Tears rolled down Townsend’s cheeks. “I already have. I’ve been with…”
“Jenna,” Hennessy said, spitting the word out.
“Yes, Jenna. I didn’t expect this to happen, but it did.”
Her gaze was so hot it could have burned holes in Townsend’s body. If Townsend hadn’t seen this coming, she was trying not to. “You’ve done more than ‘date’ her.”
Her cheeks burned pink. “I have,” she said weakly. Looking up again, she said, “I wish things had been different, but I honestly think this is the best thing for me right now.”
Hennessy’s anger bubbled up in a way she was entirely unfamiliar with. “Well, that’s all that matters, isn’t it? Your happiness? Your sobriety? Everything has to go at your pace or you’ll jump off a cliff to punish everyone who loves you.”
Townsend was sobbing now and Hennessy wished she could punch herself in the face. “Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry I said that. I’d give anything to be able to take it back.” She put her hand on Townsend’s knee, expecting to have it slapped away. Instead, she was stunned by arms encircling her and pulling her into a crushing hug.
Her body was overheated and steamy, with tears wetting her face, eyes streaked with red. “I love you. I love you more than I will ever be able to tell you. But you’re going to be gone for a year, and I need some experience.”
“You need experience?”
There was a long pause as Townsend pulled away, then spent a few moments straightening her clothes, her hair. She didn’t even glance at Hennessy as she did this, and Hennessy got a glimpse of a polished adult who’d learned to tamp down her raw emotions. For a second, she wished Townsend was still the wild, unfiltered girl she’d met two years earlier. There was something about this Townsend that was almost chilling.
Quietly, Townsend finally spoke. “Yes, even a dirty little whore like me needs to learn how to be with someone while I’m sober.” A little of her fire came back when she grasped Hennessy’s shoulder and squeezed. “And you aren’t the person I want to run that experiment with.”
“You’re not a whore,” Hennessy said, biting her lip. “You’re the woman I love—with everything that I am.”
“Then let me go.” Townsend’s studied veneer dissolved as she choked on her tears. “Let me try to work some things out, to figure out who I am. A sober, sexual person.”
“So you’re just…playing around? With a Mormon who I assume is a virgin?”
Townsend’s eyes closed and she nodded. “We’re not just playing around, but…” Slowly, her gaze settled on Hennessy. “I’m not sure what this is. I guess we’ll find out.”
“How can you do that to her?”
With a piercing stare, Townsend said, “I’m honest with her, Hennessy. I care for her deeply, and I feel very protective of her. That’s never happened to me before, and I think it’s exactly what I need at this point in my life. I’ve been focused on myself for so long, that it felt wonderful—weird, but wonderful—to be more concerned about making it safe for her than for myself.”
“And that leaves me…?”
Body still shaking, Townsend managed to whisper, “I desperately hope there’s still a chance for you and me. I know it might never happen, but it’s a wish that will always burn in my heart. You’re a part of me, Hennessy—you’re the very best part. I love you more than I can say, and no matter what happens, I hope that’s always true.”
She stared at her hard. Not sure which of the things she’d just said were lies. “But you’re going to try to have a relationship with Jenna.”
“I am.” She sucked in a ragged breath, and stared out the window. A massive jet started to move backwards, ground crew carefully guiding it. If Hennessy could have run down there and jumped on, she would have. It didn’t matter where the damned plane was going, she just wanted to get as far away from Townsend as she could.
Her thin shaking voice continued, each word cutting deeper. “I’m as sorry as I’ve ever been for hurting you. And you of all people know I’ve got an awful lot to be sorry for.
“I do,” Hennessy said, hoping her cold words felt like a punch.
Townsend’s chin shook, but she kept going. She was clearly going to talk until Hennessy was lying dead on the ground, her heart pierced by a thousand arrows. “I think this is the right thing for both of us. You can go to France and open yourself up to anything. And I can try to help Jenna, at the very least, come to terms with something she’s struggled with for a long time.”
