Page 36 of One Drink

“I won’t take up much of your time.” The look on Jake’s face caused me to take a step back. His eyes were cold, and his lips were pinched into a tight line. I’d never seen him look so ... distant. This wasn’t my Jake. My Jake. Jake was kind, happy, and always had a glimmer of hope in his eyes. What have I done to him? He handed me a piece of paper. “I needed to give this to you and explain my position.”

The formality in his tone sent a tremor throughout my body and my hands started to shake. I clenched my fingers into fists, attempting to hide the effect his words had on me. I held my eyes on him, but he refused to make eye contact. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me or upset with me. Either way, Zoe was right. I fucked up. I stretched my fingers out and inhaled before taking the paper from him. “What is this?”

“Read it.”

I scanned the piece of paper, my eyes widening as I read each line. “You’re resigning?”

“Yes.” The icy edge to his tone sent a chill down my spine.

“But you can’t. I need you.”

He winced, and the coldness I saw in his eyes turned to sorrow. “No, you don’t. Not there. Not anymore.”

I turned my back to him to hide the panic building inside me. I’d been such a fool, letting my father get to me like that. The pre-dinner conversation created so much anxiety in me, and as soon as I found out my parents would be there, I’d been expecting my father to do something like that. When I heard Jake’s response to Dad, I assumed the worst. “I’m sorry about last night. I lost my temper. I was mad, but this isn’t what I want.”

“Then tell me, Steph.” His voice cracked. Every ounce of his pain came out in each syllable. “What do you want?”

“I ... I just need ...” I spun around to face him, my eyes tearing up again. I needed him to know how much I needed him. “Jake, I don’t want you to quit.”

He shook his head and stepped closer to me. “It’s time for me to move on and focus on my career. I did what I set out to do with the magazine, and now it’s time to go.”

“But—”

“No buts, Stephanie.” His jaw was set, and he spoke in a steady, low voice. “I’m going to focus on my writing now. I’m giving you two weeks so I can train my replacement, and then I’m leaving to work on my novel.”

His resolve was firm. I could tell by the determined look in his eyes; his mind was made up. It wouldn’t matter what I said at this point, he was quitting. And that hurt. “I understand.”

“Do you?” A hint of anger flashed in his eyes. “Do you really understand why I was there? Why I’ve been here by your side for ten years? Or why I’m leaving now? Because I don’t think you do.”

“Jake, please. I can’t do this.”

“You can’t do this?” He raised his voice, then stopped. Taking a couple steps back, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. His shoulders dropped, and he gave me a long-pained look before glancing away. “Ever since the day your father showed up on campus and demanded you come home, I promised myself I’d help you prove him wrong. When I saw the fire in your eyes—the passion burning inside you when you stood up to him—I was done for.”

I gasped. “You remember that day?” I sure as hell did. I remembered every time my father embarrassed me and made me feel like shit for wanting this life for myself. It was a constant pain that haunted my every waking moment. No matter how great my successes were, my father would never see my happiness. That truth had scarred me.

“How could I forget it?” His voice cracked, and his eyes were glassy with tears. “It’s the day I knew I loved you.”

His admission cut through me. My throat tightened, and it felt like my heart was trying to pump molasses through my body. To learn that it was that day that led to his love for me, made my behavior last night that much worse. Jake defended me against my father that day on campus and he’d defended me every day since then. I was such a fool to not see that he was probably defending me again last night.

“I’ve loved you for ten years,” he said. “And for ten years, I’ve waited for you to see me. To really see me, and the love I have for you.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Because I couldn’t say the words I needed to say. They were foreign to me and saying them out loud scared the hell out of me.

“I can’t come to work every day knowing that I can’t hold you or kiss you. I need to be able to help you, to be there for you in a much more intimate way than our friendship. Seeing you every day and not being able to love you and to have you love me back is torture. And I can’t do it anymore.”

Silence fell heavy around me. My tears blurred my vision, and I squeezed my eyes closed. I knew what he was asking of me, and I didn’t know if I could give him what he wanted. I loved him, I did. But I didn’t know if I could show him the love he needed—the love he deserved—without letting my father’s voice seep into my mind and taint our relationship.

The sound of his footsteps echoed through my mind, and the click of the door handle caused my eyes to fly open. The tears I fought so hard to hold back ran down my cheeks as he stood by the door ready to leave. Our eyes locked, and he hesitated, waiting for me to do something, say anything. But what could I say that wouldn’t break his heart even more than I already had? I could beg him not to resign, or refuse to accept it, or ... or ... what? He didn’t care about the job. He cared about me. I knew what I needed to say but the words wouldn’t come.

With a heavy sigh, he turned to leave.

“Wait,” I called out.

He stopped, but he didn’t turn around to face me. His head hung, and despite his slumped shoulders, I could see the tension he held in. It was now or never. If I didn’t tell him how I felt, he’d leave, and I could lose him forever.

“What is it, Stephanie?” His voice was stiff, and the sense of detachment I felt from this one question pushed me over the edge.

I hunched over, and choked back a sob. “I don’t know how to do this.”