I don’t even realise I’m doing it as I stride towards him, my blood boiling, my heart aching.
‘Do you really think it’s that simple?’ I throw at him when I’m within arm’s reach. ‘Do you really think time will stop me loving you?’
His eyes snap to mine, his pallor severe. ‘Don’t say that.’
‘Say what? That I love you, Jackson, that I’ve likely loved you ever since I fell in your lap six years ago?’
He walks away from me, striding to the bar and pouring another drink, but I’m hot on his tail. ‘You can’t avoid this conversation, Jackson. You owe me the truth.’
He throws back his drink and gulps it down. ‘You don’t love me...’ His voice is hoarse. ‘You can’t.’
‘Why? Because you don’t deserve it?’ I fist my hands on my hips and stare at him, eyes wide. ‘That’s what you keep telling me, right? That you don’t want to hurt me, that you want me to be safe. Well, newsflash, Jackson, I am hurt, and if you want me to walk away from this, from what we have, you need to tell me the truth. All of it...starting with Eliza.’
He has the decency to look at me now, really look at me, and my heart is shattering. He’s defeated. It’s there in his eyes, in the slump of his shoulders, the tremble in his fingers.
‘Please, Cait, don’t make me tell you.’
‘Why? What are you so afraid of?’
He presses his fist to his mouth and drags in air through his nose.
‘Jackson, whatever it is—’ I soften my tone ‘—you can trust me with it.’
He eyes me over his fist. The silence stretches and then, finally, he lowers his hand. He is so broken in his surrender that I’m winded. Tears prick the backs of my eyes as I clutch my arms around my middle.
‘What did she do to you?’ It’s a pained whisper and he walks away from me.
He perches on the edge of the sofa and I follow, apprehension weighing me down as I sit beside him. My fingers itch to reach for him and I clench them together, knowing they wouldn’t be welcome.
‘We had an affair,’ he says eventually, ‘a long time ago.’
I let out a trapped breath. He’s talking. Thank God, he’s talking. ‘When she owned the club?’
He nods, his eyes glued to his drink, his knuckles white as he grips the glass tight.
‘But I met her while I was waiting tables in another bar they owned, in the city. I was young, impressionable and she...’
‘She was married?’
Another nod.
‘People have affairs all the time, Jackson; it doesn’t make you a—’
‘I was sixteen, Cait.’
The blood rushes between my ears. My stomach lurches.
‘Sixteen?’ I shake my head. ‘No—no, it’s not possible. You were a child, not even—’
‘It was legal.’
I want to clutch my gut, my mouth, I want to retch, but I daren’t. I need to hear this.
‘True.’ It’s quiet, so quiet, because to say it any louder feels like approval and I’m so far from that.
‘I felt like the luckiest person alive back then.’ His laugh is cold. ‘It was hedonistic, intense. She seemed so sure of the world, so confident, and she wanted me... Compared to my home life, to growing up with zero attention...’
‘She gave you all of it.’
He nods into his glass. ‘I was ready and willing...and I had a choice. She never made me do anything I didn’t want to.’
I shudder, sensing where this is heading and wanting to close my ears and leave them open at the same time. ‘What does that mean?’
‘She...she had certain...tastes.’ His throat bobs. ‘Sexually.’
‘Like?’
He looks at me and shakes his head, his eyes so pained. ‘Don’t make me tell you, Cait.’
‘If you want this to be over, you have to tell me. You have to make me understand.’
I stare into his eyes and his own tremble back at me.
‘Everything and anything,’ he whispers. ‘It’s who she was, who she is. She’s a...pro-Dom, and I was her willing submissive.’
Bile rises in my throat, my mind painting the picture of sixteen-year-old Jackson, unloved at home, abused at work. He flinches and looks away; I know he sees the horror in my face, but I can’t hide it.
‘None of this makes you a bad person, Jackson. Eliza, yes. Not you.’
I don’t feel like he’s listening. His eyes are off me and lost in the past now. ‘For years she led me around, took control. I thought she was everything. It didn’t matter that she was married, that she was older...’
‘You thought you were in love with her.’
‘I did,’ he scoffs. ‘But now I know it was just infatuation. She taught me everything she knew; she brought me into the club to work, invested time and money in me. Gave me the means to start investing in my own interests, gave me the opportunity to buy in to Blacks, to run it with her and Damien.’
‘Her husband?’ I frown. ‘But surely he must have suspected something was going on? You were having an affair under his nose and—’
I break off. I can’t make sense of it, but the way Jackson throws back his whisky and stands, turning away from me, I know there’s more.
‘He knew. He knew from day one...’
‘And he let—’
‘He watched, Cait.’
‘What do you mean, he watched?’ The blood leaves my face as my hands shoot to the sofa edge, my nails biting into the fabric as I grip it tightly and stare at his rigid back.
‘She would set me up in her special room, our room she’d call it, and he would...he would watch it through the mirrors.’
‘No, no, they...no.’ Oh, God, I can’t speak. It’s playing out like some twisted thriller in my head, only it’s no movie. It’s Jackson’s story, his life, his reality.