“I need…” Hennessy stood up and looked around, desperately needing to be gone. “I need a minute.” She jumped to her feet and took off down the concourse, blood pounding so hard in her head she couldn’t register the announcement a flat, robotic voice pronounced.
She’d never been so angry. Not even close. The long day at the jail flashed in her head. Townsend couldn’t understand why she wasn’t angry then, but it made so much sense. Then she’d had a slip, a momentary loss of control. This was different. This was a cold, calculating decision, made when she was stone sober. Townsend was putting herself first, ignoring how her choice would destroy Hennessy. It took a long time, but as she stalked up and down the corridor, dodging businessmen and their rolling suitcases, women pushing baby strollers, carts carrying disabled passengers, some of her anger dissipated. Not all of it, not by a long shot. But after a while, she felt able to talk.
Heading back to the area they’d claimed, Hennessy plunked herself down in the chair she’d occupied before. “I just needed to—”
“You’re angry, and I understand that.”
“Yes, I’m angry,” she said, her blood starting to boil again. “You could have told me a thousand different ways. You could have—you should have—told me you needed space between us. But you didn’t. You let me worry and fret and keep myself up half the night dozens of times worrying about you. About us. And that sucks!” She yelled the last sentence, immediately regretting it when a number of people walking past turned to stare at them. “I’m sorry for yelling,” she said, quieter now. “But I’ve suspected you were getting close to Jenna for months, and you didn’t have the decency to tell me. Like you were going to see if you could pull something off, and if not, maybe I’d get another chance.”
“Look,” Townsend said, her hackles clearly rising as she poked her in the chest with a finger. “You can have as many suspicions as you want, but I’m the one who knows what went on between Jenna and me. I suggest you take that high and mighty attitude and tone it down. Do you want to have a civilized conversation, or not?”
“Yes, yes I do,” Hennessy said, contrite. “I’m just…beside myself with anger and frustration. I feel like you lied to me, and I can’t tolerate that.”
“I did not—not once—lie to you. You can believe that or not, but it’s the truth.”
“Then tell me what happened,” Hennessy said, desperate for details. Some part of her was sure things would all make sense if she just had details. Her pulse was hammering in her veins, all sorts of images flooding her imagination. It was torture, but she had to know.
“I don’t think that’s smart.” Her head shook decisively. “But I want you to know this caught me by surprise.” She swallowed, looking like she was going to cry again. “I was down about your leaving for France—”
“Wait!” Hennessy said sharply. “This just happened?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“Why were you two together? Why wasn’t she back in Utah?” She dropped her face into her hands. “I don’t even know where you spent the summer.”
“We were in Vermont. My sponsor is there…it’s safer.”
“Jenna doesn’t have a sponsor.”
“No, she doesn’t. But she wants to graduate early, so she took a full load of courses this summer.”
“Shit,” Hennessy muttered. “Two weeks. Two goddamn weeks. I could have skipped working with Daddy and hightailed it back up here.”
Townsend gazed at her for a minute. �
��You didn’t.” Her eyes narrowed as her nostrils flared. “You could have come back to see me…to tell me you’re more certain about your sexuality, to ask me to wait for you…but you didn’t.”
“Daddy needs the help…” She trailed off, knowing she was talking out of both sides of her mouth.
Townsend held a hand up, showing she’d heard enough. “I told Jenna how hurt I was that you didn’t come up early or invite me down to Beaufort.” Her voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. “I told her I didn’t know where we stood, and that I thought you were afraid to dive in because of my drinking.”
“I’m not!”
“I said what I felt, Hennessy. That’s all I can do.”
Her gut twisted with anger, regret, shame. She was such a child! So unsure of Townsend’s resolve she’d let her slip right through her fingers. “So you decided to have sex with Jenna because I’m afraid of you.”
