Promise to Keep Page 2

  So the more she tried to apologize and beg for my forgiveness that morning and then at the wedding reception the next day, the colder I was toward her. I thought that there was nothing she could say that would push away the hatred I had for her. But I was wrong. At the wedding reception, I’d asked her in spite why she’d insisted on sitting right next to me when our table had eight other empty seats. She’d said: “Because you won’t talk to me, you won’t look at me, and you won’t forgive me. Because I miss you. Very much. And every single day. Because for the last nine years, there hasn’t been a single day that I didn’t hate myself for hurting you. Because I lost my first and only best friend in the world, the man I recently realized that I love and want a life with. And because if I didn’t at least tell you all this when I had the chance, there’d be another reason to hate myself every day.”

  Her words caught me by surprise. I knew they were genuine and I felt my will power to stay angry at her begin to crumble. As I took in her words, I wasn’t able to react or respond. Everything she just confessed to feeling were feelings I’d had for her, and I’d longed to hear her tell me she loved me and wanted a future with me. But as I sat there, I was torn between my hatred and my love for the best friend I’d known since I was eight—the girl I had made a pact to marry.

  But before I had time to process my own thoughts, to figure out if my feelings for her were enough to overcome the hatred inside me, I heard her get up and rush out of the reception hall. I resisted the urge to run after her. I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to her, to admit to her my feelings, to admit how much she’d hurt me, to admit to myself that I still cared for her. But as I sat there alone, I felt my resolve start to waver. As much as I wanted to hold on to the anger that tainted my memories of her, I knew I had to see her. I wasn’t sure what I’d say to her, or if I’d even say anything at all. But her last words echoed in my mind, “…if I didn’t at least tell you all this when I had the chance, there’d be another reason to hate myself every day.” I realized that this could be the last time I’d ever see her, and I knew that this wasn’t the way I wanted our last conversation to end.

  Without giving it another thought, I got up quickly and went after her. I caught a glimpse of her standing outside talking on the phone. Just as I pushed through the front door leading out of the building, I saw Chloe faint and fall lifelessly onto the ground.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Present Day

  Thirty Years Old

  CHLOE

  “My dad?” he spat out the words as he turned from his father to look at me. I saw the pure shock, disgust, and hurt painted across his face and echoed in his ice-cold glare, and I felt myself recoil in response. I’d never seen him look at me like this before—his eyes were devoid of that warmth that I’d grown used to. He looked at me like I was a complete stranger to him.

  “Jax, I can explain—” I started.

  “—Explain?” He cut me off, his voice cold and laced with venom. “How exactly are you going to explain this?” he demanded, daring me to answer him. “Are you going to try to convince me that you knew it was me that was fucking you just now? Are you going to try to convince me that you had no idea that my dad was going to stop by with a hard Viagra dick? Are you going to try to convince me that you haven’t fucked my dad before?” I could hear the mix of disgust and hurt in his questions. “Or…are you going to tell me the truth?”

  The betrayal and hurt in his eyes made it hard to breathe. “I…” I was at a loss for words and tried to think through the panic that paralyzed my body and the rapid beating of my heart. “I wanted to tell you, Jax. I don’t want to lie to you—”

  His crazed laughter cut me as he grabbed his clothes that were scattered around the floor. “You don’t want to lie to me? That’s fresh.” He snorted. “I really find that hard to believe.”

  “Jackson, we’re all adults here, and no one’s been lying to you,” John, Jackson’s father, finally spoke.

  “Are you fucking serious, Dad? Not lying to me?” By now, Jackson had put on all his clothes and started to head for the bedroom door.

  “We weren’t. Chloe and I are consensual adults and you guys are just friends. Nothing we’re doing is wrong.”

  I felt sick and my insides twisted with anxiety as I heard John trying to justify what we’d been doing. I knew he was making things worse, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that could possibly make it better.

  “Please, Jax. Can we please talk about this alone? I want to explain everything to you,” I pleaded as I followed him to the bedroom door.

  “There’s nothing to talk about, Chloe.”

  I winced at hearing him call me by my full name instead of his nickname for me. “I’m so sorry, Jax. I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I really wanted to tell you.” I wasn’t sure what to say. How could I blurt out the fact that I was an escort at this point? How could I tell him that his father wasn’t the only man I’d slept with regularly? I knew it would only make matters worse when he was so consumed with rage. “Please can we sit down and talk about this?”

  “I’ve heard enough!” He pushed back his father and walked through the living room toward the front door.

  “Jax! Please!” I raced after him, panic radiating through me, and I knew I couldn’t let him leave like this. “I needed the money!” I heard myself blurt out before I could think through what I’d wanted to say.

  He whipped around, his eyes ablaze in a crazed frenzy. “You needed money? How come you didn’t come to me? I could’ve given you some money if you needed help! How come you went to my dad? Is he your sugar daddy? Was this why my parents got a divorce two years ago?”

  “No, that had nothing to do with me.” I ran to him and reached for his hands, trying to do anything that would keep him from walking out the front door, trying to convince him to stay long enough to hear me out.

