Chapter Eleven
Natalie
I was lying on my bed, trying to wrap my head around the story I was writing. I felt like I needed more drama and intrigue in it, but I was stuck as to how better to spice up the story. Ugh! I rolled over in bed, and considered heading to the kitchen to make some tea. Surely there had to be a better way to figure this out. Writing a story was so much harder than I thought, and I needed to consider the fact that it wasn't my calling. I could create magic when it came to photography or the visual arts, but put a blank piece of paper in front of me, and I was totally lost. I got up to go to the kitchen to make that tea. Maybe when I came back, my writer’s block would be over.
As I was about to leave my bedroom the phone rang. I stopped and turned around. I considered ignoring it and grabbing my tea, but I thought it might be just the welcome distraction that I needed. I snapped it up from my bed, and was stunned to see that it was Tom calling again. I stared shocked at the phone, unsure of what to do. I couldn't imagine what he wanted, and I was sure I didn't really want to find out. He had destroyed me for an eight-month span of time, and I had finally started to get a handle on my life again, only to have him start calling me now, the insensitive prick. Without knowing why I did it, I clicked on the call and said hello.
“Hey, Natalie ...”
And then there was silence. His voice?it had been so long since I heard his voice. I had forgotten just how much I liked his voice. It used to soothe me when I cried or had a bad day. It also stirred me when he used to whisper my name when we lay in bed together. All it would take was for him to touch my body and whisper my name, and I was undone. Now here he was again, saying my name as if nothing had changed, as if he hadn't torn my heart in two.
“Tom, why are you calling me?”
There was a pause before he said, “I don't know. I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Why would you care?”
“Natalie, come on.”
I felt tears well up in my eyes. “No, really, Tom, why would you give a shit at all?”
“Just because we aren't together it doesn't mean I never cared about you. We were together for years.”
“That didn't stop you from fucking my best friend, though, did it?”
He sighed deeply on his end. “I'm sorry, Natalie, you have no idea. I never wanted to hurt you; things just spun out of control. I never meant for you to find out that way.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks as my mind raced.
“Natalie, I miss you.”
Oh, fuck.
“Oh, are things not working out with Lisa?”
“Lisa and I are fine. But things are confusing. There are times I wonder if I made the right decision, especially since I still miss you after all this time.”
“You son of a bitch.”
“Natalie, since when do you talk like that?”
I snorted. “Since you and my best friend fucked me over. How dare you tell me you miss me. I was ready and willing to spend my entire life with you. And all the while you were sleeping with someone else, behind my back. It just makes me sick. Why are you calling me? What the hell do you want?”
“I told you, Natalie, I just wanted to see if you were okay. We never talked after the incident; you were so upset. I felt terrible, and I regret all the pain I must have caused you.”
“The incident? You had my best friend bent over our couch. The same couch we used to sit and watch movies on. You made love to me on that same couch, and you tainted it with her. Yeah, that was some incident.”
“Can you meet me sometime to talk?”
I hung up. I hung up before he could say another word. I did not want to hear sorry; I did not want feelings for him to come through again. I didn't want to believe he was sorry, or that he missed me. God, he missed me. What did that mean? Was he unhappy with Lisa now? Did he wish he was still with me? Man, I did not need thoughts like that traipsing through my brain; they were stupid. But I couldn't help wonder where I would be at that moment had we never broken up. Had he chosen me over Lisa, and ended things with her before I found out. Would we still be together? Would we have been happy? Would he have stayed loyal from that moment on?
I would never know, and now here he was, calling again and telling me he missed me, and there was a part of me that liked the fact that he missed me. That part was dangerous; I should not want him to miss me. But there was a small amount of satisfaction in the fact that I left him, and now he missed me. Did that mean he wanted me back? Was that why he wanted to get together?to ask me if we could try again?
I wiped away the tears from my eyes, and headed out of my bedroom. I needed to get out of the house. I would not be making tea and working on my story. I was getting out and getting drunk. Julie was in the kitchen when I marched in and opened the fridge. I grabbed a beer and cracked the top, taking a long pull on it.
“Uhhh, is everything okay? I thought you were staying in tonight, and working on schoolwork.”
I turned toward her and set my beer down on