack’s face seemed to soften as he glanced down at the duffle bags. “Not necessarily. I may have been a bit overdramatic packing all of it. But I have never seen him so heartbroken, and if I’m being honest, I’m a little bitter towards you for doing this to him.”

I probably should have felt a little relieved that we weren’t definitely over, but until I heard it from Alex himself, I would never stop doubting it. I nodded and wiped the tear away before it fell from my jaw. “I understand.”

We stood in silence for a moment. I don’t think either of us knew what to say. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jack digging in one of the pockets of his cargo shorts. He pulled something out and held it in his hands for a moment before taking a few steps towards me. When I saw the little green velvet box he was holding out to me, my legs nearly gave in.

“This is for you,” he said quietly.

My heart was beating so loud and fast that I could hardly focus enough to make my hand grasp the box from him. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as I held it, afraid that if I opened it in front of Jack my reaction wouldn’t be good enough and it would make him more upset with me. Thankfully, he hoisted the two bags into his arms and left without a word.

I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. I had a very strong feeling I knew what was in the box, but I didn’t understand why Alex would be giving it to me now. Was it his way of saying he forgave me? Or was he trying to show me what else was fucked up by the situation? My gut just knew it was the latter.

I sat on the edge of the bed and took a few deep breaths before lifting the lid to the box. My free hand instinctively flew to my mouth to stifle the noise from my gasp that quickly turned into a sob.

The ring was beautiful. The band was white gold and sleek. A single princess cut diamond sat directly in the middle with immaculate clarity. It was easily a twenty-four-karat masterpiece, something Alex gravely insisted on the one time we actually talked about what kind of engagement ring I wanted. I just asked for something elegant and simple, and god, did he deliver.

I cried as I took the ring from the box and held it carefully between my thumb and index finger. My mind wandered to what it would have felt like had Alex been the one to give this to me on one knee in a romantic setting by his design. I thought about how happy we would have been in that moment, and how absolutely broken I felt in this one. I had to fight the urge to slide it onto my finger.

Then, I thought, maybe that was the point of him giving this to me now. Maybe he wanted me to feel horrible for ruining what was going to happen, whenever that was. Maybe he wanted me to feel like it was my fault that we were going through what we were. Maybe this was his way of placing the blame on me.

My sadness turned to slight rage and my eyes narrowed at the ring I was holding onto with my fingertips. I pushed it back into the box and slammed it shut, tossing it behind me towards my pillows.

Whether he liked it or not, he was going to have to share the blame for this, and it was pretty messed up that he tried to use something that represented euphoria against me in this time of dismay.

I crawled across the bed to my bedside table where my phone was still charging. I ripped the chord out and unlocked my phone, maneuvered to my text thread with Alex, and typed a new message.

Fuck you, Alex.

Notes