  “She’s right, son. Your mom and I was going through our divorce a year before anything happened between Chloe and I,” John offered as he walked into the living room from the bedroom.

  I cringed as I saw Jackson doing the math in his head before he looked at me, his face twisted in revulsion. “You’ve been fucking my dad for a year?” He looked at me in a way that frightened me, like he was looking at a complete stranger he couldn’t understand.

  “I…” I bowed my head and nodded in shame, unable to meet his eyes. I knew there was nothing I could say to make the situation better. “I’m really sorry. I really am,” I whispered. “I had my reasons, if you’ll just let me explain…”

  But he didn’t seem to hear a word I’d said. “You fucking whore!” His words cut through me like a sharp blade, causing me to look up and meet his gaze. I saw the sheer rage in his cold, piercing green eyes, and I knew then that I’d lost him.

  “I’m sorry, Jax. Please let me explain,” I pleaded again as tears began to stream down my face. I could hear the desperation in my own voice.

  To my surprise, he took a step toward me and looked me square in the eyes as he leaned in. With our faces only inches apart, he said through gritted teeth, “Sorry isn’t enough to repair this. You fucked this all up. I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again. As far as I’m concerned, the Chloe that was my best friend for the past fourteen years is dead to me.”

  Before I could respond, he turned away from me and stormed out of my apartment.

  “Jax…” I mumbled as I struggled to open my eyes against the weight of my heavy eyelids. As the hazy veil of sleep lifted from my consciousness, I wished desperately that what I’d just dreamed about was merely a dream.

  But I knew it wasn’t. I knew every vivid second of that dream had happened.

  When I finally opened my eyes, I realized I was lying in a hospital bed. As I began to sit up, I noticed an IV hooked to my arm, and I tried to think back to the last thing I could remember before waking up here.

  Aunt Betty!

  I instantly bolted straight up as I remembered my call w
ith Uncle Tom. As I tried to pull the IV out of my arm, a nurse walked into the room.

  “Ms. Sinclair, it’s good to see you awake.”

  “What happened to me?” I looked at the IV. “What is this?”

  “It’s nothing to worry about. You fainted a few hours ago and were brought in. It looked like you had quite a few drinks tonight on an empty stomach and you were dehydrated. So the IV bag just contains some water and sugar to help rehydrate you. How are you feeling?”

  “Nurse, is there a Betty Kline here at this hospital?” I asked with a rush of urgency as I ignored her question. “She’s my aunt, and my uncle had called me earlier and told me they were at the hospital.”

  The nurse flashed me a small understanding smile. “Don’t worry, Ms. Sinclair. Your aunt will be fine. Your uncle stopped by earlier when you were still asleep. They’re just down the hall.”

  “Can I go see her?” I looked at the IV and then back at her.

  “Sure. Let me get that for you.” She reached over and helped me remove the IV from my arm. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay.” Then a thought came to me as I got out of the hospital bed. “How did I get here?”

  “I think a young man brought you in.”

  My face lit up at her answer, and I wondered if the young man was Jackson. “Really?” I paused, almost afraid to ask further. “Is…is he still here?”

  “I don’t think so,” she responded nonchalantly. “I think he just dropped you off and talked to your uncle briefly before leaving.”

  “Oh.” I tried to hide the disappointment from my response and busied myself as I readjusted the hospital gown around my body. “Can you tell me what room my aunt’s in?”

  “No problem. Let me walk you there.”

  Moments later, I was hugging Uncle Tom right outside of Aunt Betty’s hospital room.

  “Are you okay, Chloe? I was worried about you.”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry to have scared you. What happened to Aunt Betty? Will she be okay?” I looked over his shoulder at Aunt Betty, who was asleep on the hospital bed.

  “Don’t worry. The doctor said she’ll be okay. She fell off a step stool while getting something in the pantry. I think her hip might have momentarily given out on her. You know her hip hasn’t been the same since that car accident.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded solemnly.

  “But she was lucky. The doctor said he doesn’t think she sustained any severe injuries, so she should be free to leave in a few days.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

  “Honey, are you really feeling okay?” Uncle Tom studied me with concern.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

  “Well, Jackson brought you in here because you’d fainted at the wedding reception.”

  “Oh.” Hearing Jackson’s name said out loud caused my stomach to flip with anxiety. “Did you talk to him or see him?” I looked at Uncle Tom hopefully. I felt pathetic for being overly eager, but when it came to Jackson, I was like a dry sponge, desperate to soak up any information I could that involved him.

  “Yeah. I spoke to him when you had fainted during our call. He picked up the phone and that’s how he knew where your aunt and I were. So he drove you to this hospital and the nurses put you on an IV as a precautionary measure. I talked to him briefly before he left.”

  “Really? What did you guys talk about?”

  “Nothing really. He stopped by to check on Betty, and then headed home.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I wanted to ask if Jackson mentioned anything about me, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like the answer so held my tongue.

  “Honey, it’s getting late. Why don’t you take my car and head on home and get some rest?”

  “But what about you?”

  “The nurses brought out a cot for me, so I’m going to stay with Betty in her room.”

