The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

With shaking fingers, I stare at the folded paper in my hand. The envelope discarded, now lying on the bed with his neat scroll on the front. I take an eternity to run my fingers across the neat lettering, pain shooting through me from every angle. I inhale deeply, steadying my nerves, unfolding the thick cream paper, and biting my lip. I drag courage from somewhere, telling myself I should dive in and do it.

Emma,

I’m sorry, Bambino, so extremely sorry. I don’t even know what writing to you will achieve, but I had to do something. I saw them packing up every piece of you, and I had to stop myself from tearing it out of their hands and holding onto it all. I can’t bear it. I feel like everything they remove is a slash across my heart.

I know I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll do anything to have it, anything to get you back. I made a stupid mistake, wasn’t thinking clearly, and wanted to lash out at everyone.

I’ll never hurt you again, I swear. Just give me a chance to

fight for you. I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me again.

I hurt the one person I love and need more than anything in the world.

I won’t ever make that mistake again. Being here without you is torture, so unbearable I can’t breathe. I can’t get you out of my head or how you looked at me when I told you what I’d done. It was like a knife being thrust deep into my chest and turned; I know what I’ve done. You don’t need to punish me, baby, nothing is as bad as this, and no punishment could come close to the pain I’m in without you. I’ve never felt regret like this before and never intend to earn it again.

Please. Talk to me. I just want to see you, look at you, and have you near.

I’m slowly going insane without you, baby. I need you. I love you, and I can’t, won’t lose you. I’ll fix this.

Just give me a chance.

Jake x

Tears roll down my cheeks, dripping onto the paper, and I watch in agony as some of the ink from his signed name bleeds across the surface. I watch in dismay as his name becomes a blur of stained grey and throw the letter on the bed as though it’s burned me.

It hurts more than I thought it would, reading something he wrote for me, connecting to him in some small way. It hurts because I miss him so damn much, and I’m dying of pain. Everything he wrote makes me ache, and I want to see him more. I’m so confused, in turmoil about what to do. His words have cut me to the core with longing and anger, so much love from one man. Yet he’s capable of cutting out my heart in one selfish, childish act. I want him right here with me, but my mind wants to punish him by staying away.

I pull my phone out of the bedside drawer and switch it back on. After his third text, I turned it off days ago, unable to cope anymore, hoping to find relief in the silence. I needed a break to be alone and process things. It bursts back into life, and I try to steady the inner wave of tears and fear waiting to drown me. I need to do this if I desire to move forward. I need to see what he wants to say and decide where I go from there. Sarah is right. I can’t dwell on hoping I’ll wake up fine tomorrow and forget all about it. The only way to sort this out is to face it head-on and start taking steps to either fix us or forget him.

When my phone is fully caught up, I flick to my texts from him, opening the oldest one unread in the row on display.

I love you, and I miss you xx I’m sorry, baby. J

I bite my lip and quell the new onslaught of tears, moving to the next text quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid fast, trying to avoid the overemotional response to each one.

I wish you would just say something, anything. Even if it’s to just yell at me and tell me you hate me. Silence is torture. Xxx J

My hands tremble as I trace the words on my screen. My heart is aching for him like a pathetic idiot. My fingers hover on the kisses longingly for a moment before I shake myself out of it. I notice under the third message is one more; a new one received when my phone was off, updating now.

Tell me what to do. What you need from me? Talk to me. Please. Xxx J

Another punch in the gut and another tear to my collection, I sigh, biting back the tremble on my bottom lip, and push the next one open.

I can’t do this; I will end up banging down your door just to see you. Please, Emma. Reply or something. I got every bunch of flowers, every piece of jewelry, and every gift sent back to me. Emails ignored; texts ignored. You’re not giving me any choice but to show up and fight for you, baby. I love you too damn much to let this go, and I’m going crazy with this silence. We had so much, too much, to let it end this way. Xxx J

My breath catches in my throat at the last one, a mix of heartbreak and something else, a tingle of something I can’t even pinpoint. I should be angry with the way he’s texted me, but strangely, I’m not. He should be groveling at my feet for my forgiveness.

This is the Jake I need to see. The one who ignores all and comes pounding after me regardless. The Jake who came after me to Chicago despite me saying no. The Jake who always pursues me because he can’t help being the dominant one.

Do I want Jake to show up and break down my door just to see me? Prove to me he will fight for me?

Maybe I do. Perhaps it’s partly what I need from him - that instinctual way he cuts through everything, to come for me regardless of protest.

I shake the thought aside and quickly open my email app, logging into my personal account. Before I can linger on my confusing thoughts, there are two.

Jake Carrero has sent you an iTunes song.

Jake Carrero has sent you Beyoncé–Halo.

Attached message – I never had a way to resist letting you in. You’re my angel baby. The light in my world, the reason I want to be better, you’re in everything I look at. You’re always around me even when you’re not here. You’re the voice in my head that tells me to be a better man. I waited a lifetime to find you and will not lose you now. I need to know what you’re feeling and thinking. I won’t just lose you without a fight. Talk to me, Emma, Please. Xx J.

The use of our old mode of communication hits me like a punch to the heart, painful yet not. Memories of how sweet he can be, attentive, funny, and loving. It confuses me more, and despite myself, I press play on the song as I agonize over his sweet words.

Listening to it almost breaks me. More tears and more internal assault as I imagine Jake saying every single word to me. I can’t stop the ache of longing or the insane depths to which I miss him. Each lyric clawing at me reminds me of all the good in him and how he shows me love and always expresses his devotion without hesitation. It hurts so much.

When the song ends, it lingers in my head for a while before I have the strength to read his last email. Thoughts of his touch, his kiss, his heart like bittersweet torture.

I tried your cell and got your answering machine a dozen times. I hate that you don’t want to talk to me. Just tell me what to do, baby … Please. I’m literally on my knees begging here. Xxxx J

I have no clue in which order the emails and texts were sent. My head is too frazzled to care. The point is I’ve done it. I’ve read them, despite the emotional turmoil, the tears, and the ache to see him, and yet, I’m still breathing.

The salty warm tears are pouring down my face, and I slump back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, my head a whirling mass of crazy emotions and thoughts.

I don’t know what to say to him or what I need from him. I’ve never been here before, dealt with this kind of heartache, or been in a situation where I’ve freely given my trust away only to have it wrenched apart like a worthless rag. The thought of never seeing him again destroys me, but the thought of him brings a full vision of his mouth on hers that tortures me. I’m so stuck between two excruciating realities I can’t breathe.