“No, of course not. I swear I’d never picked up on her being interested in me. I guess I wasn’t looking for it.” Lifting a hand, she rubbed at her temple for a moment. “I’ve never tried to be friends with anyone I didn’t want to fuck. I wasn’t sure how close you were supposed to get, wasn’t sure about anything…”
Hennessy felt a burst of empathy, in spite of her anguish and anger. Townsend was like a child in so many things most women their age had done dozens of times. Making and keeping a friend, something so simple, seemed to confuse the living hell out of her.
“She told me she was really attracted to me, and if I had feelings for her, too, she’d do her best to get rid of the bullshit her church and her family have been bombarding her with.”
Hennessy’s empathy floated away on the wind. Her voice was harsh when she said, “So you took her up on her offer.”
“Yes, I did. I still don’t know if I did the right thing, but I did what I thought was right. I don’t mean to sound like a saint, but my heart really went out to her. For a girl like her to fight through all of the shit she’s been told… I have a lot of respect for her trying to see if this is right for her.”
“And that’s enough?” Hennessy was stunned. “Feeling sorry for her? Feeling bad she’s had a bunch of negative messages is enough to make you go to bed with her?”
“I think it is,” she said, nodding with surprising confidence. “I need to spread my wings a little and get some experience. So does Jenna.” She stared at Hennessy with heat in her gaze. “I don’t feel like she’s my life raft. I don’t feel like I have to hold onto her or die.”
Her head spun, making her fear she’d vomit. Gripping the arms of her seat with a ferocious grip, she spit out the craziness of Townsend’s logic. “So you’re with her because she’s less good at making you feel safe. Because she loves you less than I do.”
It took another few moments for Townsend to speak. “I don’t use people anymore,” she said quietly. “I’ve told Jenna exactly how I feel about you. Neither of us thinks that we’ll be together until the bitter end. She’s just starting to deal with her feelings for women and she wants to see where those feelings lead her. I know what I want, but I didn’t think I’d ever get it—so I dove in.”
Her heart slowed its beat, as her blood pressure plummeted. Only one question mattered, and it mattered more than anything. Her voice shook, but she got it out. “Do you love her?”
“No.” She shook her head briskly. “But I think I could. She’s kind and thoughtful and a very good person. She’s a lot like you, Hennessy, and that’s why I’m willing to take a chance on this relationship.”
“And Jenna’s okay with the fact that you’re feelings are…divided at best?”
“I told her everything. That’s all I can do. I told her I’m not ready to settle down and get married, and that I’m in the market for a girlfriend, not a wife. I can’t be more honest than that.”
“And then you had sex.”
“That’s almost beside the point for me. I’m…I’m learning how to be open to another person.”
“What does that mean? You’ve always been open with me.”
“Sex is different,” Townsend said flatly. “I’ve been doing everything through a haze of alcohol since my first kiss. I’ve never been vulnerable with another person. I’ve never really shown anyone how my desire’s connected to my heart. It’s a whole new experience, and it’s been pretty amazing. Sometimes it’s terrifying, but sometimes it’s such a blissful feeling that I’m simply blown away.”
“I wanted to be the one to blow you away,” Hennessy said, her calm facade crumbling as she dissolved into sobs.
“I wanted that, too. But we might still have that one day. We might.”
She shivered, trying hard to control herself. Blubbering like a baby wasn’t going to help a damned thing. Consciously, she let Townsend’s words really sink in. No way. No fucking way. Her head shook sharply. “You’ve made your choice. I’d prefer it if we can just be friends from now on. I can’t have it any other way.”
“All right,” Townsend said quietly, as tears started to leak out once again.
She’d caused those tears. She’d used her words to take a swipe out of her. And she didn’t feel a hint of regret. Coldly, she looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go.”
But Townsend was a glutton for punishment. Instead of slinking away with her tail between her legs, she stood, held out her hands and pulled Hennessy to her feet. “Go to Paris. Enjoy it with every fiber of your being. Eat the food, drink a tiny bit of the wine, soak up the beautiful light. Be a kid, Hennessy. Be the kid you’ve spent the last ten years trying not to be.”
