I'm lying in a heap on the bed, numb from endless sobbing and wracking pain. I don't know how long I've been lying, listening to my blood rush through my head as my heart self-implodes inside my body. I'm nothing but a shell. A quiet, empty shell of exhaustion and heartache rumpled beyond recognition.

I lashed out, hit at him, and shoved him away with every ounce of strength I possessed, yet still, he tried to cling to me.

My Jake, my body and soul. Now the destroyer of everything that I was.

I told him not to touch me, never to touch me again. To leave and to go away. I screamed and cried and fell to pieces on the floor at his feet. His words tumbled around me like noise that I couldn't understand, so consumed by my grief.

It's only when I whimpered and begged that he leave me alone that he finally listened, moving away so I could find my way to my feet, running into the solitude of this room … our room. His room. Shutting him out and locking him away. I can't bear for him to be near me, touch me, or look at me anymore.

What we are is lost; his betrayal sealed our fate, and my world has been ripped apart with such devastation. I don't think I'll ever be the same again. All I can think about is his mouth against hers, over and over, and it rips through my heart. Kissing the mouth of the one woman in the world I hate beyond compare. He does not know the depth and damage cheating with her has done. He has no idea how deeply his betrayal has wounded me.

He kissed someone else. Not just anyone else but her. The object of all my hatred and pain for the last few months.

The woman who possessed his heart once upon a time. The only other woman who has been loved by him and now carries his child.

Marissa Hartley.

How can I ever get beyond this or believe his feelings for her are as clear-cut as I thought?

Her name is like a dagger in my chest, a wound so unbearable, burning, and searing, ensuring I never recover from the fatal blow.

Why, Jake? … Why? Because you were so sure of my readiness to betray you? Fueled by insecurity because of my refusal to start a home with you or answer your proposal?

Fueled by my stupidity in making you believe I would betray you so readily over a fight.

Were we so fragile that something this stupid has ripped us in two?

There's a light chap on the door. My breath halts and my pulse stops. His closeness still affects me. Even at a distance, my body feels him in the air and trembles.

"Emma?" Jake's voice, hoarse and raw, causes sharp pain in my chest. I slide onto my side to blot him out, covering my ears, curling into a ball with a fresh wave of the unbearable aching inside me, silent tears pouring down my face. I just want this pain to stop devouring me.

"Emma, please? … Let me in." He pleads, his voice as far away from my Jake as it could possibly be, different from how he normally sounds, crushing my soul. I'm so far away from myself that I fear I'll never find my way back. I close my eyes tight, screwing them hard, willing him to leave. My voice wouldn't come even if I wanted it to. It's so raw and painful, making it too hard to swallow, aftereffects of the wailing of a desperate woman.

There's a gentle thud against the door. It creaks with the pressure of human weight, a noise of something heavy and soft sliding down the other side slowly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Neonata. I'm staying right here until you let me see you. I need to see you, Emma … I'm going insane out here." The sadness in his tone makes me ache. He sounds as broken as I feel. His normally low husky tone is strained and hoarse, emotion breaking with every agonizing word.

He left me until I became quiet, but I couldn't lock him out forever. This is his apartment … his home. Not mine anymore. I need to get up, take everything I own, and leave him; he's left me no choice but to go. There's nothing here for us anymore.

Fresh waves of devastation hit me, causing me to break the silence with a sob. I can't begin to think about leaving him, not yet, not while my body wants to lie here and die. The pain is so all-encompassing I can barely breathe.

"Please … Please, Bambina. It's killing me staying out here listening to you cry. Let me in. Let me hold you." His voice breaks, the pain too much. I imagine him slumping against the door, his knees up and arms around his shoulders, maybe cradling his head, as broken and crumpled as me. I try to shake his image from my mind, tears consuming me; the thought hurts me more than I can imagine. I can't bear for him to be as broken as me, aching in agony outside his own door.

I'm drowning in confusion. I can't endure the pain of letting him close. The thought of his touch brings the flash of a vision into my head of him and her - him touching her, focusing on her eyes, kissing her. It slices through me like a hot poker and tortures me to my core.

What has he done to us?

"I … I … I can't." My voice is weak and fragile, a ghost of the normal tone I usually possess. I breathe through tears, unsure if I'm loud enough for him to hear me.

