by Leger, Lori
“Know what? What’s wrong?” He stepped forward and reached for her.
She avoided his grasp and walked around him. “Did you know about Toby and Chloe?”
“What about them?”
“They were having an affair. My husband and your wife.”
Jackson stood there, shaking his head. “That’s not possible.” He reached for her and she skittered around, avoided him again.
“I overheard the secretary at his office say that she saw them at a hotel. She said Chloe was all over him. Did. You. Know?”
He forced himself to remain calm, wondered how far he’d have to go to prove her wrong. “That never happened, Giselle.”
“Yes, it did. I have the proof!” She pulled the email print out from her pocket.
He read it and shook his head. “No, Toby was always faithful to you. I guarantee it. Oh, Chloe tried, but he turned her down. He’s one of a select few of my so-called friends who did turn her down. She set Red up years ago, and he turned her down, too. She hated him for it, of course, and she hated me for believing him. I was stupid enough to choose her over his friendship, and that’s why she wouldn’t allow him to be a part of my life for so long and why she destroyed anything of mine that pertained to LSU. Red was a part of it.”
“But I’ve got proof.”
“This?” He shook his head and flicked at the print out. “All you’ve got here is the ravings of a lunatic who’d do anything she could to set someone up. She was counting on you to find this and jump to the wrong conclusion.”
Giselle began to pace the floor in an agitated path. “I don’t believe that. I’m so stupid. The last person to know. I keep thinking of him in that hotel room with Ch-Chloe and I just can’t stand it. I could kill him if he was standing in front of me. I swear I could. I c-can’t believe he’d do that to me, Jackson.” She stopped, slapped her hands over her chest. “I’m so h-hurt that he’d do that to me. And to you, too. He claimed to love you like a brother. He did this to both of us.” Her tears spilled over her lashes onto her cheeks. “He-he didn’t think of his daughters. How can I talk to them about their father now? How can I do that without them sensing how hurt—how angry I am?” One agonizing sob escaped, then another. “I just don’t understand it. I don’t understand h-how C-Chloe even knew him. We didn’t hang around the same circles. The only common denominator is you. H-he must have wanted her badly to do that to b-both of us.”
Jackson took her in his arms, cradling her tightly. “Baby, please believe me. It never happened. I don’t know what that woman saw, probably Chloe just doing what she did best. Believe me when I tell you that behavior was normal for her. But Toby would never have done that to you. You and those girls were everything to him. I swear to you, Giselle, he loved the three of you too much to jeopardize that.”
She ripped the print out from his hands. “I know he d-did it! This email verifies that woman’s story, Jackson. She emailed him and c-called him her l-lover. He d-did it! He did! And I hate him for it!”
Jackson pulled her close as she collapsed into tears. He rested his chin on her head and closed his eyes, as he listened to her heartbroken sobs. He couldn’t stand by and see her in this kind of misery if he could prove Toby’s innocence. Thanks to Chloe’s letter … he could. Maybe—just maybe—he could convince her without actually showing it to her.
“Sit. I need to tell you something,” he said, seating her gently on his sofa and kneeling before her. “Do you remember me telling you about a letter that Chloe left with our lawyer?”
She nodded. “V-vaguely.”
“Well in that letter she talked about how she tried to get Toby to sleep with her, but that he wouldn’t do it. She even said she followed him to that hotel and tried to set him up, but that he still wouldn’t do it. She said he was the only one of my friends who hadn’t. It was in the letter. Believe me.”
Hope shined in her eyes. “Do you st-ill have the letter?”
Jackson squeezed his eyes shut. Why the hell had he kept it? Why hadn’t he thrown it out? “Giselle, please. Just trust me. Take my word for it. Toby was faithful—always.”
She sobbed again. “If I could just s-s-see the letter, J-Jackson. P-p-please!”
“Giselle—”
“If you have proof I n-neeed to s-see it. P-pl-lease!” she sobbed.
