Irresistible Desire (A Savannah Novel) Page 7
As I step out into the hallway I am grateful to see the lustful couple from earlier have departed. I look around but there is only a bellhop, everyone is back in the ballroom, drinking, dancing and mingling without a care in the world. I stand in the entrance of the place Logan and I first met, where he proposed to me and then betrayed me and now the place our relationship ended. Forever. Who knew one building could hold so many good and bad memories at the same time?
When I arrive home I’m relieved to notice that Brooklyn is still out partying. I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now, all I want to do is curl up into a ball and disappear. Today went from being the most amazing day of my life, to the worst, in a matter of a few hours. How could I be so completely and utterly stupid, to not know that Logan was cheating on me? I don’t even want to know how many women there have been. Now all the odd behavior from tonight is starting to piece together and make complete sense. All the models from Logan’s agency giving me death glares, I can pretty much guess that he’s slept with every single one of them. Thank God we always use protection, who knows what kind of diseases any of them could have. I shiver just thinking about the possibilities.
That Cara girl did me a favor, at least I found out now and not after we were married or, heaven forbid, started a family. Would he have always been this way? Deceitful and unable to commit to monogamy. Did he plan on marrying me and continuing to have numerous affairs with all these women? Would he have always had the desire to have sexual relations with other women? I don’t understand if it’s just about sex, I was more than willing to have sex with him any time he wanted to.
He is the one who always seemed distant, only getting together during the week for lunch and only being together intimately on the weekends. Was it because he was sleeping with all these other women during the week, that he had no desire to be intimate with me? Had he kissed them passionately and made love to them, the way he did with me? My stomach is starting to knot up again and my lips begin to feel dirty. I wipe forcefully at them in an illogical attempt to rid myself of all Logan’s pain. Just thinking of all the women he has kissed alongside, it’s sickening. I jump up and run to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time. I throw up violently until my eyes throb, my throat burns and my stomach feels completely empty.
I quickly undress and toss my dress across the bathroom before turning on the shower so hot it was almost scalding. I needed to wash away the filth that I felt all over my body. The way Logan has made me feel, dirty, used and betrayed…I don’t know if I can ever get rid of this feeling. I stand under the water, scrubbing my body profusely until my skin is raw, then slowly slide to the floor of the bathtub as the water beats on my head. I could barely tell the difference between tears and water as they drizzle over my body and wash down the drain. I remain like this until the water turns cool.
I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, but toss and turn all night, unable to get the images of Logan and that woman out of my head.I can hear her laughs echoing in my head, tormenting me. I finally fall into a deep, dreamless sleep about six and wish never to wake up.
The front door closes, waking me up and I hear Brooklyn’s heels clinking across the living room floor. I hold my breath as I listen to her walk around the house and finally let the breath out when I her bedroom door closes. I look at my clock to see it’s almost noon - she must have stayed out all night. This works out well for me because she’ll sleep the entire day, giving me time to try and wrap my head around everything that happened last night. I don’t think I can handle talking to her right now. I grab my cell phone from my night stand and turn it on. I had turned it off in the cab last night as Logan was continuously calling and texting me. He was not giving up on reaching me, I discovered quickly. I had twenty text messages, twelve voice mails, numerous emails to my Facebook, twitter and my personal email inbox. I didn’t want to hear or read any of his excuses and apologies, so I delete everything without giving it a second thought.
I instantly regret turning my laptop on, as soon as my internet opens up I see the news headlines are filled with “breaking news” headlines announcing my engagement to Logan Sanders. Pictures from last night are plastered all over the internet, me looking so shocked, excited and in love. When I log into my Facebook, my notifications are flooded with wall posts of congratulations. The whole situation just went from bad to worse as I realize I’ll have to make a statement to the press about the engagement being called off. Nothing in my life can ever just be private! I slam my laptop closed and begin repeatedly punching my pillow, shoving my face into it I scream until my lungs ache.
“Screw you Logan Sanders! All your stupid sluts too,” I scream into the pillow and bang my fist repeatedly onto my mattress, trying my best to let out my frustrations without alerting Brooklyn, only a few feet away, “I hate you! I fucking hate you for doing this to me!” I continue to scream for a good five minutes until my throat was hoarse. I feel a small amount of relief wash over my body from releasing pent up frustrations, even if it wasn’t actually at Logan, to whom every word was intended.
I spend the rest of the afternoon sitting outside on our patio, drinking an entire bottle of wine. It was seven by the time Brooklyn comes strolling out, finding me drowning my sorrows. I’m just finishing my last glass of wine and feel thoroughly trashed, even more so than I did last night on six glasses of champagne.
“Brooklyn…I am sooo happy you are finally up, now I don’t have to drink alone.” I slur at her as I lay sprawled out on the outdoor lounge.
