by Maya James
We walked into the kitchen. She motions for me to have a seat and asks if I want something to drink. I'm telling her no while she's putting a glass of water on the table in front of me.
"Yes, you do," she says. She sounds like JP with a vagina.
It would have pissed me off except for two things; this is where Justin gets his JP personality and I did really want the water. I pick it up and down a few large gulps that stab at my throat.
"You want to know why I left? You think there must be a reason, and it might be good for Justin to know it?"
"Exactly," I admit. "If there's no good reason, I'll let it go. If what he was left to believe is the truth or close enough, then he's dealt with it and he is where he needs to be. But he realized something about his father that he was wrong about all these years, and it made him a better man; more content with himself, and if there's more to learn about you, he deserves it."
She looks at me funny. "You lied to him, didn't you? He doesn't know you've been looking for me, or that you're here right now, and that it's eating you up?"
My nervous smile is her answer.
Her eyes drop to the table softly. "If you had to hide it, that must mean this is a big risk for you, he'd be furious if he knew—maybe even break up with you?"
"Yes," I answer in the smallest voice I've ever heard come out of me.
"Why risk it?" she asks compassionately.
I find some confidence. "Because he's worth it. I want him to be complete, even if it costs me his love."
She doesn't say anything.
"That's probably hard for anyone to understand—"
"No," she interrupts me mid-word. "I understand it perfectly. I understand it, maybe just as much as you do." The emotions in her voice are so intense they make me want to cry. "He means more to you than you mean to yourself. I've loved someone that much, actually, three men have meant more to me than my own happiness." Her tears are falling now, and she makes no attempt to hide them. "Justin's father was the greatest romantic love I will ever know; I have never gotten over him. And Justin, my son. Giving him up—there is no way to explain that kind of hurt. My actions don't show it, but I love him very much to this day."
Nicolette suddenly buries her face in her hands and sobs in immense chest-heaving bursts. My arms are around her before I knew I was going to do that.
"We might be more alike than you wanted," she whispers through her wet hands. "But I'm thrilled that you love my son so much that you would ruin yourself for him. You don't know what that means to a mother to know her son has found that."
She pulls her face from her hands and sits up, trying to compose herself. I let her out of my embrace and lean back in my chair.
"You said three?" I ask softly. "You said there were three men you loved. Justin and his father—who was the third?" My voice treads lightly.
"Yes. Yes I did," she answers with an emotion I don't even recognize. "I'm going to tell you everything now, all of it. It's the first time ever that I will say it out loud to anyone."
Nicolette looks at my glass of water and shakes her head. "I'm going to need something a little stronger than that to tell you this, and you're going to need something stronger to hear it."
MY HANDS ARE SHAKING. Actually, my whole fucking body is a trembling mess. I grab the wine glass she handed me and raise it to my lips only to find it's still empty, and I remember I just tried to drink from it a moment ago and it was already empty then.
Jesus Christ! I don't know what to do with what she told me.
"Here." Nicolette picks up the wine bottle and pours us both some more, mine first. While she fills hers, I gulp down half of it, hearing the clicking of my throat.
Both of our faces are soaked in our salty tears. The tissues are not keeping up at all and I think we've manufactured enough snot to fill a third glass.
Really...what do I do with this?
None of it was what I had suspected and was prepared for. My heart is broken for her, absolutely crushed and devastated. The shaking in my stomach won't go away.
One thing that is perfectly clear—Justin must hear about it!
This is a world changer for him, as epic as Lena and I could have imagined. It's not right, for any of them, that the truth has never come out.
"I'm so sorry for you, for what happened and everything that it caused." My voice is cracked in a million places.
"Whatever happens next is up to you," she cries softly. "You know him, and I don't. A long time ago, after years of knowing I am not good enough for my son, I came to accept that I will never know him."
"Don't say that!" I practically shout. "Don't lower yourself, I won't hear it!"
Nicolette offers me a smile that's supposed to portray confidence, but it’s way too wounded. I throw my arms around her again.
"I just want to say, don't risk it, Charity. Don't lose him over me," she tells me from under the pressure of my muffling embrace. She sounds like she is miles away, and that is so fitting. She has been away, for years she has been away and it's time to get her home.
I don't make any promises to her—I can't. Right now I have no thoughts or plans, and my heart hurts. I will tell her truth, I just need to figure out how.
Oh God—that's not going to be easy.
The misery stays with me the entire drive back to the resort and the girls. My hands tremble on the steering wheel. A few times I get so sick to my stomach I almost pull over to throw up. Literally, I'm terrified.
Maybe I had hoped she was going to turn out to be the piece of shit Justin believes she is; that would have made this easy. How terrible is that? At least this would have been over, and he would never even have to know I was here.
Now I have to tell him I've betrayed him. Justin has to hear this, there's no option, but holy fuck!
When I get back, the girls are on a break between treatments sipping champagne and laughing in their fluffy white bathrobes, just like the one the spa staff gave me to put on and join them. They quickly bring me a glass of my own to catch up, and I down it in three huge gulps.
"Feeling better?" Trisha giggles.