He turns to look at me and all I see is the broken teenager he must have been, and I can’t bear it any longer. I need to hold him. I need to make him see that none of this is down to him.
‘Oh, Jackson.’ I push up but he shakes his head, his hand raised, palm out.
‘Don’t. I can’t bear you being close to me, not...not when I’m telling you this.’
I force myself to sink back as the puzzle that is Jackson falls into place. It’s so much worse than I ever could have imagined.
‘It’s how he got his kicks, how they both did.’
‘When...?’ My throat closes over and I force myself to swallow, try again. ‘When did you find out?’
‘Years later...too many years later.’ His eyes are back on the glass hanging from his limp fingers. ‘The night I proposed and asked her to leave him.’
‘You proposed to her?’
He nods. ‘I told her I loved her, that I wanted to marry her.’
‘And what did she say?’
The questions are coming on autopilot now. Questions I need to have the answers to.
He looks at me, his mouth pulling up in one corner. ‘She laughed. She asked me how I could possibly think she would want that. That’s when she told me the truth—about Damien, about how I fitted so perfectly into their marriage, and that things didn’t need to change.’
I press my fingers to my lips; they’re numb, my whole body is.
‘And you,’ I whisper. ‘What did you say?’
‘I was crushed... All that time, I thought she was in love with me, as I was her. She’d played me for a fool, but no more. I told her it was over, that I wanted the club and if she didn’t agree I’d sell my story instead. About how she seduced a sixteen-year-old boy, twenty years her junior, an employee, while her forty-year-old husband watched.’
‘Jesus, Jackson.’ It rushes out of me, the picture he paints too horrific, and I can’t stop myself pushing up off the sofa, reaching out for him. But he backs awa
y and I hate that he does so. ‘Please, let me—’
‘Don’t, Cait. I don’t deserve your sympathy and I certainly don’t want your pity.’
‘But don’t you see, it wasn’t your fault? What she did, what they did, it’s twisted, wrong.’
‘And it made me who I am today. I tried to warn you. I told you I was no good for you. I’m messed up, fucked in the head.’
‘No, Jackson, you’re not. They are.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. The things I’ve done to you, Ash and Coco’s wedding night...’ He shakes his head, turning away from me once more. ‘What I did to you was no better than what she did to me.’
‘You’re wrong. There was nothing wrong with what we did, what we shared. I wanted that every bit as much as you, and I still want it. I want all of you, Jackson, I want the darkness so I can make it light. I want to show you that you’re a better man than you think you are. I want to show you that you are worth loving.’
He turns his head to look at me side on, his eyes pleading, his frown crushing. ‘You can’t change me, Cait. I am what I am.’
I slip my hand around the glass in his hand and take it from him, placing it on the coffee table so that I can lace my fingers in his. Just the simple touch of skin against skin comforts me, warms me, connects us.
I pull him to face me.
‘You’re not listening to me, Jackson.’ My heart pulses in my chest, desperate, needing him to see. ‘I don’t need to change you; I need you to see yourself as I see you. As our friends see you. I need you to see that you are lovable, you are kind, you are honest, you are loyal.’
His eyes glisten and my heart aches so acutely it’s a physical pain.
He wets his lips, his voice hushed. ‘I’m messed up, Cait.’
‘That doesn’t make you a bad person...’ I cup his face in my palms. ‘It means you ought to talk to someone—if not me, a professional. Someone who can help you. But it doesn’t mean I can’t love you, Jackson. Please, just let me love you.’
He squeezes his eyes shut, his hands lifting to cover mine as he drags in a breath and then his hands fall to my wrists, gripping as he forces them down. No, no, no. He opens his eyes and I see the steely resolve, the hardness, the decision he’s made. My head is shaking before he even speaks.
‘I can’t. I just can’t do it. I can’t risk breaking you.’
‘You’re breaking me now.’
‘It’s over, Cait. You need to accept it.’
‘No, no, Jackson, I won’t. I love you. I’m not giving up on what we have, on us...on you.’
He releases me and walks away.
‘Please, Jackson.’
He doesn’t even slow his stride as he heads for the door.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Back to the club.’
‘Jackson, don’t do this. Don’t walk away.’
He keeps going.
‘How can you give Eliza the power to ruin your future?’ I call out, desperate.
Now he stops, and a tiny spark of hope flickers to life.
‘Can’t you see,’ I plead softly, ‘you’re letting her dictate your future as well as your past? Can’t you see you’re letting her win?’
‘This isn’t some game, Cait. This isn’t about Eliza winning. Nobody wins in this. I can’t love you like you deserve to be loved.’
‘Enough with the deserving, Jackson. I’m sick of it. I wanted you to fuck me, I wanted you to tie me down, I would have begged for it if needed. You didn’t make me. I’m not a naïve teenager and you sure as hell didn’t have some twisted fuck watching me unawares...did you?’
‘How can you ask me that?’
‘See, even you know it’s ridiculous.’
He shakes his head at me, and I know it’s not sinking in. He’s not hearing me.
‘Please, Cait, I’m trying to do the right thing.’