Here it was, the reason he’d kept Chloe’s letter. For this very moment. To keep his dead bitch of a wife from hurting this woman with more of her lies. He nodded, knowing there was no way around this. Praying for the best, he pulled his wallet from his pocket, removed the letter and began to unfold it slowly.
She extended her hand and he pulled it out of her reach. “I need to tell you something first.” He sat beside her, rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s my fault that she tried so hard to get Toby to sleep with her. She hated you, Giselle.” He winced at the ugly words, more so because he knew the absolute truth of them. “She hated you because of me.”
Giselle shook her head. “That doesn’t make any s-sense, Jackson.”
Jackson reached up to brush the tears gently off of her face with his thumb and nodded. “It will.” He handed her the letter and waited as she began to read.
Jackson—
If you’re reading this, then I suppose I’ve keeled over somehow. Hopefully in the middle of hot sex with anyone but you. I never planned on going before you. I planned on you dying first and making me a very wealthy widow. I’d be able to spend your money any way I wanted without your oh-so-tiresome ‘suggestions’ as to what I should do with it.
Now that I have your undivided attention, I want you to know one thing. I never loved you. You were a means to an end and a constant source of entertainment. I never wanted children. Not yours. Not anyone’s. I was not about to ruin my body by carrying around a growing lump for nine months. I’ve been on the pill for years. Shocked? I hope so. I do love it when I can shock you. You were getting desensitized to my actions. It was getting more and more difficult to shock you over the years. But, I digress. I just used getting my period every month as a handy excuse to perform the little act that I’ve perfected over the years. Tearing my hair out. Wailing about how unfair it was that I couldn’t have a child to love. Keeping you desperate to console me.
I played you, Jackson, and you never even knew it.
I’ve slept with nearly all of your friends, and they enjoyed it. I even slept with your best man during our wedding reception. I bet you didn’t know that, did you? Tanner Collins has proven to be of much use to me over the years. It’s been quite a challenge to keep both you and his fiancé in the dark. Challenging, but such fun. There have only been two fish that wouldn’t bite for me. Only two of your friends. That low class nobody, Red McAllister, and Toby Granger. I can’t abide Red. He’s always seen through me, and hated what he saw. That’s why he had to go. Not even to hurt you could I swallow my hatred enough to sleep with that piece of small town white trash.
As for Toby, I’ve tried to lure him in countless times; I emailed him, called him, followed him, even to a hotel once to try and set him up, but still nothing. He stayed loyal to that cow Giselle—I hate that simpering little fool—and he stayed loyal to you, although I have no idea why he’d do that. Especially knowing what I know about you.
Giselle clasped the letter to her heaving chest and cried out. Her head fell back in utter relief, as she finally got the proof that Toby had remained faithful.
He reached for the letter, praying she’d give it back without reading the rest of it. She gazed up at him, looking so relieved, and he thought for a moment she would—and she’d never have to know the truth. Then he saw it. The question. The why of it, and knew she wouldn’t stop until she had the entire story.
Jackson cringed as her head dropped to read the rest.
Did you think I didn’t know? That’s why I tried to get her husband to sleep with me. Because of your feelings for her. But they seem inseparable. The silver lining about all this is the fac
t that if I’ll never have him, then you’ll never have her. Ain’t love grand, Jackson? That being said, it’s still a mystery to me. How can one stupid, clueless woman have, not one, but two men madly in love with her? It boggles the mind.
Well, Jackson, it’s been a pleasure screwing with your head. I guess I should say something about what I want done with my remains. I don’t want any kind of church service and I sure as hell don’t want anyone gawking over my poor dead body. Have me cremated and have my ashes sent to my mother in California.
I hope you never forget me. I hope you’re tortured by the knowledge that you’ve wasted nearly half your life trying to please a woman whose greatest joy was to make you miserable.
See you in hell, loser!
Chloe
She lowered the letter, smoothed it flat, then refolded it. Jackson took a deep breath and prepared for the questions he knew were coming. He could practically see them forming in her mind. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Is this true?”