“What the hell happened to you? Did aliens come down and invade your brain Savannah?" You look utterly fucked-up right now,” Brooklyn blurts out as she runs over to where I’m sat and plops down at the foot of the lounge. “Why are you downing an entire bottle of wine? You never drink this much…EVER.” I see panic consuming her eyes as she stares into mine.
“Well if you insist on knowing, I got engaged to Los Angeles' biggest man whore last night,” I wave my wine glass around in front of me dramatically pointing towards the Los Angeles skyline that’s twinkling in the night sky in front of us. “My romantic night turned out to be…well, not so romantic…I guess you could say.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Savannah? What happened last night? What do you mean you’re now engaged to the Los Angeles’ biggest man whore? You have my head spinning, I need answers...now! No riddles Savannah, just spit it out already, you’re seriously scaring me!” She runs her fingers through her hair and looks like she’s about to pounce on me if I don’t tell her what’s going on as soon as possible.
I pull myself up on the lounge and fold my legs behind me; running my finger around the brim of my wine glass, I tell Brooklyn everything. It actually feels exhilarating to get everything out there in the open for her to hear. Having all this pain from last night bottled up inside was tearing me apart. No amount of wine could numb the pain I was going through. The man I had loved and planned on spending the rest of my life with, betrayed me, ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it repeatedly.
When everything is hanging in the air and Brooklyn has processed what happened, she just sits there in a daze in front of me. She closes her eyes and drops her chin to her chest, it’s rising and falling quickly and I know she’s trying to keep herself calm to be strong for me. I’m blessed to have her as my friend; I don’t even want to know what life would be like without her in it. It’s hard enough losing Logan but I think losing her would be unbearable. Finally after what feels like an eternity, she looks up at me with the most terrifying looking I’ve ever seen on her face before.
“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch. He thinks he can sleep with any little tramp that will spread her legs while he’s professing his love to you? What the fuck is wrong with him? Proposing to you last night in a room full of women he has had sex with, while he was with you? He is screwed up; he literally has to have mental issues! I’m going to go to his suite, chop his dick off and force fee
d it to him.”
“Brooklyn, I appreciate you wanting to seek revenge on Logan for this, but it is not worth our time or energy. I would love nothing more than to castrate him…believe me, I would, but it won’t help the pain go away. I want to forget he ever existed. It’s so hard because everything I do, everything I hear and see reminds me of him.” I can feel tears trickling down my face one after another and part of me can’t believe I have any tears left in me to cry.
Brooklyn reaches across the lounge and wraps me in her arms, petting my hair and crying into my neck. We sit there for almost half an hour, just holding each other and crying. I’m grateful to her for being here for me, listening to me vent and letting me get everything out of my system.
We talk the rest of the night, curled up on the couch, watching reality TV on-demand; it’s exactly what I need. We discuss what I’m going to do about the press and telling my parents. I’m terrified to tell my mom and dad, especially my dad. He’ll most definitely go all ‘southern’ on Logan’s ass, driving to his suite and shoving a twelve gage shot gun in his face and threatening to blow his head off his shoulders for breaking his little girl’s heart. The idea makes me smile and it’s the first time I’ve smiled since yesterday evening.
Brooklyn suggests I tell my parents and have their PR team handle the press, then I can just write a small statement saying the engagement has been called off and it’s a personal matter, which I do not wish to discuss. Giving the press any other information would just lead to them hunting down Logan and his models, meaning I would have to deal with seeing my personal life plastered all over gossip magazines for the world to see.
Logan tries contacting me every day for the entire week, trying to get me to agree to see him. He wouldn’t take a hint, he even came to our house and pounded at our door, begging for me to let him in and give him a chance to explain. Brooklyn took much joy in threatening to have his ass arrested for harassment if he tried to come here again. She was my rock right now, the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. I stay off my laptop because I can’t bear to read all the congratulatory emails I’ve been receiving from everyone, they were just another painful reminder of my betrayal.
I call my parents on Tuesday, following a voice mail from my mother that threatened to come to my house if I didn’t call her back. I guess Logan has shown up at theirs earlier today, pleading with my mother to talk some sense into me and let him try to fix things. I know for a fact he wouldn’t have told her the whole truth, if my mother knew for a second that he’d cheated on me, especially moments after proposing, he wouldn’t be breathing right now, let alone convincing her to call me on his behalf.
I tell her everything he had done, well, everything I gathered from what that Cara girl said in the hotel room, and from what I had witnessed Saturday night. I tell her about the phone calls, text messages and emails from him and how I had deleted them all without reading. I was finished with him and there was nothing he could say or do to change my mind. He made his bed and he can damn well lay in it and suffer for all I cared. I have no sympathy for him and the heartache he brought upon himself. She sat on the other end of the phone, not saying a word. She was speechless, something I had never before witnessed.