"Emma, I won't touch you. I swear. I'll keep my distance. I just need to see you … look at you." He begs. He shifts toward the door to strain for my response, which shatters me all the more.

I don't like him this way. He's my strong, domineering Carrero, always so sure and infuriatingly confident, in control of everything.

I can't bear this sad, quiet version of him begging me, sitting slumped outside, and seeking permission to enter a room in his apartment.

This is not Jake. I want my Jake back. I want the Jake from a week ago, the one who never betrayed me and left me this way. The Jake who would move mountains to protect me, not this man sitting out there who is so far removed from the one I thought I knew.

"I can't. I can't get up." it's true. I don't have the strength to walk to the door. My body's broken. I cry quietly, tears falling freely beyond my control. I can barely lift my head, so drained of life I am beyond the point of moving. Fatigue is wracking every limb with emotional exhaustion. I don't know what time it is, but it feels like I've been here for days.

"Just tell me I can open the door, and I will," his voice is strained. He's waiting and hoping I won't hold him out while still seeking my permission.

I can't keep him out as much as I desperately want to. He's the one causing me paralyzing agony but is also the only person in the world with a hope of helping me. That's my torture. My healer is also my tormentor. When all I can feel is devastation, my heart aches, calling out for the one person who always grounds me and makes me feel secure.

"It's your house," I crumble, not deciding for him. I flinch moments later, clenching my body in surprise, as he kicks the door open with effortless force. The wood splintering and metal sheering violently; light flooded from the other room, showing his strong masculine figure silhouetted in the frame.

I curl into myself tighter, as I did when I was a child, covering my face with my arms and instinctively defending my body. The pain of him being near me is more excruciating than anything I've ever endured. I hear him moving closer. The bed dips as he slides on, keeping his distance. He sighs heavily. I can feel every ounce of strong energy radiating from him, despairing and remorseful, surging with as much heartache as I am.

"I love you, baby … I can fix this. I want to fix this. I want you so badly that this … What I've done … It's killing me. It's ripping me apart that I've hurt and lost you." His voice aches and trembles, and the urge to turn and wrap myself into his safe arms overwhelms me, but I know I won't find the relief I desperately desire. His touch will only cause more devastation to my heart.

Marissa, with her nasty snarl and wicked eyes, is running through my head, smirking at me, cackling at me. I can almost sense her satisfaction coursing through me. She's won. She's taken him from me in the worst way.

"I don't know if I can come back from this … I need time to breathe, time to think," I whisper, afraid that saying it louder will be more crushing to my soul.

"I don't want you to leave." He croaks as he tries to see my face in the gloom of the dim light, leaning closer so I can feel his body heat hovering over mine. He's caging me in without touching me, and I hold my breath.

"I can't stay." I curl up tighter, hiding what I am from the man I love most in the world, the one person who changed everything in my life for the better. Yet destroyed it all in the same gentle stroke.

"I'll do anything, whatever you ask, Emma … Just please, don't leave me," his voice is softer, almost breathless. He sniffs, and I know he has tears on his cheek. It kills me inside, despite what he's done, I don't want him to be hurting. I've never seen Jake cry over anything before this, and I don't want to see it now. I can't bare it.

"I need to go. I need time away from you … It hurts too much having you near me. I don't know if I can forgive you while everything is so raw and fresh. I need space and time to think." My words are empty, as though from another person. I wish I had conviction in my request, but I sound pathetic and small like I'm asking for his permission to go.

He takes a sharp breath, trying to fight the internal battle threatening to consume him, trying to keep it all in, but I can hear it in every noise he makes. His regret is the only thing keeping me sane right now. The only thing keeping my anger at bay. His obvious pain at what he's done to us is the only balm in this horrible train wreck that was once our relationship.

He stays silent. The bed moves as he clenches the sheets, his hands trawling in desperation at whatever his inner dialog is saying to him. Jake in turmoil is devastating to my soul.

"I'll have Jefferson take you back to Queens whenever you want to go." He breathes the words as though I just stabbed him through the heart with a dagger.

If I have, I've also turned it on myself, and now I'm bleeding to death.

"I think it's best if I go as soon as I can get myself together." I don't think that's possible right now. My body is detached and useless, barely wanting to move, let alone get up. My heart is aching so heavily that it throbs through my chest and stomach. I feel sick with all of it. My head is light and swimming with the effort of trying to breathe. My nose is blocked from crying, and my throat is raw and raspy.

