Authors: Maya James
A car
met us and brought us to the resort where our room was waiting. The place is as
gorgeous as its’ website promised and Trisha was in heaven.
We've
had salt rubs and foot scrubs already, and there's more to come—at least for
Trisha and Lena.
I'm due
to bail out on them soon. We started heading back from lunch when Lena uses her
huge eyes to remind me that I have to go. I have about a twenty minute drive
there and then back, plus I don't want to rush it if I get in the door. If I
don't, we designed another window for a second attempt into tomorrow's
itinerary.
I hold
my stomach as we leave the elevator, but I don't draw any attention to it. It's
not long before Trisha sees it. "Are you okay, girl?"
I throw
in a convincing wince of discomfort. "I'm fine. Something's just not
agreeing with me from lunch."
Groundwork
laid.
It's
actually not far from the truth, my stomach is tied up in knots and has been
for weeks. This shit just needs to be over, one way or another. I don't like
lying to Justin and really don't like fucking around with his life.
Once
we're in the room, I put my phone on silent mode and passed it to Lena. If
Justin is tracking it, he'll think I'm with them the entire time. I have my
burner phone if I need help. I want this to happen today; I'm going to need the
down time tomorrow. It's becoming sickening, and my patience for it is long
gone.
"Ladies,
I'm feeling worse," I tell them. "If it doesn't go away, I want you
guys to go without me."
"Absolutely
not!" Trisha barks. "We'll wait for you."
Adamantly,
I tell her, "No—I don't want anyone waiting. I'm not having you guys miss
anything because of me."
"We'll
go," Lena says compassionately, giving Trisha a look that tells her I'm
embarrassed and let me off the hook. Trisha is quickly on her side and believes
they are helping me by going.
"Okay,
Sweetie," Trisha says in a voice full of empathy. "Maybe you can join
us if you feel better?"
"I'll
call you in between treatments," Lena offers, taking control of the
situation.
I
concede and head to the bathroom to wait for them to leave. Lena makes sure
they say goodbye so I can count the minutes before heading out, and by the time
they are being wrapped up in some goop, I'm in a rental car trying not to vomit
the closer I get to my destination.
Blake
Shelton is singing "Boys 'Round Here" through the car. I haven't
bothered trying to find another station and I'm just fine with Blake calming me
down and making me smile. Nothing else is keeping my mind off things.
Blake
came and went and someone else is belting over the speakers now. I don't know
who or what it is, don't even care. I'm parked in front of her house, just
staring at it.
I
haven't even shut off the engine yet.
Apparently
I'm still debating, even now, about doing this. The fucking house is watching
me, wondering what I'm going to do, and I still don't know.
Get
it done! Now!
Shit!
I yank
the door open so hard the little fucker comes back at me and I have to stop it
with my foot. Dammit!
I slide
out and slam the door behind me, my feet pounding the sidewalk. No more
hesitations. I clear the walk and press the doorbell.
Is
she not even here?
There's
an approaching shadow in the window. She's here.
There's
a click in the door and it opens. Standing in front of me is a beautiful woman
of about forty-five. She has on jeans and a blue top that shows just enough of
her curves. Her facial features are so familiar it's like a punch in the
stomach.
"Nicolette
Sumpter?" I ask.
"Yes,"
she answers. I recognize her voice from the phone; thankfully she hasn't
recognized mine yet.
"I
know this is hard for you, but we
have
to talk," I say to her.
"I'm Charity Powers—I'm a friend of your son—Justin.
Her
face turns white as her knees buckle. I watch her grab her front door for
balance. It only lasts for a few seconds before she regains herself, pulling
herself straight by the edge of the door. "I had a feeling you might try
again," she says. "But this, coming all the way here, takes big ones.
You must love him."
"More
than life," I reply.
She
smiles, and it's Justin in her face. "Good! I'm so happy he found that in
his life." Justin's mother stares at me for a moment. "Even if I shut
the door, you're not going away are you?"
I shake
my head.
"Then
you should come in," she says as she steps out of the way of the door.
Her
house is very nice inside; the small foyer and the walls in the hallway are a
soft yellow, and the living room and kitchen are a sage green that creates a
warm and inviting atmosphere—that I know I'm going to shit all over in a few
minutes.
We
walked into the kitchen. She motions for me to have a seat and asks if I want
something to drink. I'm telling her no while she's putting a glass of water on
the table in front of me.
"Yes,
you do," she says. She sounds like JP with a vagina.
It
would have pissed me off except for two things; this is where Justin gets his
JP personality and I did really want the water. I pick it up and down a few
large gulps that stab at my throat.
"You
want to know why I left? You think there must be a reason, and it might be good
for Justin to know it?"
"Exactly,"
I admit. "If there's no good reason, I'll let it go. If what he was left
to believe is the truth or close enough, then he's dealt with it and he is
where he needs to be. But he realized something about his father that he was
wrong about all these years, and it made him a better man; more content with
himself, and if there's more to learn about you, he deserves it."
She
looks at me funny. "You lied to him, didn't you? He doesn't know you've
been looking for me, or that you're here right now, and that it's eating you
up?"
My
nervous smile is her answer.
Her
eyes drop to the table softly. "If you had to hide it, that must mean this
is a big risk for you, he'd be furious if he knew—maybe even break up with
you?"
