Committed (Collided Book 3)

by Portia Moore

  “Do you want to stay here at the hotel?” Rose asks gently. “Or do you want to go home?” She sounds hesitant when she asks if I want to go home, and from the way she’s speaking, I feel like maybe she does know about Jackson and I. Maybe she knows something. I drop my hands from my face and look at her miserably, asking her the question that’s been rattling around in my head this whole time.

  “Rose, um…do you know? About Jackson and…” I swallow hard, feeling my throat close over as my cheeks flame with embarrassment all over again. “About Jackson and I?” I whisper, my voice full of shame.

  We never meant to hurt anyone, but we did anyway. I tried to do the right thing, and I failed.

  How could I have fucked up so colossally without ever meaning to? The coincidences that led to me dating Jackson’s son are so huge that I’ll go crazy if I start thinking about it again.

  Rose presses her lips together. To my surprise, there isn’t any judgment on her face. But then again, she’s Jackson’s assistant. She’s been with him for years. She’s probably handled his indiscretions before, and I feel hot and embarrassed, wondering how many of his side pieces she’s had to handle. I’d like to think I’m the only one she’s sat and comforted like this, but who knows. Maybe I’m not the only one Jackson fell in love with and then screwed things up.

  “I know enough,” she says tactfully. “Madison, Jackson has given me instructions that you’re to be taken care of. Anything you might need, I’ll get for you. This is a…difficult situation.”

  That’s putting it lightly. But I’m touched. Jackson’s life is, arguably, falling apart even more so than mine. Not just his wife, but his son and his daughter—his whole fucking family—is going to be furious with him. He’s probably going to lose them all over this. Cassandra is going to take him to the cleaners in divorce court, most likely. But he’s still worried about my well-being. It’s enough to make me want to start crying, but I try to hold it back. I’ve got to pull myself together and figure out what I’m going to do next.

  “How’s Jackson doing?” I ask quietly, not looking Rose in the eye.

  “I didn’t really get to speak to him. He was in a hurry to catch up to his wife.” It sounds like there’s a slight emphasis on the word wife, but maybe I just imagined it. Maybe it’s just the guilt making me hear things. “He’s doing as well as to be expected, considering the situation,” Rose says calmly.

  So he’s a fucking mess like I am. I can’t stay in this hotel—it’ll make me miserable to be here, thinking about how tonight was supposed to go. I was going to tell Alex about our baby tonight. I press my hand to my stomach. It’s inconceivable that there’s another person in there, but there is, and that’s something I have to worry about too. I have to do the right thing, not just for me, but for my baby. Our baby.

  I want to curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep, but I stand up instead, reaching for the bag that has my things in it. “I need to go back home,” I tell Rose, biting my lip. “Back to the apartment.” It’s not home anymore, or at least it won’t be soon. I don’t know where I should go after that. To Parker’s? Home to my mother? To Melissa? Definitely not the last one—I can’t take her criticism, her telling me that I should’ve been honest when I already fucking know that. I know how much I’ve screwed up. And I have no idea how to fix any of it.

  Alex will probably be at the apartment, or he’ll be there soon, and I need to talk to him, one way or another. I have no idea what I’m going to say, whether I should tell him about the baby or not, whether I should just accept my fate and leave with dignity, or beg him to let us try to fix things. I don’t want to use our baby as a bargaining chip. And I don’t want him to think I’m more pathetic than he probably does already.

  But I can’t avoid him forever. I have to move forward, even if it feels like my heart is breaking, and my entire world is crashing down around me. I have to.

  “Come along, then,” Rose says kindly. “I’ll drive you back.”

  My resolve lasts all the way until we get back to the apartment building, and then I feel it crumple. Rose parks at the curb, but I’m frozen in place; I can’t get out.

  “Madison?” Rose prompts gently, and I shake my head.

