I wanted to answer her, to forgive her, but I figured it was best if she finished with what she had to say first before I offered anything extra.
“I’m going to sign the papers. Today. I wanted to tell you in person and to apologize again for the hell I’ve put you through. My father—” She paused, taking a deep breath before she began again. “My father has been telling me for years to let you go, to let this go, but I was too broken, too bitter that things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to. I thought that I could bully you into wanting me back, even though I never really loved you. I thought I could control the way society saw me, saw us, saw my whole sham of a life, but that’s not how this works. There are so many more important things in life than fame and money and being at the top of the social ladder.
“My son may die, right here in this room, and what do I have to show for my life? Nothing. I’ve wasted it all being cruel and calculating when I could have been spending it with someone I really loved. I was so worried about making a name for myself, I almost lost the one thing that has ever meant anything to me. I may still lose him.”
Natalie looked at me, tears streaming down her pale face and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Jackson,” she said again, still shaking her head.
I wanted to comfort her in some way, but I didn’t know how and I didn’t think it was my place. “I forgive you,” I said instead.
She finally nodded. “Thank you, though I don’t deserve it. I think this is my punishment.” She waved a hand towards her son and began to sob again.
After several minutes, her cries subsided and she looked back up at me. “I’ll have my lawyer send the signed papers over as soon as possible. I hope that I didn’t destroy what you could have had with that woman, Liza. I could see how much she loved you that day in France, which, I think, pushed me to be even crueler to you because I was utterly alone.”
I nodded and gave her a small smile and paused a second before continuing. “I’ll let Frank know to expect the paperwork.”
I started to walk out of the room, needing to flee because I couldn’t contain the pain I felt for her at the possibility of losing her child. But when I reached the doorway, I stopped and turned around. There was one last thing I had to say to her.
“I’ll keep Christopher in my thoughts. I hope you can finally find happiness, Natalie, something to fill your heart where the emptiness that caused you to be the awful person you were before once lived.”
Natalie nodded. “I deserved that. I hope you’re happy too, Jackson. I really mean that. Don’t let the hateful ways of a stupid woman ruin happiness for you. I was wrong in holding what I did over your head and making you feel like it was something you should be ashamed of. Don’t be afraid to open up to Liza. I don’t think she will feel the way I did about all of it.”
With a nod of acceptance at what she said, I turned and walked from the room. I swiftly made my way from the hospital and Natalie’s grief. It was suffocating and all-consuming, and when I exited the hospital into the cold December air, I gulped it as if I were drowning. Her words infected my head, making it spin, as I made my way to where I parked my car in the garage. I couldn’t reconcile them with what I already knew, with what I thought about myself and the relationship I had with Natalie. The information she had on me was a bargaining tool but she didn’t think it would be a deal breaker with Liza. How could I tell Liza? Would she feel like Natalie, or would she accept me for who and what I was?
I shook my head as I got into the car and pulled my phone from my pocket. I wanted to call her, to ask her to let me explain. I wanted to explain everything—my distance, why I couldn’t open up to her, and where it all went wrong. Would she listen after all this time? After a week of shutting her out, would she be willing to hear me out?
I put my head in my hands and willed the right answer to come to me. But after several minutes, I realized it was there as if it had been there the whole time, something else Natalie said when I was in that room with her as she poured out her heart in apology. Natalie saw that Liza loved me. She could tell this from being in a room with us for under an hour and yet I hadn’t figured it out in over three weeks of being with her. If Natalie was right and Liza did love me, then I had wasted so much time worrying and “thinking,” when I should have talked to the one person who mattered the most. If I was to learn anything from Natalie’s experience, it was how much time could be wasted on extraneous things.
I had to call Liza and set it right, and I had to do it before it was too late.
I pulled on my coat and exited the classroom, jerking the door closed behind me until it clicked. Jitters filled my belly at the prospect of seeing Jackson after a whole week and telling him I was done. I let the doubts swish around in my uneasy thoughts before I tried to push them away for good. This was what I had to do for my own sanity and peace of mind, and I couldn’t let him draw me back into his games anymore. I loved him, that much was evident, but I wasn’t sure it was enough to make me wait around for him to grow up and decide to finally let me in.
The dilemma crowded my thoughts as I traveled uptown. It was amazing to me I was at this point in my life. I was the woman who declared to never let a man decimate and destroy her in the same way my mother destroyed my father. I kept men at arm’s length, never getting closer than I had to be until they ultimately gave up and walked away. Why I let it get beyond that with Jackson made no sense to me, except that it made perfect sense. He was an anomaly in my life. He was the one man who was able to push past my defensive walls and get inside, only to come to realize he didn’t want to be inside of my fortress at all.
But this was the last time I would make this mistake. Never again. Not with Jackson, not with anyone else. The walls of my garrison were firmly in place and fortified, and I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the subway and onto the street where his building was.
Steeling myself for the fight I knew was ahead of me, I clutched my bag to my chest as a barrier and walked up to the building.