I repeatedly yell into the phone for her to say something and she does, “I’m so sorry, so, so sorry Savannah. I would have never pushed for you two to be together if I had known he was like this. He always seemed like a responsible, respectful, intelligent young man.” She sobs. I hate that she was hurt, Logan didn’t realize that he was not only hurting me but everyone around us.
“Mom, please don’t cry.” I beg her. It’s tearing me up inside hearing her cry for me. I sit on my bed and trace the zebra stripes on my comforter with my finger tip, trying something…anything to keep me from falling apart again, the last thing I want to do is shed more tears over him. I’m all cried out and my eyes feel like they need to be iced because they ache so much.
“I’m sorry honey, the last thing I want to do is upset you. Your father is pulling in from the meeting with our tour manager… we leave Thursday for NYC to kick off the new tour. Oh no, that’s in two days, I hate to leave you while you’re trying to deal with all of this.”
She continues to sob into the phone and I can hear her trying to calm her breathing to a regular rate. Tears begin to run down my cheeks, don’t cry… don’t cry, I plead over and over in my head as I squeeze my eyes shut. I mimic my mom’s deep breathing pattern, trying to calm myself down too.
“I have to go, are you going to be okay Savannah? I’ll talk to your father for you so you don’t have to rehash this all over again. I’ll call Juliette in the morning and have her prepare a statement to release to the press for you. I love you honey, if you need anything just call me.”
I can hear my father talking in the background, asking her why she was so upset. I quickly say goodbye and get off the phone. I’m grateful she would handle telling my father, I just want to forget this ever happened; explaining to people just reopens wounds I’m trying so hard to heal.
I take Monday and Tuesday off work, having explained everything to Eloise on Monday morning, she told me to take all the time I needed. Everything she needed me to work on she emailed to me. It was nice having the distraction to help keep my mind off Logan.
*****
Chapter 7
*****
My first, post break up day, back at work went smoothly, although I felt like I was just running through the motions on autopilot. I worked with Eloise on The Most Influential Man of 2012 issue. We had to organize photos, get the interviews edited and write them up the way she wanted. We were so busy that I didn’t even realize when it was time to head home. We had gotten a good chunk of the issue completed today, ahead of schedule, which made Eloise very pleased.
When I get home in the evening there’s a bouquet of flowers sitting on the marble counter top in the kitchen. It’s an exquisite posy of bright tulips, sun flowers, daisies, roses, and hot pink lilies. They remind me of springtime. I know they can’t be from Logan as Brooklyn would have tossed them in the trash before I got a chance to see. I’ve been receiving flowers from friends, family, co-workers, basically anyone my parents know or have known. Each bouquet comes with a similar note, explicating their deepest apologies for my break-up with Logan. I have a magnificent display throughout my apartment; it looks more like a florist than a home.
I finger the card, twirling it between my fingers as I walk outside and dip my feet into the warm water of our pool. It’s finally a warm, sunny day in Los Angeles, following days of rain. It felt like the universe had been crying right along with me. I slide the card out of the tiny envelope and am shocked when I read who sent it. The card reads:
To Savannah, I hope these flowers can bring a smile back to your angelic face. He is a fool to let you get away. My deepest condolences to you during this difficult time. - Kayden Knox
“Holy shit.” I mutter to myself as I stare down at the note. Kayden Knox sent me flowers and his condolences? I’ve only met the man once; I can’t fathom the idea that he actually cares about what I was going through right now. I guess compassion is another reason he won that number one spot.
I pace alongside the pool and stare i at the Hollywood sign in the distance, contemplating what to do. What would be the polite thing to do? Call and thank him? Email a quick thank you? I don’t have his contact info on hand… I could call Eloise and ask for it. I decide to head inside; I grab my laptop and head to the living room. Plopping myself down on the sofa, I pull up my twitter and search Kayden’s account. I’m not allowed to message him as we don’t follow each other, so I decide to chance it and send a thank you tweet, if he sees it…he sees it and if not, I’ll ask Eloise for his email tomorrow and thank him then.
I type quickly, @Kayden_Knox I received the flowers you sent, they’re beautiful. I just wanted to send you a quick thank you. Hopefully my, oh so original twitter alias, @SavannahLivingston, will make
it clear who’s sent the tweet. I scroll through his twitter images and tweets wondering how many girls this playboy has sent flowers to. He has photos of himself and friends on four-wheelers, plenty of him on the beach and in lush parks. He also has pictures of himself riding horses, reminding me of my childhood and making me miss my filly, Cheyanne, back in Nashville.
He has a ton of photos of friends, places he’s visited and random funny quote pictures but nothing of him with other women. Of course it makes sense because he doesn’t “do relationships”. I finally understand why now, relationships just make you vulnerable and open you up for heartbreak and disappointment. This I’ve learned the hard way. I wonder if he has too… is that why he is the way he is now? My own heartbreak has helped me view things from another perspective.