  “I can’t do it,” I whisper. “I can’t go up there. Alex…”

  Rose gives me an empathetic look. “No worries. I’ll come up with you, sweetie,” she says gently. “Just to help you settle in.” She looks as if she wants to say something else, but doesn’t. I know it’s a bad look, being afraid of seeing my fiancé, but it’s not that I think Alex would ever hurt me. But facing him, seeing his disappointment, his anger and pain head-on. The thought makes my heart clench in my chest—I’d be the one to cause it.

  I know I should be able to handle this on my own, but I’m relieved that Rose has offered. I nod, finally able to open the door as she puts the car in park and gets out, going around to put change into the parking meter as I get my bag out of the trunk.

  The apartment is empty and quiet when we walk in, except for Ally, the cat, who hears our footsteps and comes running out of the kitchen, meowing loudly for attention. She winds around my ankles, and I feel tears spring to my eyes—she’s probably the only one who’s going to be happy to see me today. I reach down and pick her up, squeezing her tightly before she lets out an annoyed sound and leaps out of my arms, perching on the back of the couch and watching me as I stand forlornly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do next.

  “Is there anything you need?” Rose asks, her voice slightly formal, the way she might ask Jackson if he needed anything, but it’s still kind. “I can make you something to eat, or call someone for you…”

  I shake my head. She’s done enough, and suddenly all I want is to be alone. I’m desperately tired, and it’s late. “You’ve done plenty, thank you so much,” I tell her sincerely. “Thank you for coming up with me.”

  Rose smiles at me, that same motherly smile that she gave me earlier. “Here’s my number,” she says, handing me a card out of her purse. “It’s my cell. If you need anything, you can call me, okay? I mean it.”

  I smile weakly at her. “Thank you,” I say again, and when the door shuts behind her, I collapse onto the couch, my heart aching.

  I call Parker, the only person I can think of to talk to right now. Of course, it goes straight to voicemail—she’s probably out with her fiancé or partying with friends. It’s late on a weekend night, after all. If everything hadn’t happened the way it did, I’d still be dancing with Alex at Tiffany’s reception…

  A sob clogs my throat, and I choke it down. I can’t cry anymore. But as I lay down on the couch, pulling a throw blanket over myself as I curl into a ball, I can’t keep the tears from leaking out of my eyes as I fall asleep.

  It’s just a matter of time until Alex gets back, and then everything is going to change.

  I wake up to a pounding on the door. It jolts me out of a hard sleep and I bolt upright, my head aching as I throw off the blanket and hurry to open it, hoping that it’s Alex. Even with everything that’s happened, I desperately want to see him. I want a chance to explain…and I miss him. It’s only been a few hours, but I miss him.

  When I open the door, it’s not Alex…it’s Jackson. He looks terrible—his hair is a mess, his tie is crooked, his face looks years older than it did earlier today. His eyes are red, and I can tell he’s been crying, or drinking, or maybe both. I can’t think of anything to say. I’m completely speechless at seeing him like this. No matter how things went between us or how complicated they are now, I did love him once. I still care about him. And he’s clearly just as hurt as I am—everything about him screams that he’s utterly broken. His world has shattered as entirely as mine has.

  “Can I come in and talk to Alex?” he asks, his voice cracking a little. “Please, I need to talk to him.” He’s pleading, almost begging, and it’s uncomfortable to see. The Jackson I’ve known is a proud, capable, almost arrogant man sometimes. I’ve ne
ver seen him brought so low.

  I clear my throat, swallowing hard. “He’s not here yet,” I manage.

  “Have you had a chance to talk to him?” Jackson asks, pressing his lips tightly together.

  I shake my head. “I haven’t seen him since…since it happened. I haven’t talked to him at all.”

  “His other parents haven’t seen him either,” Jackson says tightly. “No one has, that I can tell.” He pauses, collecting himself a little. “Can I come in, please? He’s got to come back sooner or later; he can’t stay gone forever. I can’t think until I get a chance to talk to my son. Please.”

  I hesitate. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I say firmly. “If Alex comes back and sees us together, it’s just going to piss him off more and make it even harder to get through to him. He probably doesn’t want to see either of us right now, and he’s definitely not going to want to walk through that door and see us here together. He’s going to think…”

  Jackson chews on his lower lip, and I can see that he’s shaky. His eyes look sadder than I’ve ever seen him. “He wouldn’t think…he can’t think that,” he says. “That we’re still…please, Madison. We should tell him together, the way we planned before the wedding. We agreed that it was the right thing to do. Please, I can’t leave without talking to my son.”