He nodded.
“But, we were so happy, Jackson,” she whispered.
He stood and turned away from her. “I know that. Believe me, had Toby lived, you never would have found out. Not by me, anyway. I couldn’t help the way I felt.”
“Why? When I treated you the way I did back then?”
Jackson stood, walked away from her. He ran his hands through his hair then turned to face her. “I don’t know why. One day you put me in my place for something, and instead of irritating the hell out of me like you usually did, I realized I admired you for it. I’d watch you when you told stories about the girls and your eyes would light up. I didn’t even know Toby at the time, but I was envious of the relationship you had with him. I’d see pictures of your family, and I wanted that life so badly, but one day I realized I didn’t want it with Chloe, or any other woman. I wanted it with you—only with you.”
“But, what about after you met Toby?”
He locked his gaze on his own feet. “After I met Toby, I knew why you were so happy with him. That man adored you and the girls. I met him at Carrie and Sam’s one day and we immediately hit it off. I didn’t want to pal around with him. It was strange at first. Too weird. Too damn depressing, knowing he had the only woman I wanted. But he kept pushing me, and I finally caved in. Toby became like a brother to me. I thought that being so close to him would change my feelings for you, but it didn’t. After the accident, when I made my way to your truck and saw him—” He stopped, swallowed the lump in his throat. “When I saw he didn’t make it, and you did, I knew how devastated you’d be. I couldn’t walk away from you and the girls. I had to try to help you in some way.” He wiped at his eyes.
She’d risen from the couch and walked over to him. “It must have been difficult for you. I was so awful to you.”
“I couldn’t stay away. I loved you too much, Giselle.”
She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face. “Does anyone else know?”
“The only person I ever told was Red a couple of years ago. Carrie and Uncle Bill said they’ve known for years.”
“Years?” She shook her head. “How did they know?”
This conversation was too much. He lifted both hands, tried to think of a decent answer, then let them fall helplessly to his sides. Overwhelmed by a sense of frustration and helplessness, he shook his head. “I don’t know I. Don’t. Know. I sure as shit never told them. All I know is that I felt bad for myself for losing my friend. You cannot imagine how confusing that was for me. Toby was a good man.”
“He was,” she sobbed. “And I should have had enough faith in him not to doubt that. I’m sorry Jackson.”
He finally allowed himself to relax. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He reached for her, grasped air instead when Giselle backed away from his touch.
“But I do. I’ve rushed into this thing with you, and I shouldn’t have.”
Dread washed over him like a giant tidal wave. “Don’t say that, Giselle.”
She shook her head. “When I thought Toby had been unfaithful to me, I was so shocked that a man who’d been dead for eight months could still break my heart. I was devastated, and surprised, because I thought I was over him. Now I know that I’m not. The truth is, I don’t know if I ever will be.”
His hand came up to stop the words. “Don’t! Don’t do what I think you’re doing. Please.” He reached for her.
She took another step away from him, toward the door. “I feel so bad for not giving him the benefit of the doubt. For not trusting him. I owe him this, Jackson. I owe him…”
He shook his head, panic taking hold of him. “You owe it to Toby to be happy. He’d want that for you. I knew him, too. I loved him, too, Giselle. Both Toby and Red. They’re the brothers I never had.”
Tears flowed freely down her face, dripped off her nose and chin onto his bare floors. “I don’t think I can do this right now. I’m sorry Jackson, I have to go. I have to get out of here.”
“Giselle.” He grabbed her hand when she tried to leave. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut before he pleaded with her one last time. “Please don’t do this. Don’t ask me to live without you. I can’t go back to that.”
“Don’t try to stop me. I can’t think like this.” She pulled her hand from his and backed away from him. She paused just long enough to give him one last miserable look. “I’m so sorry.” She left him then, closing the door behind her.
Jackson heard her drive away. Still, he stood with feet planted, both fists clenched, for a full, torturous five minutes after she left him. He stared at the door, hoping if he stared at it long enough, she’d walk back through to tell him she’d made a mistake.