  I looked back inside the hospital room, this time noticing the small cot flush against the far wall. I also saw a bench against the window. “I don’t feel like being alone tonight. Is it okay if I stay with you guys in the room tonight? I can take that bench by the window.”

  “Of course, honey.” Uncle Tom gave me an understanding smile before we both headed into Aunt Betty’s hospital room.

  ***

  I woke up the next morning with a groan as my hand reached up to massage the crick in my neck.

  “Good morning, sweetie.”

  I smiled as soon as I heard her voice. “Good morning, Aunt Betty. How are you feeling?” I walked over to her bed.

  She smiled at me. “Not bad with all things considered.”

  “Where’s Uncle Tom?” I asked as my eyes glanced at the empty cot.

  “He went down to the cafeteria to get some coffee and breakfast.”

  “Gotcha.” My stomach growled at the mention of food, reminding me that I hadn’t had any food since early yesterday.

  “Honey, are you feeling okay? I heard you fainted last night.”

  I gave her a small reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Really.”

  She frowned and pressed her lips together. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Honey…” she began. From the hesitation in her voice, I knew she had something on her mind.

  “What is it, Aunt Betty?” I met her concerned gaze and felt my body prick with anxiety.

  “Is everything okay with you and Jackson?”

  I was blindsided by her question, leaving me momentarily speechless.

  “Honey, if there’s anything troubling you, you know I’m here to listen, right? You can tell me anything…”

  “Why do you ask?” I tried to sound casual as I turned my face away from her and blinked away the tears that welled up in my eyes.

  I heard her sigh. “Chloe, I watched you grow up. I can tell when something’s bothering you. I’ve known that something is wrong for quite some time now, but I didn’t want to ask. I know you like to process things in your own way. But since you’ve been back home this week, I can tell that whatever’s bothering you hasn’t gone away. I get the sense that it has something to do with Jackson.”

  “Why do you think that?” I asked hesitantly as I turned back to meet her gaze.

  She flashed me an understanding smile. “Because I watched Jackson grow up too, and I want to believe that I know him almost as well as I know you. And when I talked to him last night, I could tell there was something wrong. He was distant and didn’t really mention your name, which is very odd for him.”

  It was then that I started to unravel and realized that I wasn’t able to keep my secret from Aunt Betty any longer. My need to talk to someone about everything that’d happened—everything I’d bottled up inside for the past nine years—overwhelmed me, and I knew that I’d go crazy if I didn’t let it all out.

  So I finally gave in to the need, and I told her everything that’d happened. I felt waves of shame, regret, embarrassment and self-loathing as I heard myself recount everything I’d done out loud. I’d expected Aunt Betty to look at me with disappointment and disgust, but to my surprise, she had tears in her eyes as she listened in silence to my story.

  After I told her everything, I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It felt liberating to finally tell someone about what had happened.

  Shortly after our conversation, Uncle Tom returned from the cafeteria. Feeling hungry and disheveled, I was craving some food and a nice, hot shower. I gave Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom each a kiss goodbye before heading out of the hospital room.

  As I walked to the side entrance of the hospital toward the parking lot where Uncle Tom said he’d parked his car, I suddenly gasped and stopped mid-step when I saw him. There, less than fifty yards away, was Jackson walking toward me with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Present Day

  Thirty Years Old

  JACKSON

  I saw her before she’d spotted me. My chest instantly
tightened at the sight of her and the competing feelings I felt for her fought for their control inside me.

  She stopped in her tracks the moment she saw me. Then she started walking toward me, causing me to draw in a deep breath. I was surprised that even after everything I’d said to her and how cold I’d treated her, she still wanted to talk to me and even approached me with a smile on her face.

  “Hi,” she said in a low, breathy voice when she stopped in front of me. “Thank you for getting me to the hospital last night.”

  “Yeah. No problem.” My voice was flat and distant.

  Her smile fell slightly. “Are those...?” She didn’t finish her question as she looked tentatively between me and the flowers in my hand.

  “They’re for Aunt Betty,” I explained.

  “Oh.” Her expression changed for a moment, but her smile remained curled on her lips. “They’re beautiful tulips. She will love those.”

  I couldn’t help feeling bad when I remembered that tulips were Chloe’s favorite flowers and wondered if she had thought that I was here to see her and these tulips were for her. A dull ache that I’d ignored for so long ran through me as I saw the look in her eyes. In that instant I felt a longing for her. I missed her.

  “Yeah, I wanted to stop by to see that she’s okay. She was always there to care for me when we were growing up.” I felt compelled to explain myself. “It’s the least I can do to thank her for all the lunch money she’d saved me by packing me those school lunches.” I gave a light chuckle, hoping to lighten the tension I felt between us.

  “That’s sweet of you. I know that’ll mean a lot to her.” Her voice was friendly, but in that overly polite way.

  A part of me wanted to say something that would make her feel better, but I didn’t. As I looked at her, I realized that I wasn’t ready to forgive her. Even though I missed her, I still couldn’t understand how she had done something so unforgivable years ago. How could I forgive her when I couldn’t understand her? Or when I felt like I didn’t know her at all?