  “Jackson…”

  “I’ll only stay an hour,” he insists. “If he’s not back by then, then I’ll leave, okay? And you can talk to him first.”

  It’s a terrible idea. I can only imagine how I’d feel if the tables were turned, and it was Alex and Holly, and I came back to find them alone together in my apartment. But I’m still terrified of seeing Alex alone. I don’t have any idea how he’s going to react, and the idea of having someone else there to lessen the blow, to absorb some of the anger—well, it’s tempting. And Jackson looks so broken. I can’t bring myself to tell him to go away. We did agree we’d tell Alex together.

  “Alright,” I relent, stepping back from the door. “One hour.”

  We go into the kitchen, and I get us both some water. “How did things go with Cassandra?” I ask as I hand him the glass and sit down opposite him, keeping my distance in case Alex walks in. I don’t want to be too close to Jackson when Alex comes home. I don’t want anything to be misconstrued. I don’t want any other reason for Alex to think I’ve screwed up, or that I meant for this to happen.

  Or that it’s still happening.

  “She won’t talk to me,” Jackson says miserably. “She told me not to come home, not to call her again. Tiffany and Philip won’t answer my calls either. And why should they? Their whole wedding was ruined.” His hand tightens around the glass, and for a second, I think it might break as the sadness in his face turns to fury, and I see a little of the old Jackson still in there. “I want to kill Holly,” he growls. “How could she fucking do this? How could she do that to her best friend? And the family…we took her side. She’s a selfish bitch to do something like this.”

  “Yeah, she is,” I agree, but there’s no vindictiveness in my voice. I’m too tired to be angry anymore. I’m just sad and feeling more hopeless every minute that passes. If Alex still loved me, if he wanted to fix things, or hear an explanation, he’d be home already. I try to be optimistic that the longer he stays away, the more he’s trying to get his thoughts together, figure things out, and hopefully that’s in my favor. Or he’s just trying to calm down enough to tell me to get out. “It’s our fault, though,” I say tiredly. “If we just hadn’t kept the secret, if we’d told the truth, none of this would have happened. Holly is awful for doing what she did, but ultimately she wouldn’t have been able to do a damned thing if we’d just confessed right away.”

  Jackson doesn’t say anything, and I take a sip of my water, trying to calm my nerves. “Do you think he might forgive us?” I venture. “Do you think there’s a chance?”

  “You’ve probably got a better shot since you’re pregnant,” Jackson says bitterly. “I’m hoping you can be the one to convince him to forgive me.”

  I shake my head, looking down at the table. “Please don’t bet on that,” I say softly.

  We hear the sound of the door opening then, and we both jump to our feet, waiting to see if it’s Alex. I feel like I can’t breathe…and then I hear Alyssa call out: “Hey! I’m baack!”

  All of the air goes out of me, and I’m both disappointed that it’s not Alex and relieved that I don’t have to face the music yet. But I want to get this over with. The waiting is killing me…and I can see that Jackson isn’t handling it all that great, either.

  Alyssa walks through the kitchen door and stops in her tracks, taking in our appearance and frowning. “Um…what happened?” she asks, waving a hand at us. “You two look like someone killed a whole litter of puppies in front of you.”

  “Delightful,” Jackson mutters as he sinks back into his seat.

  I look at her, biting my lip. “Have you heard from Alex?” I ask, hopefully.

  “Um, no,” Alyssa says, turning her back on us and going straight to the refrigerator to start rummaging through it. “But I was coming back to tell him I wanna live here again because our parents are fucking helicopters and I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to go insane!” She fishes a bag of shredded cheese out and opens it. “What is wrong with you two?”

  I sit back down. “Alex found out,” I say impassively. “At Tiffany’s wedding reception. We haven’t heard from him since.”