She nodded, unwilling to respond.
“Do you want me to write to you?”
Hennessy looked at her for a long time, gazing at the foreign planes of her face, unable to recognize the stranger before her. The thought of being in a new country, with no ties to the old one, was the only way. “I don’t think so. We’ve both got things to work out.”
Townsend bit her lip, tears flowing again. “I love you,” she said softly.
Hennessy hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, stared into those watery eyes for a moment, and said what would probably be her final words to the woman who made her world spin. “I wish you’d loved me enough to wait for me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Being away from home for the holidays was kind of awful. While Paris was everything she’d hoped for and more, Hennessy carried around a longing, a gnawing emptiness that caught her by surprise again and again.
Part of the longing was for her family, of course. She craved her gramma’s voice, to be enfolded in her rough embrace and smell the flecks of oil from the fryer that had become an integral part of her scent. Her eyes closed and her mouth started to water when she thought of Gramma’s oyster stew—what she’d give for a bowl of that right about now.
But it was Christmas in Paris, not Beaufort. Although it was cold and windy, it was also kinda magical. Christmas markets, buche de Noel in the épicerie, the magical lights trailing down the Champs Elysées. Everything was so different from home, it hardly seemed like the same planet.
In only four months, she’d gotten comfortable enough to move around the city and make herself understood—a big feat, given she had trouble sometimes in Boston. It helped to have American friends, of course.
Particularly Kate.
Hennessy looked across the living room of the suite Kate’s parents had rented for their family visit. If you were going to spend a ton of dough on a hotel room, it made a lot of sense to do it in Paris. Hennessy hadn’t been in many hotel rooms, but anyone would think this one was special. If Napoleon and Josephine came walking through the very tall doors leading to one of the bedrooms, she wouldn’t have blinked an eye. They would have fit right in.
Kate fit in too, which was surprising. A city girl from Chicago, as brainy as she was beautiful, she stretched out on a velvet chaise longue, sipping her tea.
“We should get back to our rooms,” she said, looking about as conte
nted as a cat lying in the sun. “We’ll need to dress up for the reveillon.”
Hennessy raked her teeth over her bottom lip nervously. This was going to be tough to get out of. “Uhm, I was thinking…”
“Yeah?” Kate sat up a little straighter. Golden hair, silky and straight as a pin, settled atop one shoulder, the black turtleneck highlighting the breadth of the shoulders she’d honed during her years of competitive swimming. Of course, nearly everything Kate did was competitive.
“Your parents would probably rather it just be the four of you for dinner. It’s Christmas, Kate. That’s family time.”
Kate stood and adjusted her jeans, getting them settled just right on her hips, then she moved across the spacious room and perched on the arm of Hennessy’s chair.
Having her close like this? Sweet torture. It was true what they said about a perfume tantalizing enough to drive a man—or a woman—crazy. She didn’t wear much, just enough to tickle your nose when you were close.
“You’re being silly,” Kate said, her rich alto voice as smooth as satin. “We want you to join us. Come on,” she teased, poking at Hennessy with a finger. “Come on. You know you want to. You can’t resist a big, traditional, French Christmas dinner.”
She was so damned lighthearted and playful. Who could look at her perfect, angular features and sky blue eyes and refuse her anything?
“I truly don’t want to be an imposition. My gramma didn’t complain, but I know she would have rather have had me alone at Christmas.” As always, just thinking about that magical time with Townsend made her breath catch. If she could get back the hours she’d spent crying over her, she’d have an extra month.
“My parents aren’t like that,” Kate soothed. Her hand went to Hennessy’s head and playfully ruffled her hair. “Come on now. Let’s go get ready. I want to hear you charm a waiter with your accent.”
“I don’t have an accent,” Hennessy maintained, one of their long-standing jokes. “I’m speaking perfect French. I bet I don’t sound a bit different than my great-great-great grandparents when they left France.”
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