Finally, he accepted that she wouldn’t.
His one chance at happiness had just walked out of his life. Maybe for good. What kind of cruel God could let him see and experience that kind of happiness, only to pull it out of his grasp again? The same kind of God who had ripped Giselle’s world in two when he’d taken Toby from her.
His mind flooded with memories of her and her girls. Ballgames, movies, yard work, sharing pizzas and chicken nuggets. He thought of the time he had spent alone with Giselle. Dancing, swimming, riding the Indian, and holding her beautiful body, kissing her beautiful mouth. Giselle—laughing, in pain, angry, and her eyes flashing with jealousy. Giselle—passionate, eyes closed, head thrown back in pleasure. How could he possibly go back to being alone when he’d already experienced a part of that life that he’d craved for so long? He couldn’t.
He fell to his knees, pain slicing through his heart. “Oh God, please. Don’t let her do this.” Finally, he stood, drained of energy, his soul heavy with sadness. He gazed around at his silent, empty house through eyes a shade darker with sorrow. He had to get out of here. He’d suffocate if he spent another moment in this house alone. Grabbing his bike keys from the wall rack, he entered the garage, pushed the button to open the door and mounted his bike. He started it, buckled his helmet and headed out, hoping to outrun the pain. Out to the street. Out toward the edge of the city. Out past Uncle Bill’s ranch. To the back roads where he could open up the Indian without with no other traffic. He turned onto the last route he and Giselle had ridden and accelerated. Kept accelerating until he felt the icy grip on his heart lessen with the increasing force of the wind blowing in his face.
Jackson saw the sharp curve up ahead in plenty of time, backed off the throttle. What he didn’t see was the object blocking the narrow roadway, smack dab in the center of the curve. He tried to avoid the cow, but hit it with a force that sent him flipping through the air toward the grassy pasture. Completely airborne, a solitary thought crossed his mind.
At least he wouldn’t have to live without his three girls.
Giselle shook with sobs the entire trip home, her heart racing with mixed emotions. On the one hand, relief that Toby had been faithful. On the other, racked with guilt over what she’d been so ready to believe of him. How co
uld she have lost faith in her husband so easily? In her thirteen year marriage so quickly? Then there was the utterly hopeless situation with Jackson.
She let herself inside and walked straight to her bathroom to rinse her face and soothe her swollen eyes. She studied the reflection staring back at her. The bright yellow shirt she wore seemed too cheerful, a total contradiction of what she felt. She’d been such a fool to believe she could build a future with Jackson so soon after losing Toby.
Most people didn’t find happiness like that once in a lifetime. It was too much to hope to find it twice. It wasn’t allowed. She’d never done a thing to deserve being that happy. She was lucky as hell that Toby had walked into her life and had been her perfect fit.
And poor Jackson. First he’d been saddled with Chloe, and then had the misfortune of falling in love with a woman who couldn’t be happy with anyone but her husband.
But she had been happy for a short time, when she believed she could move on. But, she couldn’t yet, could she? He said he loved her, and that he had for years. Don’t ask me to live without you. I can’t go back to that. His tortured plea came back to her, caused a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything crazy. Would he?
She lifted her bedroom’s landline phone, and dialed his home number. No answer. The voice mail beeped.
“Jackson, please call me when you get this.”
Giselle dialed his cell phone. No answer. She left the same message on that one, trying to sweep aside a feeling of dread. She stopped her pacing and headed for her truck. Keep busy, Giselle.
She hauled the boxes from Toby’s office into the house. Stay busy—do something productive. Seating herself at the dining room table, she began to go through the contents, sorting the objects, placing books in one pile, pictures in one, knick-knacks in another, etc. She pulled out his daily planner and thumbed through it, saw nothing of importance. Something to keep for the girls. She dropped it into a large manila envelope that had been inside his bottom desk drawer, caught sight of something at the bottom of it. She pulled out a snapshot and nearly stopped breathing.