Change of Heart

Chapter 9

I slowly make my way back the living room, sitting down in the same spot I woke up in. Somehow, it felt comfortable and familiar. Unlocking my phone, I open the first message.

'I am so sorry Jase, please know I never intentionally wanted to hurt you. Please come home.'

I scroll down, scanning quickly through each one. Mostly the same stuff over and over. In the last one, she tells me she has taken the twins to her parent's house, and when I want to speak to her, she will be there. I toss my phone aside and as I do, Mango trots over and flops on the couch beside me. It is an odd feeling, as I'm not usually fond of dogs, but this one has taken a liking to me. I start patting his head and he closes his eyes—I guess he likes it.

"Am I interrupting something?" Calvin startles me from behind the couch. I didn't even hear him approaching. He sits down on the other side of mango. "Look at you, getting spoilt," he says, in a voice that people use when talking to small children. 'Spoilt', this dog gets treated like a prince.

Calvin's damp hair is clinging to his forehead. It's the first it hasn't been perfectly styled. It's strange seeing him in his comfort zone, makes him look more like a regular Joe . This is instead of the obvious extremely wealthy man he is.

"I wanted to thank you again, for today. I'm sorry if I imposed or anything like that." I tell him. It's hard, but I try to gauge his reaction. He has been extremely inviting and I want to make sure I'm not inconveniencing him.

"You're welcome here any time." His words are genuine and caring, a friend like him is what I need right now. "Do you know what you're going to do?" he asks.

This is the question I have been afraid to answer myself. I take a minute to roll it over. Bianca and I will have to talk and that's going to be very difficult. How do I even prepare for something like that?

"Bianca's at her parents with the kids. So, for now I will go home and take it from there." I tell him, as well as convince myself that's what I should do. His face tenses, but I don't know why.

"I can take you home, if you like?" he offers, after a short pause. The question takes me by surprise, after sitting in silence I thought him to be disapproving of me returning home.

"Thank you very much for the offer, but I think I will drive," I tell him, feeling rude rejecting him. The drive home might help clear my head. I feel as though I have been enough of a burden for one day. He smiles and offers to walk me to my car, which I accept. I scan the room for my keys and realize they are still in my pocket. I ruff mangos fur and say bye, he yawns, shifts position, and resumes his nap.

As we go to exit, Calvin stops and pulls open a closet that's beside the elevator door. He reaches in and removes a black, leather jacket and hands it to me.

"Take it, in case you get cold." His strong gaze tells me that he's concerned.

I smile, "thanks." It's very sweet that he cares. The elevator ride and walk back to the car is silent, not uncomfortable, just silent.

"If there's anything you need, you can call me, anytime. Day or night, I'll answer." He hands me small, white card, with his home and mobile number perfectly written in dark blue ink. I want to hug him, to show how grateful I am for everything he has done, but I don't know if it would be appropriate or not. After thanking him again, I get in the car, start the engine, and drive off. I look back in the rearview mirror to see him standing there, watching as my car pulls away.

The drive home seems to take a long time. Maybe it's me wanting to avoid confronting the emptiness. As much as I want to keep circling the streets, I roll into the driveway. I glace up and cringe; the house looks lifeless. All the windows are laced in darkness. I sit for a few minutes. This has been the one place I have always felt safe and secure at. Even all the fights and troubled times, I have never not wanted to come home.

There is no point delaying anymore. I must face the inevitable. I proceed inside and switch on the light. I scan the room, and everything is spotless and in its place. Even the dining room is back to normal from my decorations. I guess I should thank her for that. Facing the failed anniversary would have... I shut off the rest of the thought. The front door closes slowly behind me with a creak. I head for the shower, pausing at the foot of the stairs. After a deep breath in, I force myself to ascend.

The walk past the kid's rooms makes me miss them like crazy. I check my watch and it is almost 10pm. I plan to call them first thing in the morning.

The bedroom door is closed. I rest my hand on the handle for a brief moment sigh before pushing it open. There're so many memories crammed into this space. Some good and some, well, not so much. I walk over to the bed and sit on the end, looking over at Bianca's side and it hits me—there's a very real chance I'll never wake up beside her again.

The one thing I've always felt I could never forgive, is the one thing she did. My mind drifts over the last week. Everything seemed to be turning around. We had that amazing weekend, and we were talking again about things that we hadn't even spoke of in years. The other night we were up till late laughing, we were re-connecting. We made love. I repeat the words over again in my head, made love... she was with him and then with him. I launch off the bed—I can't be in here. Brushing the tear that forms, I go to the closet and grab an assortment of clothes, including a suit that's on a hanger. With everything going on, I still have work Monday morning. It will probably help distract me anyway.

Descending the stairs, I go straight to the downstairs bathroom. It is not used much, mainly for guests and visitors. The image in the mirror is haunting and I resist the urge to punch the glass over and over. Frustrated, I pull myself away. Without undressing I turn the shower on, climb in and stand under the water, allowing the warmth to consume me. I lean back against the tiles, still able to feel their icy sting through my damp clothes. I find myself sinking down as my legs are unable to support my body anymore.

I lower my head between my knees. With the water running over my face, it takes me a moment to realize tears are streaming down my cheeks. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I let myself fall apart.

What can I do to numb the ache? The pain is ripping me apart, and it won't stop. I have never felt this kind of hurt or experienced anything like this. How do I cope? I want to scream out loud. Yell, punch, kick. This is going to be hell.

The sudden change of the water temperature makes me jolt and I scramble to my feet. The hot water must've run out. Fumbling with the taps, I manage to shut the water off. After removing the drenched clothing and soggy socks, I dry off and wrap the towel around my waist. I take all my things and leave the bathroom to head down the hall.

My study is the only space that's completely mine. I toss the pile of clothes I got from the bedroom onto my desk chair and hang the suit on top of the door. Searching through the pile, I pull on a pair of old comfy sweats and a loose baggy shirt. At the bottom, underneath everything, is Calvin's jacket. I don't recall grabbing it from the car. It looks really expensive so I'll have to get it back to him. Mindlessly, I pull it over my arms and shiver from the lingering effects of the cold blast. The scent of warm vanilla causes a flash back to all the encounters I have had with him. I fall back onto the sofa and take comfort in the warmth the jacket provides my body.

I need to decide what I'm going to do. I know that I must speak with Bianca as we need to figure out what to do from here. I can't stay in the same house as her, I just can't. I will have to get my own place, somewhere the kids can come visit. I rub my face and breathe out harder than necessary. There's just too much that's going to change. Divorce? I cringe at the word. It's too soon to be thinking about that.

I slide my hand into the jacket pockets, even though it is warm inside, I feel cold, chilled. I'm guessing being doused with icy water doesn't help. I lay my head back and stare at the ceiling. Closing my eyes my brain goes into overdrive. It starts replaying all the events over and over, like they are stuck on a continuous loop. I shake it off and reach to grab my iPod from the nearby table, maybe some music will help distract me, anything to ease the painful thoughts. I hit the shuffle button and the first song that pops up on the screen makes everything 10 times worse. It's a song about a heart breaking from my favorite band. The lyrics talk about how heartbreak is uneven, and I let the tears flow down my cheeks unrelenting. I lie down and keep listening on repeat. Sometimes facing what is wrong head on is the best approach.