“Mr. Radcliffe is expecting you,” the doorman said as I approached and I wondered how he knew who I was.
“Okay,” was my only response as he opened the door for me and insisted on pushing the elevator button for me as if I would suddenly change my mind and run away.
The elevator ride was tumultuous for me, my stomach a riot of butterflies as it hurtled towards Jackson’s penthouse. It took several deep breaths and a doubling over to lean on my knees to gather myself enough to step from the elevator. Maybe my fortress walls weren’t as firmly in place as I thought. This was likely a terrible idea. Giving myself a pep talk, I walked down the hall to his door and lifted my hand to knock. Before my fist even made contact with the door, it swung open.
“Liza, thank you for coming.” Jackson stood in the doorway, his large frame obliterating all of the room behind him.
My heart faltered and my stomach clenched at the sight of him. He looked even more beautiful than I remembered, with a rogue curl hanging over his forehead and thick, dark stubble covering his cheeks. The businessman I was used to had transformed into a rugged god in the week since I last saw him, and my resolve weakened even further. This was definitely a dangerous idea.
“Come in.” He stepped back, waving me inside, and I hesitated a minute before my feet finally moved forward.
I had to lay it all on the table before he began and as I followed him into the kitchen, I thought about what I would say to him in my head, made a list of things to rebuke any request, before he even began to talk.
He stopped at the island, pulling out the stool for me to sit. I shook my head.
“I won’t be staying long,” I began, standing firmly in the spot I resided. “Say what you have to say because I have to get back to work.” I was lying about this but I wanted to make it clear I was in a hurry and couldn’t stick around. Truthfully, I was worried about how I would react if he touched me. I wasn’t sure I could resist if he did.
“Liza, I know I h
aven’t been very forthcoming with you lately.”
“That’s an understatement.”
He held up a hand for me to let him finish. “And I’ve been pushing you away every chance I get. But, I’m done with all of that.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him and couldn’t help the snort that escaped at his words. “Really?”
Jackson didn’t smile or smirk or give me any indication he was being cheeky. “Yes, really. I saw Natalie today…”
“You did? Why?” For a minute, I forgot about my vow to not touch him.
His eyes widened and shot to where my hand rested on his forearm. The air was suddenly too thick to breathe and I pulled my hand away, like he had burned me.
Jackson shook his head as if to clear the fog that clouded it from the contact and continued. “I went to see her, at the hospital. The baby isn’t mine.”
A weight seemed to lift from my chest at his words, though I told myself it didn’t mean anything to me anymore. Because I was done.
“That’s good news for you.” I chose my words carefully, keeping an emotional distance.
“Liza, I know you’re upset with me—”
“I’m not upset.” I bit the words off quickly, too quickly.
“Right.” He said the word with hurt instead of irritation. “Regardless, I had to let you know I was wrong. I was wrong, the way I handled getting close to you, and I was wrong with the way I kept you in the dark about my life. It wasn’t fair and Natalie reminded me of this when I saw the pain she was in over the state of her baby. Life is too short to shut out those you love. I, of all people, should know this after losing my mother.”
I opened my mouth to speak but paused instead, closing it tightly as I thought about his words.
Those you love.
The words repeated themselves over and over again in my head. What was he saying? Did Jackson just profess his love to me?
“What did you just say?” I asked him, interrupting him as he elaborated about Natalie and how she apologized to him, none of which was sinking in.
“What?” He stopped talking and looked at me with confusion.
“What did you say, before the Natalie thing?” I needed to make sure I wasn’t hearing things that I wanted to hear.
Jackson looked at me for a beat before understanding dawned in his eyes. That was when I realized he didn’t say it intentionally because he looked as surprised as I felt.
The look on his face changed, from one of shock to one of resolve. He looked into my eyes, his deep brown gaze causing a flush to creep up my neck with the way he stared. “I said, life is too short to shut out those you love.” This time, it was deliberate and measured, and my stomach flip-flopped with the implications of his words.
“What are you saying?” I whispered.
Moments ago, I arrived at Jackson’s apartment with the intention of telling him I was done with everything. I was done waiting around, done with the games, and I was done with being a doormat. What changed? He said that he loved me, but did he understand what that meant? Was he going to change his mind when he felt like I was getting too close again?
“I’m saying that I love you, Liza.” Jackson captured my gaze again, his face sober as he said the words.
I wanted to cave, to give in to the profession of love my heart had been holding onto for so long, but I couldn’t. Jackson Radcliffe had pulled away from me emotionally and physically one too many times already, and I wasn’t sure I had it in me to wait for it to happen again. He had ripped my heart out one too many times and his words weren’t working to replace it to its proper place in my chest.
“I can’t do this, Jackson,” I finally said, shaking my head from side to side as if to dislodge my refusal.
“What?” It was Jackson’s turn to be confused.
