“What’s your problem, River? Seriously. I’m on a date with a nice guy—who didn’t impregnate someone and not tell me about it.” I feel the sting of my words before they’ve even left my lips.
River frowns, his lips drawn into a thin line on his face. “Real nice, Ava.” Sighing, he says, “I just want to talk to you. I’ve been trying to, fucking relentlessly, for weeks. You won’t give me the time of day. And I get you’re upset, I really do. And I don’t blame you at all, but I meant it when I said I wanted to give the two of us a real fucking shot. But you just gave up.” He crosses his arms again, leaning back onto the brick wall. “You just gave the fuck up on us.”
I’m buzzing, closer to drunk than not, and I don’t want to deal with this. I’m so sick of men hurting me and thinking they somehow have a right to do so, and I should just forgive them and make amends. I loved River. I loved him and he hurt me again and I haven’t held out this long just to fall back into his trap.
“River.” He’s looking out onto the street and I move in front of his path to lock eyes with him. I want to say a million things but I don’t, because I’m not doing this. “You fucked up.”
“I know I fucked up!” He launches himself off the wall and his face is so close to mine I can feel his breath—hot and sad, with tequila still dancing on his tongue. “But how can I make anything better if you’re just going to ignore me. Because now you’re fucking up too! I love you and you’re going to lose that. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jackie’s pregnancy, but it isn’t like I fucked her while I was with you. I told you that I was with her, that it didn’t work out, and that’s the fucking truth. I didn’t find out about the pregnancy until the day after you confronted me about her calling my phone in the morning. Bet you can guess why she kept calling, now, huh?”
He brings both hands to his head and hunches over, heaving. “I tried to tell you the night of my show. I couldn’t help that Jackie came and bombarded you before I had the chance to tell you myself. And I’m so sorry for that, but I can’t change it. I’ve tried calling and texting you for weeks and you never once replied. You wouldn’t even hear me out. So why the hell am I the one standing here, begging you to talk to me again? He starts to walk away from me.
“River!” I call out, not wanting him to leave like this, my throat swelling, pain pricking at my chest with every breath. He keeps walking, but once he’s a good distance away and I’m just about to burst into tears, he turns around.
“Remember that I was the one who loved you, Ava. Always. It was always me.” He turns at that, and then walks out into the night.
In this moment, mascara running down my sweaty face, I realize he isn’t entirely wrong. He left me the first time, but he’d made attempts to reach out. He was following a dream and I was upset at him for it, in a way. When he came back into my life by chance at the bar, he wanted to pursue things and I never called him. And even now, despite everything, he’s been calling and texting and bringing me fucking bagels and I won’t even give him the time of day.
I never realized anything was bothering River. He never seemed off to me. And I guess that says more about me than it does him. I come to the gut-wrenching realization that I may have been standing in my own way this entire time, pushing him away because I was afraid of getting hurt.
And now look at me—a goddamn sobbing mess on a busy Chicago street, alone.
In my heart I know…I just lost River Jacobs for good.
Track Thirty-Six: I Miss You
by Incubus
AVA
Three weeks have passed since the night River and I saw each other. Three weeks. That’s twenty-one days, five-hundred and four hours, thirty thousand, two-hundred and forty minutes, and way too many seconds, and I have felt every single one of them tick by like a slow-motion car wreck I can’t escape.
When River and I went without talking before, it was purely out of my anger, my stubbornness. I still had glimpses of him, when he’d drop bagels off and I’d open the door to smell his lingering cologne. Or when he’d send me a text or leave me a voicemail. Now there’s nothing. No texts, no calls, no bagels. No River. It’s like he never existed in my life at all and just as quick as he showed up, he’s gone again.
Hailee’s been worrying about me. She and Oliver come over often to check in, asking me to hang out or go to dinner with them, but I always politely decline. The only good thing that has—once again—come out of this, has been my writing. I’ve written the entire first draft of another book. I finally got the bit of free rein that I’ve been begging for. It’s amazing what happens when your creativity is allowed to flow. Hooray for silver linings.
But the most pathetic part?
I made a fake Instagram account and followed him so I could still see what he was up to. If I can’t have him in my life, I can at least keep an eye on him and make sure he’s doing okay.
And doing okay is exactly how he’s been doing. He posts frequent updates about the baby. Jackie is looking increasingly pregnant, and also annoyingly beautiful. I don’t know if the two of them are together. If they are, her Facebook doesn’t list it, because believe me, I’ve stalked the shit out of that daily, too.
I check my phone for the first time all day, determined not to go on social media for at least a little bit. I need to stop obsessing over River and his life. A text from Chris is waiting for me, along with a text from an unknown number. No other notifications at all.
Chris: Hey, I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to get dinner tonight. We could go out or stay in, doesn’t matter. Just hoping to see you again. Maybe a do-over date?
He’s reached out to me a few times, even with the inside knowledge that I needed some space after what went down in front of Iconic that night. I know I’m not ready for a relationship of any kind but he was nice, and Oliver is great, so I know any friend of his would be a great friend to me as well.
Me: Want to come over? I can send you my address. I just want to be upfront that this would be more of a friend date right now, if that’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to, but I’d love to have company if you do.
Chris: Totally understand. I’d love to.
And with that, I send off my address and decide I should probably clean up my apartment a bit. I’m normally the clean type, but depression can suck the life right out of you and leave you not giving a shit about things you normally care about, so here we are.
I remember there’s another text message waiting for me and check it.
Unknown: Hi, is this Ava?
Me: Hi, yes. I don’t have you saved in my phone. Who is this?
It takes almost twenty minutes for a response, time I use to tidy up and put myself together just a little, at the very least. When the next text comes through, I’m wishing I hadn’t said yes to a friend date with Chris. I just don’t feel up to seeing people.
Unknown: Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t. lol This is Jackie Marshall. Please don’t disregard this message, I really need to speak with you.
Of course. Jackie fucking Marshall is coming back into my life to kick me while I’m down.