She shook her head. “Jesse?—”
“It was never fake to me. I don’t care how it started. I don’t care what the original plan was. It wasn’t fake. Not for me.” Her eyes searched mine, looking like she was trying to figure out if I was exaggerating, but I just wasn’t. “It isn’t fake now either.”
I let out a long, slow breath, some of the fight draining out of me, but behind it was a much sharper, much more painful emotion. “I love you.”
Her shoulders slumped. “But?”
“But this hurts.” I gestured between us. “I’m not doing it anymore, Jacque. I can’t. It hurts too much.”
I grabbed my jacket and my shoes, not looking at her as I moved toward the door.
“Jesse, don’t go. Please?”
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t do that, look at her again, see all that vulnerability and hurt, and still walk away, but that was what I needed to do right now.
“Goodbye, Jacque.” I murmured, then reached for the door, opened it, and left, knowing I was doing the right thing but somehow feeling worse than I ever had.
For the first time in my life, I’d said it. I’d told a girl that I was in love with her and it still hadn’t been enough. At this point, I honestly wasn’t sure anything would be.
CHAPTER 44
JACQUELINE
Igot back to Chicago in a haze. That was the only way to describe it. Everything felt muted, like someone had turned down the volume on my life and forgotten to turn it back up again. I went to work, answered emails, and sat through meetings, but I was barely aware of any of it.
Days crept by like that, blurring together while the only thing I really felt was empty. Hollow. There was this quiet, constant ache in my chest that I couldn’t shake. No matter how busy I made myself, he was still there, those words he’d said still ricocheting around in my head.
Walking into my favorite coffee shop used to feel like entering a sanctuary, but this week, not even that helped. I ordered a latte and waited, but as I was wondering whether a mental institution would consider admitting me, I caught sight of the magazine rack against the wall.
One of those terrible gossip tabloids my mom loved jumped out at me immediately. Mostly because it hadJesse’sface on the cover.
The picture seemed to have been taken at that party in New York, showing him surrounded by those women who’d tried all night to get his attention. There was a roguish smirk on his lips,but onlyIknew that particular smirk had been aimed atme, not at any of these other women.
The headline certainly didn’t leave any room for that possibility.Chicago’s Favorite Playboy Back to His Old Games
I let out a quiet, dry laugh.Well, they’re not subtle, are they?
But on the other hand, this was the version of him the world knew. This was who he’d been. Before me.
The man on the cover of that magazine wasn’t the real Jesse, the one who’d told me he loved me like it was the simplest, most undeniable truth in the world. It also wasn’t the man who had crossed oceans to get my dog back.
I swallowed hard, looking away from the picture.Little do they know what really happened that night.
I’d been so sure that Jesse couldn’t possibly bethatserious, but my entire world view was seemingly being proven wrong. At least insofar as it related to the Westwoods. Because of my mother, a lot of my world view had been shaped by who and what I’d thought they were.
When I left the coffee shop with my latte in hand, I was determined—once again—to get over it. Jesse had scared the crap out of me with his confession of love, but it had also left me with a lot things to think about. Until I knew what to do, I couldn’t keep wandering through my life in such a haze.
“Jacque!”
I frowned, startled out of my thoughts by someone calling my name. Turning to scan the busy street, I assumed it was probably one of the girls from the office, but then my blood ran cold when I saw Jane Westwood instead. Flanked by Kate Westwood and Eliza Westwood.
Well, at least Eliza is Westwood-Roderick, but still. That’s too many Westwoods for me right now. Way too many. Had Jesse unleashed the wives on me?
All three of them were hustling toward me, weaving through the crowd with shopping bags swinging from their arms. I watched their approach. Jane’s face lit up with a smile when they’d cut through the final group of pedestrians separating us.
“Jacqueline!” she said happily, like we’d planned to meet right here on the sidewalk.
Kate was smiling too, but she seemed more measured. Polite but observant, like she was reading the situation and hadn’t decided quite yet what to think about it. Meanwhile, Eliza looked like she was just along for the ride, having a lovely day.