I watched the look on his beautiful face as it dawned on him I wasn’t going to reciprocate the feeling. Confusion turned to hurt, which quickly gave way to something else. It looked like anger but I was almost certain it was a result of the hurt he was trying so hard to cover up. My heart ached with the need to repeat the words he just said but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was afraid, I could admit that, but I was also angry. I was angry he thought he could do this to me and then tell me he loved me and I would forget everything else. How was I supposed to forget he walked away from me, without a word, after everything we shared when we were in France?
“I’m sorry, Jackson.” I shouldn’t have apologized but I did. “I have to go.”
I stood up, clutching my bag to my chest, and headed in the direction of the door.
“Liza, wait,” Jackson called after me with a hint of desperation in his voice.
I ignored him because with every step I made towards the door, my heart urged me to turn around and accept everything he was offering. It occurred to me he hadn’t offered anything though, only stated that he loved me. I pulled the door open and stepped out. When I tried to close it behind me, Jackson caught it before I could.
“Liza, didn’t you hear anything I said?” The desperation was back again and I wanted to cry with how torn I felt about leaving.
“I can’t, Jackson.” The words were all but a whisper because he was so close, his body inches from mine as I tried to escape, keeping me there in the doorway.
“Why?”
The question caught me off guard because I expected him to protest. I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again quickly. I was going to apologize again but I had nothing to apologize for. He did though.
Outrage replaced any other emotion I was feeling before. “Are you really so blind to what you did?” I wanted to say more but the thoughts were moving so fast in my head, I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
I had to tell him. How did he not know how much he hurt me when he sent me away without a backward glance after I poured my heart out to him?
“Liza, you have to understand—”
“No, Jackson, you have to understand. I don’t open up to people. I barely open up to Nicolette and we’ve been friends for a while. I trusted you, you made me believe in something that wasn’t there. I thought I had no one to blame but myself for being so naïve that I thought you would actually change for me, but I can’t take all the blame for this. You are just as responsible as I am.”
I pushed past him and into the hallway, fuming with rage. We stood there, not speaking, staring at each other. My mind was still whirring, around and around in circles. I was fighting with myself, warring with wanting to be free of the drama and the pain of wanting Jackson and giving in to him. A thought occurred to me, a way out, without the fight and the arguments which were sure to end with nothing but me underneath him. I needed a clean break and this was my one shot. I loved Jackson but I wasn’t able to keep up with his mood swings and ever-changing whims forever. Because of that, I blurted out the one thing I knew would change his mind about everything.
“It’s been a month. The charade is over. You don’t have to pretend any longer.”
I waited for a response and clarity about my statement came quickly. The look in his eyes said everything and my words had the desired effect. He shut down, closed off the emotions I saw before, shuttering away what he really felt because my words cut deep. They implied I was only acting, that this was all a game to me. That couldn’t have been further from the truth but I needed him to believe it.
“Oh. Well, I guess that’s settled then.” His voice was deep and cold, and it jolted directly to my heart, making me pause for a minute to catch my breath.
I wanted to come clean again, to tell him the truth. I wanted to declare I loved him because I couldn’t take the sudden coldness. But I got back the desired reaction I was aiming for when I spit out the statement like a dagger straight to his heart. I felt the need to say something, anything, before I walked away even though his body language had changed again to show he was finally ready for me to leave.
Clearing my throat around the developing lump, I finally spoke. “
Thank you for everything. I’ll see you around, Jackson.”
He nodded but didn’t answer me, his face a mask of ice and indifference. I deserved this, I just rejected him. Nodding back at him, I turned, still clutching my bag to my chest as if it would protect me, and headed towards the elevator. I wanted to turn around but I didn’t because I was afraid of what I would see. Or maybe I was afraid of what I wouldn’t see. This was what I wanted, to break this off before I could be hurt any further. As I exited the building, waving limply at Jackson’s doorman as I walked down the street, I repeated, this is for the best, this is for the best, over and over in my head.
But if it was for the best, why did it feel so awful?
* * *
I walked aimlessly for a while, uptown, with no purpose. I should have gone home but I couldn’t bring myself to head that way. My heart was shattered, more so than it was before. This was my own doing. I wanted to believe I had made the right choice but now I wasn’t so sure. At the moment, in my anger and disappointment from the weeks before, I felt like I was doing the right thing. If Jackson truly loved me, he wouldn’t have pushed me away on so many occasions.
The cold of the darkening December evening barely registered as I slowly made my way towards the park. I wanted to get lost in the trees for a bit, though I knew it was dangerous to be in the park at night. None of it mattered anymore and I wondered why I felt so much worse now than I had the whole week I waited to hear from Jackson. Maybe it was because this felt final, complete, and truly over. I had nailed the final nail into the coffin of our relationship myself and as that thought sank in, I fell deeper into despair.
“Liza Deveroux?” I heard from behind me and jumped as I turned around to see who it was.
I didn’t recognize her at first—her coal black hair was limp and hung in greasy hanks down her shoulders, her eyes were dark-rimmed and red, and her clothes not as high-end and polished as the last time I saw her.
One Night Page 27