"Yes,"
I answer in the smallest voice I've ever heard come out of me.
"Why
risk it?" she asks compassionately.
I find
some confidence. "Because he's worth it. I want him to be complete, even
if it costs me his love."
She
doesn't say anything.
"That's
probably hard for anyone to understand—"
"No,"
she interrupts me mid-word. "I understand it perfectly. I understand it,
maybe just as much as you do." The emotions in her voice are so intense
they make me want to cry. "He means more to you than you mean to yourself.
I've loved someone that much, actually, three men have meant more to me than my
own happiness." Her tears are falling now, and she makes no attempt to
hide them. "Justin's father was the greatest romantic love I will ever
know; I have never gotten over him. And Justin, my son. Giving him up—there is
no way to explain that kind of hurt. My actions don't show it, but I love him
very much to this day."
Nicolette
suddenly buries her face in her hands and sobs in immense chest-heaving bursts.
My arms are around her before I knew I was going to do that.
"We
might be more alike than you wanted," she whispers through her wet hands.
"But I'm thrilled that you love my son so much that you would ruin
yourself for him. You don't know what that means to a mother to know her son
has found that."
She
pulls her face from her hands and sits up, trying to compose herself. I let her
out of my embrace and lean back in my chair.
"You
said three?" I ask softly. "You said there were three men you loved.
Justin and his father—who was the third?" My voice treads lightly.
"Yes.
Yes I did," she answers with an emotion I don't even recognize. "I'm
going to tell you everything now, all of it. It's the first time
ever
that
I will say it out loud to anyone."
Nicolette
looks at my glass of water and shakes her head. "I'm going to need
something a little stronger than that to tell you this, and you're going to
need something stronger to hear it."
MY HANDS ARE SHAKING
. Actually, my whole fucking body is a trembling mess. I
grab the wine glass she handed me and raise it to my lips only to find it's
still empty, and I remember I just tried to drink from it a moment ago and it
was already empty then.
Jesus
Christ! I don't know what to do with what she told me.
"Here."
Nicolette picks up the wine bottle and pours us both some more, mine first.
While she fills hers, I gulp down half of it, hearing the clicking of my
throat.
Both of
our faces are soaked in our salty tears. The tissues are not keeping up at all
and I think we've manufactured enough snot to fill a third glass.
Really...what
do I do with this?
None of
it was what I had suspected and was prepared for. My heart is broken for her,
absolutely crushed and devastated. The shaking in my stomach won't go away.
One
thing that is perfectly clear—Justin
must
hear about it!
This is
a world changer for him, as epic as Lena and I could have imagined. It's not
right, for any of them, that the truth has never come out.
"I'm
so sorry for you, for what happened and everything that it caused." My
voice is cracked in a million places.
"Whatever
happens next is up to you," she cries softly. "You know him, and I
don't. A long time ago, after years of knowing I am not good enough for my son,
I came to accept that I will never know him."
"Don't
say that!" I practically shout. "Don't lower yourself, I won't hear
it!"
Nicolette
offers me a smile that's supposed to portray confidence, but it’s way too
wounded. I throw my arms around her again.
"I
just want to say, don't risk it, Charity. Don't lose him over me," she
tells me from under the pressure of my muffling embrace. She sounds like she is
miles away, and that is so fitting. She has been away, for years she has been
away and it's time to get her home.
I don't
make any promises to her—I can't. Right now I have no thoughts or plans, and my
heart hurts. I will tell her truth, I just need to figure out how.
Oh God—that's
not going to be easy.
The
misery stays with me the entire drive back to the resort and the girls. My
hands tremble on the steering wheel. A few times I get so sick to my stomach I
almost pull over to throw up. Literally, I'm terrified.
Maybe I
had hoped she was going to turn out to be the piece of shit Justin believes she
is; that would have made this easy. How terrible is that? At least this would
have been over, and he would never even have to know I was here.
Now I
have to tell him I've betrayed him. Justin has to hear this, there's no option,
but holy fuck!
When I
get back, the girls are on a break between treatments sipping champagne and
laughing in their fluffy white bathrobes, just like the one the spa staff gave
me to put on and join them. They quickly bring me a glass of my own to catch
up, and I down it in three huge gulps.
"Feeling
better?" Trisha giggles.
I smile—somehow.
"Much better. It was just something that didn't agree with me. After I
took a nap, I was right as rain."
"Well,
you made it just in time for our full body massages," Lena says with a
wink.
"Good,"
I breathe. "I fuckin' need it!"
"Wow!
You are fired up, girl," Trisha teases.
Trisha
doesn't see the look I give Lena, the one that says, "Holy shit! Wait
until you hear this!”
Okay,
that probably wasn't fair to do to Lena; it's bad enough I'm a nervous wreck,
but now I've got her concerned and I won't be able to tell her a thing about it
for hours at least, until we are alone.
Lena is
smart, though. I'm sure she's already seen in my face that whatever I've
discovered, it's huge and that means we have to tell Justin.
That
was the intention all along.
I
'm just barely through the door when I
sense something bad. John always talks about the city having emotions; well
tonight our apartment is having one. My coat is still on, bags in my hands and
already the hair is standing up on my neck. He's not greeting me at the door
the way he usually does, making sure the first thing I see is his smiling face.