Promise to Keep

by Jessica Wood

  “Well, I should go see her, then,” I ended up saying instead. “Bye.” I felt my stomach clench in guilt as I forced my legs to move and walk past her.

  “Wait.” She turned and took a step toward me.

  I stopped but didn’t turn around to meet her gaze.

  “Can we talk?” There was a crack in her voice that tore at my insides.

  We stood there in silence for what seemed like forever before I finally spoke. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” I said honestly.

  “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I…”

  “It’s all in the past. Let’s just leave it all in the past and not dwell on it.” My jaws tightened as I tried to work through my feelings.

  “I called you a few months ago,” she blurted out. “I…I wanted to talk to you and tell you everything…I still do.”

  Emotions whirled inside me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear about the feelings she had for my father or details about their relationship or why it was all okay. I’d heard enough of those reasons from my father the few times we’d spoken to each other after the incident. I didn’t need to hear them repeated by the woman who’d broken my heart as well.

  “I know you called,” I said flatly. I remembered that night clearly. It was around three in the morning when she’d called. In my half-asleep state, I hadn’t looked at the caller ID when I’d picked up. But when I didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line, I hung up. It wasn’t until then that I realized who had just called.

  “You did?” I heard the surprise in her voice. “How come you hadn’t mentioned that?”

  I didn’t turn to look at her. I wasn’t sure I could. “You called in the middle of the night and you didn’t say anything when I had answered. So I knew you must have called me by mistake. I didn’t think it was anything I needed to mention again.”

  “Oh.”

  “I should go see your aunt now. My train back to New York leaves in a few hours.”

  “You’re leaving already?” I could hear the surprise and disappointment in her voice. “I thought maybe we could…”

  There was a part of me that wanted to stay and talk to her, but there was a bigger, and stronger, part of me that wasn’t ready to face her. “Yeah. I need to head back. The wedding’s over so there’s nothing here that I need to stay for.” I felt awful the second I heard the words come out of my mouth.

  “Right.” Her voice was strained and then she paused before continuing quickly. “Well, enjoy your visit. I gotta go.”

  I turned around toward her, immediately regretting my words. But when I did, she was already running halfway down the corridor toward the parking garage.

  I thought about chasing after her, but I stopped myself. What would I say? What would it accomplish? So instead, I turned back around and headed to Aunt Betty’s hospital room. I tried to push away the feeling, but a heaviness took residence inside my chest as I imagined Chloe running away from me with tears streaming down her face.

  ***

  “Jackson, it’s great to see you again.” Aunt Betty beamed at me as I walked in to her hospital room.

  “Hi, Aunt Betty. How are you feeling?” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Not bad. They gave me something for the hip, so I’m feeling better. Luckily I didn’t fracture anything so I won’t need any surgery, but they want to keep me here for the next day or so to run some more tests.”

  “That’s good to hear.” I felt relieved by the news. Aunt Betty was such a kind person, and she’d gone through so much since I’d known her. I didn’t want to see her in pain. “Oh, and this is for you. I hope it’ll brighten up your day a bit.” I handed her the bouquet of tulips.

  “Oh, you’re such a sweet child, Jackson. They’re beautiful.” She took the flowers and smiled at them. “But are you sure you got these for me?” she asked as she looked up at me with a curious smile on her face.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, feeling a sense of unease by her question.

  She grinned at me. “You know that tulips are Chloe’s favorite. You used to get them for her when she needed cheering up.”

  “I actually forgot about that when I’d gotten these,” I admitted as a wave of guilt washed over me. I wasn’t sure why I’d picked up the bouquet of tulips among the various flowers that’d been available that morning at the floral shop. But when I saw the tulips, I’d smiled and gravitated toward them. Was I thinking about her without even knowing it?

  Aunt Betty didn’t respond for a moment, but simply studied me. “Jackson, can I be frank?”

  “Sure. Of course.” I felt my body stiffen and braced myself for whatever she planned on saying.

  “Is everything okay between you and Chloe?”

  I swallowed uncomfortably when I heard her unexpected and direct question, and I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Why do you ask that?” I finally asked, trying to stall for time.

  There was a brief moment of silence and I could tell she was considering something. When she finally spoke, I noticed her voice changed and became more serious. “Jackson, Chloe told me that you guys aren’t friends anymore.”

  “She did?” I felt the blood drain from my face. I wasn’t sure why, but I’d never told anyone about what happened between me and Chloe nine years ago. I’d never once admitted to anyone, but Chloe, that we were no longer friends and that I hated her. But now hearing Aunt Betty say those words, it felt like a punch in the stomach. In a way, it made what happened that night years ago more of a reality.

  Aunt Betty nodded. “She told me everything.” She paused. “I can’t imagine how you must have felt that day when you found out, and I know you might not want to hear this, but believe me when I say that Chloe didn’t want you to find out that way. I think she felt so ashamed by what was going on that it got to a point where she didn’t want you to know at all.”

  Shock flooded through my system as I took in her words. I didn’t know if I wanted to talk about what had happened with Aunt Betty, but seeing her calm demeanor as she tried to justify Chloe’s actions caused me to question what she knew. How could she not be upset by the fact that Chloe had a relationship with my father?