I smile—somehow. "Much better. It was just something that didn't agree with me. After I took a nap, I was right as rain."
"Well, you made it just in time for our full body massages," Lena says with a wink.
"Good," I breathe. "I fuckin' need it!"
"Wow! You are fired up, girl," Trisha teases.
Trisha doesn't see the look I give Lena, the one that says, "Holy shit! Wait until you hear this!”
Okay, that probably wasn't fair to do to Lena; it's bad enough I'm a nervous wreck, but now I've got her concerned and I won't be able to tell her a thing about it for hours at least, until we are alone.
Lena is smart, though. I'm sure she's already seen in my face that whatever I've discovered, it's huge and that means we have to tell Justin.
That was the intention all along.
CHAPTER X
I'm just barely through the door when I sense something bad. John always talks about the city having emotions; well tonight our apartment is having one. My coat is still on, bags in my hands and already the hair is standing up on my neck. He's not greeting me at the door the way he usually does, making sure the first thing I see is his smiling face.
Maybe I'm just feeling like a guilty bitch!
"Justin?"
A heavy feeling of dread falls over me when he doesn't answer. There's hundreds of possibilities for why, but my mind is choosing all of the worst ones. I drop my bags on the floor by the door and step further in.
The silence of the place is eerie. I proceed to check every room, even the patio, and there's no sign of him.
Where the hell is he? And what does it mean that he's not here?
Maybe this doesn't have to be too difficult. I grab my phone and call him.
It just rings and bumps to voice mail.
Okay, it has to be difficult.
I dial Lena. "Hey. I know I just
saw you like half an hour ago, but have you heard from Justin?"
"No, why?" she asks seriously.
"He's not here."
More silence. First the damn apartment, now Lena. If I listen hard enough, I might hear the gears turning in her head.
"Let me call you back," she says quickly.
"Wait! What are you doing?"
"Just give me a little while," she said softly. Then she hung up without waiting for my answer.
I'm fighting back tears. Obviously, she thinks exactly what I think. He found out; somehow, despite how careful I tried to be, Justin found out I went to his mother. And now he's gone before I can confess it to him with the reasons for doing it.
Suddenly my chest has trouble keeping the breath in my lungs, panting in furious bursts.
Stop it until you know for sure!
I take my bags into the bedroom and throw them on the bed so I can unpack. For now, I'll pretend everything is fine.
The minutes pass and Lena still hasn't called me back. That makes it impossible to stop wondering what she's doing.
When she calls me back, it's more than two hours later.
"Lena, what the fuck?" I shout hysterically.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry, but I had a lot to get to. He hasn't answered for me, either," she says.
"Then where the hell is he?" I ask, calmer. "Is he on an assignment with the team?"
"No. I thought that too, but I reached them and he's not with them."
"Does he know?" I ask.
Her voice lowers. "I think so."
My panic explodes. "How, Lena? I was careful!"
"The rental car company you used," she says. "They are a subsidiary to one of our clients, so they didn't show up anywhere as a client. I didn't even know. We shouldn't have access to them, to their systems, but we do through the main company. I don't know how he knew to look for it, but if he did, he would have had full access to the GPS in your car. And if he saw where you went—"
"It’s easy enough to find out who lives there," says my pale-white face as I drop limp to the bottom half of my bed.
"Are you okay?" Lena asks.
In a tear-filled bellow of pain, I scream, "No!"
Her serious voice turns comforting. "I'm on my way."
JUSTIN STILL HASN'T COME up for air on his own by the morning. I spent the night crying on Lena's shoulder and I'm feeling helpless and hopeless. It’s Monday, and I haven’t seen him since Saturday morning when I flew out with the girls. That’s much longer than I am prepared to be without him.
"Let me go to him," Lena begs again as she had several times during the night. "I know he's here. No matter how angry he is, Charity, he can't bear to be too far from you."
"You think he went back to his old apartment?" My voice is hoarse.
She answers, "I'm not sure which one you mean, but yes, I think he's still here."
"Lena, does he own the building?" I can't believe I didn't realize this sooner. Lena nods, the hint of a smirk on her lips. "He had me paying rent?" I question.
"You have a second savings account in your name. He had me dump all of your money right back into it. He wouldn't take a thing, not even at the beginning," she tells me.
Fuck! That just makes my heart hurt worse.
"No, don't go get him," I tell her. "I've hurt him enough. Give him a few days, and when he does talk to you, I want you to deny knowing anything at all. I did this—not you. I snuck out on both of you. Trisha will make it look good if you need it, since she really doesn't have a clue. Just be careful. You two read each other too well."
"Charity—"
"That's the way this needs to go, and you know it," I snap at her.
She relents, for now. "What are you going to do?" she asks full of concern.
"I think I'm going to go home."
She shouts at me, "You're giving up?
"No!" I defend. "But right now he needs a break from me at the least, before I try again. And I just don't think I'm strong enough, not for this, not all on my own. You can't be with me, you need to be there for Justin, and so I'm going to my family and Melissa."
She understands, but she hates it. "I'm so sorry, Charity. I should never have put this in your head. I should just go tell him."