"I can't … I can't, Emma!" His voice suddenly turns powerful, tugging me to him in a flash, and I yelp in surprise. He buries his face into my hair, crushing me in his embrace and letting out the pain he's been holding back.

I never in my life thought I would see Jake cry, and it's the most awful thing I've ever witnessed. It has the same effect as watching everyone I love cut down and murdered while I lie useless and watch. My heart is broken in two.

I sob into his body in reaction, trying desperately to push away the thoughts running through my mind tormenting me. I stiffen against him, afraid to let him hold or let me go. Afraid to give in to the thoughts spiraling out of control in my mind. Thoughts of him and her. Afraid to try to envelope myself in him for fear of what will consume me.

"Please, let me go." I cry silently, begging him to stop making this worse for me. He has no idea of the agony that touching me is causing or how much internal pain it inflicts.

He seems to compose himself, sensing that I'm unresponsive in his arms, and loosens his grip, letting me go. He stands and quickly turns his back to me as he takes several heavy breaths. His posture is that of deflation and hopelessness.

"I'll let you leave, Emma, but I can promise you this. I'll never let you go … Even if I need to chase you for the rest of my life, I won't stop trying to get you back." He walks off slowly. I sense it's before he does something he will regret, like pushing me further away. He pauses by the door taking a final look at my disheveled form lying carelessly on the bed. His discarded, broken woman.

Our eyes meet, and it causes the sharpest wrenching kick to my gut, so much sadness and pain mirrored there.

Why did you have to kill me so?

"If I have to spend the next sixty years begging at your feet, Emma, then I will. You're the only one for me. The one! … I love you with every piece of my soul, baby. I know I fucked this up, but I won't ever stop trying to get you back in my life and your heart. Because I need you." With one final aching look, he leaves the room, walking further into the apartment, heading toward one of his many unused guest rooms to give me space. I wish his words could comfort me, but they don't; they only bring heart-ripping anger cutting through my grief.

If I really meant that much to him, then he would've never touched her at all.

* * *

I get up when my body can finally hold my weight, and I dress quickly. I can't bear to wander the apartment. I don't want to see Jake at all. I grab what clothes I can, and then, with a final walk out the door, I press the intercom button, which summons Mathews into the internal apartment. He appears, dressed in his Men in Black attire, informing me that Jefferson will only be a few minutes. He seems to know what I want, and I guess Jake has brought him up to speed like he always does.

Jake is nowhere to be seen, but I can sense him somewhere in the apartment. I can feel his presence. I'm trying not to give way to thoughts of him, or else I won't cope. I need to stay strong to be able to leave.

Mathews agrees to have Nora pack and send the rest of my belongings later today. I've decided that I need to walk away, taking all that I am. I need to get organized, get back to Sarah and home, and take time to think all this through. It's a plan and all that is holding me together. The old PA Emma taking over, clinging to organized thoughts and planning to help me get through the worst moment of my life. It's all so very polite and calm. My requests come from a seemingly sane person arranging a little trip while, in sheer agony, I try not to show the tormented soul that I am. It's what I need right now since any emotion would make me crumble at my own feet.

Mathews stands politely and silently as I give instructions on certain items I don't want or couldn't bear to have with me. His black hair is sprinkled with gray, his crinkled eyes highlighting the soft blue kindness in them. He's maybe in his late forties. I've always liked him as a quiet protector, always present sort of way.

I can see why Jake trusts him to run his security both in and out of his home. He has the air and quiet gentleness of a military man underlined with a hint of danger. I've no doubt he's the kind of man who would take a bullet for Jake. I like that he has Mathews to take care of him now that I won't be here to do it anymore.

My body is held together only by sheer will as Mathews takes my case and leads me to the elevator at the outer doors of the penthouse apartment. I manage to find the old part of me deep inside that shields how I feel. PA Emma lifts her chin and sets her face in a blank mask. I take one last look around. My heart aches like a dead weight in my body, not for this apartment, since it was never really mine anyway, but for what walking out of it symbolizes. I've lost everything just like I thought I would.

Not because I let Jake seduce me into a one-night stand but because I fell in love with him. I let go of so many defenses which kept me safe. Yet the outcome was the same: I lost him, my job, and our relationship. Here I am again, walking out of his life for the second time, only this time, I don't see a way of ever coming back.