  “I’m not sure what to say.” I felt the need to defend myself. “If you want me to forgive her, I’m not sure I can do that. I think that’s asking a bit too much.”

  She gave a solemn nod of her head. “I know. I understand. I’m not asking you to forgive her, Jackson. I know it’s none of my business and this is something between you and Chloe. All I am asking is for you to try to hear her out and maybe keep an open mind.”

  “An open mind? What do you mean by that?” I searched her face for answers. “What do you know that I don’t?”

  She frowned and I noticed how sad she was at that moment. “I shouldn’t be the one to tell you everything that she went through. I think you should hear it directly from her. But I have a feeling that if I don’t say anything, you will continue to be mad at her without wanting to knowing why.”

  I wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that I knew the reason I was mad at her. I wanted to tell her that Chloe made it clear to me that night that she had feelings for my father. I wanted to tell her that that Chloe had picked him over me, that Chloe had been romantically involved with my father without ever thinking to tell me, without ever considering my feelings. But something stopped me from voicing my thoughts, as if saying them out loud would bring back all the pain I’d felt the day I’d found out about their relationship. So instead of voicing my disagreement, I decided to listen to what Aunt Betty had to say.

  “So what I will tell you is this: she wasn’t an escort for herself, or because she wanted to. It was the opposite. It was the most selfless thing anyone could do, and she did it to help me and Tom.” Her words ended in a whisper as tears fell down her face.

  I stared at her in complete silence, unable to comprehend what she’d just said.

  “Escort? What? Did you just say
she was an escort?” I finally managed to ask. My mind whirled with a million thoughts but I couldn’t seem to grasp onto anything specific to focus on. I must have misunderstood what she’d just said.

  “You didn’t know that?” She looked at me in surprise. “Oh my, I…”

  I shook my head. “No. She didn’t tell me. She just said she needed money—” I paused, feeling another pang of guilt wash over me. “—but then I stopped listening to her.” I felt a lump develop in my throat. “How come she didn’t ask me for help though? I could have given her the money. Why did she have to turn to something as debasing as selling her own body?” Then another thought flashed through my mind. “Was my father a client?” I asked incredulously, unable to believe that any of this could be even remotely true.

  Aunt Betty looked away. “You should really talk to her about this. I feel like I’ve already said too much.” She paused. “But to answer one of your questions, I will say that she needed a lot of money at that time—more than you could have helped her out with.”

  “But that’s still not a good reason to turn to something like escorting!” I heard my voice rise as a mixture of anger, confusion, and guilt consumed me. “Why didn’t she at least ask for help?”

  She sighed. “You’ve known Chloe for most of your life. You know she has a lot of pride and doesn’t want to ask for help. Before she lived with us, she’d learned to take care of herself and face her problems alone. I don’t think that instinct ever left her, even when she moved in with us and we were there to help her. She’s always wanted to be independent and be able to solve her problems on her own. Even with me and Tom, she always resisted our help and didn’t want to depend on us. I think one of her biggest fears is to be a burden on someone else.” She let out a deep sigh. “I think with the way her mother left her, she was always scared that she’d become a burden to us and make our lives harder, and she didn’t want to live with the guilt if something bad were to happen to us as a result.”

  Everything Aunt Betty had said was true. I’d noticed this about Chloe as well. But it still didn’t take away the hatred I’d felt for Chloe for hurting me. “But I’m—I was her best friend. She should have at least told me she was about to become an escort! Why did she keep it from me? And why had she been sleeping with my father of all people?” An image of that night flashed before my eyes, and I felt all the anger and pain return. “How can I forgive her for something like that? How can you ask me to have an open mind when she had been sleeping with my own father?”

  She nodded as if she understood my frustration and anger. “I know, Jackson. She should have told you about what we were going through after the car accident and why she decided to become an escort. She should have told you about your father. I don’t think it was a matter of her not wanting to tell you. I think she had wanted to tell you. And she had planned on telling you as soon as things had happened.”

  “So why didn’t she tell me? She apparently had at least a whole year to do so.” I cut her off, frustrated by what I was hearing. How could Aunt Betty possibly believe that Chloe had wanted to tell me everything when she clearly kept it from me for over a year?

  Aunt Betty shook her head. “That’s something you’ll have to ask her. I actually don’t know that part. All she had said was that something had caused her to change her mind and she decided not to tell you. But she wouldn’t tell me what had changed her mind.”

  I frowned, dissatisfied with that answer. It wasn’t enough for me.

  As if reading my mind, Aunt Betty continued. “Just think about it, Jackson. You’ve known her since she was seven. Do you really believe it’s like her to keep something like this from you without an understandable reason? Do you really believe she’s the type of person who would intentionally hurt her best friend, the boy she’s loved since she was seven?”

  Her last words took me by surprise. “She didn’t love me then. She never told me.”

  Aunt Betty gave a light chuckle and shook her head. “Jackson, I know you’ve loved Chloe for as long as she’s loved you. Have you once told her?”

  I didn’t answer her, but her words stayed with me. As much as I wanted to remain angry with Chloe, I felt the solid fortress of hatred I’d built around my heart for her begin to crack and crumble.