"He'll just hate us both then. And if he hates you, who's going to get him to forgive me?" I try a smile. It fails as badly as Justin's mother's had when I was with her.
Lena put her arms around me. "I'll take you. He's not talking to anyone right now anyway, so I'll take you home."
Lena helps me repack my things and I cry the entire time. I feel like I weigh a thousand pounds; my body refuses to work and my heart actually hurts. The only reason I can go on is by hoping this will all go away and he will be mine again soon.
While Lena makes arrangements, I call Mom and let her know the short version of the events. It's heartbreaking to hear her so upset for me. Mom insists, there’s no question about it, I’m going home.
Melissa is waiting for us when we get there. No one has heard from Justin still, and it's starting to scare me. Someone already tried to get him killed once; what if they tried again? Lena is feeling that fear along with me, but she's trying to be positive.
Dad seems unscathed by the absence of Justin. When I ask him why, he laughs. "I've seen the boy," he replies. "He can get as pissed as he wants, but he won't let you go—no more than I could let your mother go. Could you imagine that?"
He makes my first real smile in days. He made all of us smile, Mom with the brightest of course.
Mom breaks out some Moscato at dinner and shortly after, its effect on her is evident when Lena tries leaving for a hotel. "Sit your ass down," she barks at her through a hiccup. "This is a girl’s night and you're a guest. You ain't going anywhere."
"Well, damn," Lena jokes as she does what she was told.
"Melissa, you might as well get comfortable too," Mom hisses.
"Already planning on it, Mom," she answers.
"Awe shit!" Dad says as he stands up. "I'm gettin' the hell out before the Vagina Monologues begin." He kisses my head and leaves the room.
Later that night, Lena finally heard from Justin. It was a text that simply asked if she was part of it.
Thank fucking Christ! He's okay.
"So...he knows," Lena says flatly.
"Do what I asked, Lena." My eyes are on her, wide and serious. "Tell him no. Tell him you didn't know until I called you upset last night."
"Charity, I—"
"Do it, please. If you don't he will be done talking to you again. Right now you are our only shot of getting to him, to tell him about his mother, and you’re our only shot at helping me get back with him."
THE AIR IN THE restaurant is heavy with the smell of bacon and coffee; you can make out some others as well like the fried onions in their home fries, syrup, even the frying sausage. Country Ham and Eggs is one of my favorites, which is why Melissa had insisted on it for breakfast.
Plus the fact that we are all a little too hung-over to do any cooking ourselves.
We had just sat down at a large round table near the front of the restaurant and my father looks as proud as can be surrounded by beautiful women. He sits like a king between my mom and I. His smile seems endless, and I know he wants everyone in the place to notice him.
"Now, Lena," Melissa starts, "remember you're with friends and family, this isn’t New York. You can actually eat. Don't order sushi or dry wheat toast. Your skinny and sexy enough; one good meal won't hurt you."
She looks grateful for the compliment but embarrassed by the attention.
"Oh hell yeah," Dad agrees. "Don't leave here hungry, Hon."
"It smells too good in here to not eat," she replies. That makes them all happy, and when she orders, she stays true to her word; ham, eggs, and cheese on a croissant with home fries and a banana nut muffin on the side.
"Hot damn!" Melissa cheered.
Our orders go in and the coffees come out. And while
we all fix ours how we like it, we notice a deep, pale fear settling on Melissa's face. A thin film of sweat glistens on her forehead while her eyes are transfixed beyond their table through the front of the place.
"Are you okay, Melissa?" Mom asks.
That seems to bring her back quickly, obliterating her trance. "Yes, I'm fine," she bumbles and stutters. "I'm just more hung-over than I thought."
Its complete bullshit, but the others all seem to buy it—except Lena. Her wheels are spinning and planning, I can see it but I just don’t know why.
I dab my sore eyes with a napkin. Justin crossed my mind again as he has about every five minutes since yesterday. I don’t know how long I can feel like this, but I’m thinking at least forever.
"Are you okay, Sweetie?" Mom asks, seeing the return of my sadness.
For them, I compose myself and tell everyone I’m fine. I do the exact same thing when it happens two more times during breakfast. The reality that I may never see Justin again is more than I can handle. Hearts break for me all the way around the table, I can see it in their faces, but that does nothing to ease the pain.
"It's not over," Lena reassures me as the table is being cleared after we are done. "It will not be over. I won't let it, not after what you've done for me."
I nods again, and offer that pathetically unbelievable smile I’ve been trying to use. No one is taken by it.
"Charity, no one believes that fake-ass smile!" Lena teases, making everyone laugh easily. She puts her slender finger under my tear-soaked chin and lifts my face up to them. "I mean it, Charity. I will not let this be over for you two; I will not stop until it's fixed."
My smile is a little more believable this time. "Your father is a very smart man, and he's right about Justin. He loves you way too much to let you go. He's just not capable of doing it. Right now he is hurt. He thinks he's been betrayed and he has the right to feel that, but it won't last. When that is gone and he's left with the agony of not having you and he understands why you did this—you won't be able to keep him away from you."