  Alyssa freezes halfway through reaching into the bag, her eyes going wide with shock. “What? Wait…does he know that I knew?”

  Irritation washes over me. Of course, the first thing she thinks about is herself. I like Alyssa, but sometimes she grates on my nerves. It’s like having a little sister, and I wonder if Melissa felt that way about me sometimes—hell, if she still feels that way. It would explain a lot. “We haven’t seen him or talked to him, remember?” I say, not able to keep the anger out of my voice. “So no, he doesn’t know.”

  Alyssa swallows hard. “Please don’t tell him,” she says quickly. Her eyes are pleading, and she’s suddenly reticent, not her normal, boisterous self. “Seriously, please don’t tell him I knew. He’ll never forgive me.”

  I open my mouth to say something—I’m not even sure what—when the door opens, and all three of us freeze. It’s Alex; I know from every nerve ending on my body springing to alert.

  We’re all silent as he walks in and looks around at the three of us. He looks nearly as disheveled as Jackson—his hair is a mess, he’s gotten rid of his tie and jacket. His eyes look dull and numb, and I feel my heart twist inside my chest at the sight of him.

  “Oh look,” Alex says, his tone almost jovial. “It’s a dysfunctional family reunion. So nice to have you all in one place.” His eyes drag over to Alyssa. “Sis, you probably don’t even know what’s happening yet! See, I found out a few hours ago—at Tiffany’s wedding—that my fiancée was fucking my father! It’s like a fucking soap opera, and I’m not even getting paid to be a part of it.” He laughs, but I can hear the bitterness in it. It’s clear that he’s not really laughing, that he’s using it as a cover for how much he’s hurting, and somehow that’s worse than him yelling. It’s worse than him just being mad because I can’t even think of how to say anything in return.

  “Son, please let us explain,” Jackson says quietly.

  Alex turns away from him and goes to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a glass and pouring whiskey into it. “Go ahead, then,” he says calmly. “Explain.” But before Jackson can say anything, Alex swivels to face us, the glass of whiskey clenched tightly in his hand. “But make sure you start by explaining how you cheated on your wife and fucked someone your own daughter’s age.” His voice is cold and bitter now, his eyes angry. I’ve never seen him so mad, and I shrink backward.

  “Alex, please,” I say, tears filling my eyes as I hold out my hands, begging him to listen. “It happened before you and I were dating. Please, you
have to believe me. None of this was while we were together!” I’m desperate, filled with a crazy hope that maybe if I can just explain, he’ll understand that this is all a big misunderstanding, a colossal fuck-up that was never meant to go this far. “I never knew Jackson was your dad. I promise I didn’t know. And Jackson didn’t know I was dating you.”

  Alex looks at me directly, his eyes icy. There’s no love there, not even anger. Just coldness. “So when did you find out?” he asks flatly.

  I hesitate. Jackson steps forwards. “Son, we didn’t find out until…”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Alex shouts, swiveling back towards Jackson. “I wasn’t fucking talking to you.”

  Jackson straightens, looking sharply at his son as he squares his shoulders. I can see some of his typical poise coming back. He’s not going to take this kind of attitude from his son no matter how awful what we’ve done is. “I know this is bad,” Jackson says, “and Madison and I were wrong in how we handled it, but I won’t be disrespected that way by my own son…”

  Alex lunges forward, getting into Jackson's face as he swings out with his fist, intentionally missing Jackson and hitting the back of the chair next to him. It goes flying into the wall, and Jackson flinches backward. I hear Alyssa gasp, and it’s all I can do not to burst into tears. I’ve never seen Alex like this!

  “Seeing you fucking my fiancée in front of my sister’s entire wedding voids any fucking respect I ever had or will have for you,” he snarls, glaring at his father. “Now get the fuck out of my apartment!”

  “Alex, please, you need to hear us out…” Jackson pleads. “You don’t understand. We had our reasons—”

  “I don’t care about your reasons.” Alex is breathing heavily now, the whiskey sloshing in his glass. “You’re a fucking cheater, a disgusting liar. You’re not my fucking father anymore. Get out!”