  To my surprise, there was also another emotion I’d been feeling that I hadn’t expected: relief. Maybe it would have been more natural for me to be upset knowing now that Chloe had been an escort and had slept with men—including my father—for money. But surprisingly, I was more relieved than upset about this. After what had happened, I’d always thought that I’d been played a fool, that I’d been lied to, that her feelings for me had all been a farce. I thought that Chloe wasn’t the person I’d thought she was. I thought I didn’t know her at all.

  But now I wondered if I’d been wrong all along. It was then that it hit me. Since that night nine years ago, I had selfishly built this hatred for her based solely on my own emotions and how she’d hurt me. I’d judged her like a total stranger would have passed judgment on her. I’d somehow discounted the previous fourteen years I’d known her, the fourteen years she’d been my best friend, the previous fourteen years I’d loved her. I’d always thought she’d slept with my father because she didn’t have the same feelings I’d had for her, and that rejection had blinded me. I’d made assumptions about her reasons for sleeping with my father without ever once wondering if that was the Chloe I’d known, without ever once giving her a chance to explain her side of the story. In the last nine years I’d hated her, I’d never once wondered if she had a good reason for what she’d done, if her reasons had nothing to do with me and how much she’d hurt me. Instead, I’d only hated her and that hatred bled through every fiber of my being and every part of me that loved her.

  When I left the hospital half an hour later, I was riddled with guilt as I let my conversation with Aunt Betty sink in. My mind went back to everything that’d happened in the year leading up to that night I’d made love to Chloe. I remembered Chloe going through some problems after the accident, but I was too involved with my fraternity and college to really pay attention or be there for her. I knew I’d upset her several times, especially the time she’d come to visit me unannounced. But at the time, I didn’t think anything of it. Had she tried to tell me, but I’d been too involved with my own life to know? Had she been going through a tough time and I hadn’t been there for her?

  Aunt Betty was right. She’d been my best friend and I’d known her better than anyone else had. I’d used that night as the reason to convince myself that I hadn’t known her at all. But if I’d taken the time to really think things through rationally, I should have known that something hadn’t made sense. It wasn’t like her to have done what she did without a good reason.

  I clenched my fist as I started to feel the anger rise within me. But this time, it wasn’t directed at Chloe. It was directed at the situation we were in. I felt feelings of confusion and guilt wash over me—confusion for not knowing what had been wrong with Chloe in college and guilt for not realizing that something had been wrong.

  I’d once thought my love for her was unconditional, that I’d love her until my last dying breath. But I realized then that I’d been wrong. My love for her had been juvenile and selfish. I’d never told her how I really felt. And yet, like a coward, I’d slept with other women because I wanted to test her and because I thought she wasn’t interested in me. I’d even encouraged her to sleep around herself.

  Today, after all these years, I finally realized that the explanation I’d created in my mind for her betrayal may not be the reality. Now I wondered how desperate and low she must have felt to go through with what she had done.

  As I drove back home, I felt torn over how I felt about Chloe, the girl who’d been my best friend for most of my life, the girl who I’d loved more than anyone else, the girl who’d broken my heart. Now that I knew there was more to the story than what I knew, could her reasons be enough
for me to forgive and forget what’d happened nine years ago? Could I really get over what I’d seen that night? Could my feelings for her ever be as pure and true as they’d been before that night?

  I didn’t know.

  But what I did know was, I had to see her and this time, I had to listen to her side of the story.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  November 2000

  Sixteen Years Old

  CHLOE

  I couldn’t stop grinning as I stared at the shiny laminated card clutched in my hands. Having a learner’s permit didn’t just mean I was now able to practice driving behind the wheel of an actual car, it meant I was one step closer to freedom. Jackson had teased me mercilessly when he received his before me and I couldn’t wait to show him that he was no better than I was now.

  “Bet you’ll fail!” he had taunted me over burgers and fries after I told him I was going to the DMV for the exam the next day. “That test is brutal! All trick questions! Most kids don’t pass it the first time, but of course I did because you know me, I’m a freaking genius.” He flashed me a boyish grin that only further complemented his natural charm.

  “Bullshit! You don’t scare me,” I said as I playfully threw a ketchup-coated fry at him. But the truth was, he had passed his first time.

  I stayed up for hours that night memorizing the study guide book in preparation. If he was right and I failed, it would be beyond humiliating, because it meant that he would have bragging rights over me forever, and I knew he wouldn’t let me live it down.

  When Aunt Betty drove me to the DMV the next morning, I felt queasy and my eyes stung from the little sleep I had gotten the night before. At first, the questions blurred across the page, and I had to blink several times and force myself to concentrate. When the test finally came into focus, I saw that the questions were hard. But thanks to Jackson, I knew almost every answer. When the clerk handed me back my paper, I’d scored a ninety-five percent. I squealed with excitement as I jumped up and down at the counter.

  “Very good, young lady. This is the best score I’ve seen all week.” The clerk had said as she directed me to stand behind the white line and smile for the camera. Just a few minutes later, she handed me the card, fresh from the lamination machine. I smiled to myself as my hand touched my still-hot driver’s permit.