Chapter Twenty-Five - I Wish He Would Stop Caring

Chapter Twenty-Five - I Wish He Would Stop Caring
Peyton

I'm alone in my apartment because Max is away on a business trip. He wanted me to join him, but I declined. Our relationship is still fine—no issues since the wedding. We've argued a few times, but nothing serious. Honestly, I’m glad he's gone, which isn’t a positive feeling and probably isn't healthy for us. He's gone for three days, and I doubt I'll even miss him. Likewise, he probably won’t miss me. 

I'm relaxing with a movie, a glass of wine, and popcorn, feeling peaceful after several stressful days at work and a difficult month. Max doesn't know about my night with Gabe, and I don’t plan to tell him. Honestly, Gabe has been on my mind constantly. I’ll be heading to bed soon; it's not late, but I'm exhausted and need to be up at six tomorrow. I only have tomorrow left, then I’ll be off for a couple of days, which I’m really looking forward to. I plan to visit Kaitlyn and Anthony one day; I’ve only seen them once since the wedding. I’ve been avoiding that area to steer clear of Gabe, as I want to avoid him at all costs. 

The sound of my cell beeping grabs my attention. Glancing at the screen, I see a text from a number I haven’t saved in my contacts, which is odd. I pick it up and open the message. 

I know I am the last person you want to hear from, but here I am. I didn’t call because I knew you would hang up. Are you okay? Why are you back with him? You shouldn’t be. You deserve better. I am here if you need me, Peyton, no matter what time of day or night – Gabe xx

My eyes stay fixated on the screen, reading it repeatedly. I am going to kill Kaitlyn or Anthony, depending on who gave him my number. They are the only ones who could have done so. I don’t know what to do now. I should delete it and forget it happened, but a part of me wants to reply. I wish he would stop caring about me. It would make life so much easier. 

Gabe, why are you texting me? Who gave you my number?

I hesitated briefly, then sent it. It might not have been the best decision, but I can’t take it back now. 

I wanted to make sure you were okay. It doesn’t matter who gave it to me. Why would you get back with him after what happened at the wedding? I don’t mean between us; I mean what he did to you. xx

I sigh and put my cell down, deciding not to reply again. I can’t. I know he's right. They're all right. Making that choice was foolish, but I did it anyway. I groan and walk to get another glass of wine and a tub of chocolate ice cream, adding chocolate sauce and M&M’s before returning to the living room. I pick up my cell again to read the message. God, why did he have to reach out now? It was hard enough trying to get out of my head, never mind this. 

As I look at it, it begins to ring from the same number Gabe used to text me. Why is he calling? Did ignoring his message not make it clear? I do the opposite of what I should and end up answering. 

“Gabe, why are you calling?” 

“Peyton,” he says softly, his voice full of relief that I answered. 

“You should be calling me, Gabe.” 

“I know, but I needed to hear your voice. I need to know you are okay. Not a single day since the wedding has passed without you being on my mind.” 

My breath tightens in my throat, and my heart pounds faster with his words. He's always been incredibly smooth and a bit cheesy, but somehow, it works. 

“Gabe, stop, please. You should forget about me.” My words come out as a stutter, which is not what I intended. 

“You know that is never going to happen, Peyton. End things with him, please? I beg you. You shouldn’t be with a man who treats you that way.” 

“Gabe, stop. I can’t deal with this. It’s too much. You’re too much. My life and relationship are none of your business.” 

“Peyton, don’t shut me out,” he pleads. 

“I can’t do this, Gabe. Goodbye.” I immediately hang up without saying another word. 

I should block the number, but I won’t. I put it off for the rest of the night. I will set the alarm on my clock for work. Tossing my cell aside, I dig into my ice cream, shovelling it into my mouth. I don’t even enjoy my ice cream, which never happens. It frustrates me more. I down my glass of wine, taking everything back to the kitchen. The best place for me to be is in bed. If I am asleep, then I can’t think. I can’t get lost in my thoughts about Gabe. 

I head to my room and climb straight into bed, setting my alarm for the morning. I try to get comfortable, but it doesn’t work. I toss and turn before giving in and sitting up, switching on the lamp. I reach into my drawer, take the lockbox out, and put the code in to open it. Everything in this box is about Gabe and me. Photos of us together, things from our dates, letters he wrote me. It is only some of our memories. I have a box full in my closet. It is pathetic. I should never have kept them, but I could never manage to throw them away, no matter how hard I tried. He was such a huge part of my life for so long. I couldn’t just throw it away, even if he deserved it. I had some of the best times of my life with him. I wish they had never ended, but they did, and we can’t change that. 

I take a photo of a time when we weren’t together for long, and even after such a short time, he looks at me as if I were the most beautiful thing in the world, his eyes filled with love. Tears brim in my eyes, but I wipe them away and quickly put everything away again because they only make me feel worse. I don’t need things to be any worse. I settle back down, letting the tears fall. Maybe letting them out will help, or I will cry myself to sleep. This was not how my night was supposed to end!