‘Fuck doing the right thing!’ I’m out of words. I can’t think what else to say, only that I can’t stay here and wait for him to come back again. I grab my overnight bag from the floor and stride past him to the door.
‘Where are you going?’
I grip the door handle and turn to stare him down.
‘Home. There’s nothing left for me to say, nothing else I can do...’ I see my heartbreak reflected back at me and still he won’t move towards me.
I wet my lips and forge ahead. ‘You can do one thing for me, though.’
‘What?’ he croaks.
‘Tell me you don’t love me.’
He stares at me, immobilised, pale.
‘Tell. Me. You. Don’t. Love. Me. Jackson.’
His mouth parts, his eyes flash, but nothing.
‘You can’t, can you?’
The air shudders out of him. ‘I won’t lie to you, Cait.’
I give a pained laugh. ‘You’ll willingly break both our hearts though.’
Anger surges in my blood—anger that he could do this, anger that he could love me and not fight to keep me. ‘It’s okay, Jackson, I give up. I can’t make you accept my love. I can’t force you to accept that everything we’ve done together we’ve done because we both wanted it. And I can’t force you into a relationship you don’t want to be in.’
I look at the bag in my hand, the glimpse of green and white, the excitement I felt when I came to the club this evening, hyped up on my love for him. My conviction that he would accept Mum’s invite, that we would spend Christmas together and what that would mean for us as a couple is long forgotten. I was a fool. But I won’t be a fool now.
I straighten up and pierce him with one last stare.
‘You can tell yourself whatever you like, Jackson. But screw your past, screw the mistakes, screw what she did to you. It’s you doing this to me now, and if you can’t see the love that’s staring you in the face, if you can’t accept what we have, then...’ I lift my chin and hold my ground ‘...maybe you don’t deserve me after all.’
I pull open the door and pause on the threshold.
‘You are not Eliza, Jackson,’ I say it to the floor. ‘It’s time you realised that.’
And then I leave. I don’t spare him another glance because I know it’ll break me. And I won’t beg him to let me love him. I won’t beg to be loved in return. I won’t beg full stop. I was strong enough to go into this with my eyes wide open, the least I can do is leave with the same strength, the same dignity.
And who the hell are you trying to kid?
A sob rises up within me and I stumble on the stairs, righting myself just in time.
I can’t stop the tears from falling freely now. I can’t stop my heart shattering. I can’t stop myself loving him all the more for what he’s suffered.
Because I do love him. I love him more now than I did before, knowing what happened, what he’s been through, understanding him...
I’m hardly aware of the people manning the exit to Blacks as I brush past them, accidentally shoulder barging one as I struggle to see past the tears. I mutter an apology and keep on going. I don’t spy the curious looks being sent my way or acknowledge their concerned remarks.
I just want to get home. Now.
* * *
I stare at the door. Stare and stare until my eyes water.
It’s done. She’s gone.
It’s done. She’s gone.
I can’t stop the words on repeat in my brain. I know if I do then the other words will rage louder. The ones that repeat her words back at me...
I don’t need to change you; I need you to see yourself as I see you. As our friends see you...you are lovable, you are kind, you are honest, you are loyal... let me love you.
And her parting shot: You are not Eliza...
She’s right. I’m not. I would never, ever do what they did. They abused me.
I was
abused.
It’s the first time I’ve labelled it in such a way, and I shudder and shake as my gut writhes with the acceptance.
It doesn’t excuse the way I am now. It doesn’t take away the things I insist on in bed, the things my twisted mind craves...
But then I think of the night at her parents’, the sex in the dark, slow, loving...no need for control, no power dynamic in play. I think of the mornings we’ve shared, waking up with our bodies entwined. I think of the easy time with her family, the laughter and the fun...even the festive cheer.
I think of Eliza tonight, of how she’s incapable of love, but me, Christ...
Tell me you don’t love me.
Impossible. I know I love her.
You’ll willingly break both our hearts...
The pain swamps me. Is this how she feels too? This desperate, this alone, this broken? All because of me. And why? Because of some twisted notion that I could be like Eliza. That I am Eliza.
No, it’s more than that. It’s the loss of control; it’s the fear of opening myself up to loving someone and having them walk away, the fear of being broken again.
I drag in a breath and fork my hands through my hair.
She’s not the one walking away—you are!
The thought of life without her grips me and I fall forward, my hands clawing at my knees. What the hell have I done? I can’t breathe for it.
She loves me. She truly loves me. The first person in my life to ever truly love me and I’ve pushed her away.
I stumble forward, get to the door and yank it open. ‘Cait!’
I’m moving, running, my body and mind focused on one thing—to get to her and tell her the one thing I haven’t dared. That I love her.
God, how I love her.
I pound down the stairs, my heart thumping the same beat so loudly in my ears that I can’t even take a full breath, can’t pause long enough to walk to the next flight, I’m throwing myself down them, but I can’t hear her, I can’t see her.
How long was I like that for? Hunched over in indecision, paralysed by my own messed-up state?
I reach the pavement outside, scan the street, up and down. She’s not there. There are people, there are cars, but there’s no her.
Unwrapping the Best Man Page 16
