The Redhead Revealed (Redhead #2)(51)
Author: Alice Clayton

“I worked all day and all night, but from home. I could go days without actually seeing anyone, and while the relationships I had with my clients were good, I kept myself very isolated,” I said. “I, well, I put on some weight. And then some more weight, and, well, eventually—you saw my picture. I stopped dating. I didn’t allow myself to meet anyone or take a chance on anything. Holly came home to see me once, and even though she never said anything, I knew she was disappointed in me,” I said, thinking back to the sad look she had when she saw me for the first time in years.

“She’d caught herself and recovered quickly, and we went on to have a wonderful girls’ weekend. But I could still feel the awkward pain of knowing that when she thought I wasn’t looking, she was looking. She was watching, and she was worried. But I made myself forget it. I pushed it down and away and continued on with my life, such as it was.

“Jack, I was so introverted at that point—all the stuff you say you love about me? The crazy? You wouldn’t even have recognized me back then, and I don’t just mean physically.” I sniffed, the tears beginning to collect and spill over. But I wiped my nose on my sleeve, and pushed on.

“Eventually I realized leaving L.A. had been harder for me to deal with than I thought. It represented all the things I grew up wanting, but when they didn’t come easy, I quit. Holly was right: I was a quitter. And to ignore that, to push that down, I coped the only way I knew how. I just withdrew. And as the layers of protection added up, I shut down. I don’t know what I would have done or what I would have become if it wasn’t for one random night—a totally random night that my few friends dragged me out.” I sniffed again, feeling my emotions threaten to overwhelm me. But I welcomed them, as it meant I was feeling something again.”

I told him about going to see Rent and how it had reawakened something inside me. How it changed me, altered my course, reminded me of who I was, and revealed who I’d let myself become. As I talked about the power I felt, sitting in that theater, Jack’s face came alive and he nodded. He seemed to know exactly the feeling I was talking about. I explained how that night, that one night, had become the catalyst for everything in my life to change. In the following weeks and months I started counseling, began working with a trainer, and began to allow myself to dream about the life I’d always wanted again.

“And even though you might not want to hear this part, at that point I hadn’t been on a date in years—I mean years! When I started to feel better about myself, and I began to look more like myself again, I found I enjoyed being in the company of men again, and that I could experience dating in a whole new way…I might have gone a little crazy,” I added with a shy smile.

He just grinned back, and I felt lighter and lighter as I continued, explaining how I’d battled my way all the way back to L.A. and letting go of the black fear I was still cloaked in—even after all this time.

I told him our relationship had taken me by surprise, and I was unprepared for how completely he’d captured my heart and loved me, crazy and all. I told him I loved him so intensely it scared the shit out of me.

“But, Jack, as much as I’ve fixed things on the outside, there’s still a lot of work to do on the inside. That’s still very much a work in progress, and my baggage, sadly, has become your baggage. The meltdown at your premiere? That’s evidence right there. Do you know how hard it is for me to even conceptualize that you want to be with me? With everyone in the world wanting you, you want to be with me.” I shook my head in wonder. “That’s a heady thing for any woman—especially one with such big issues.”

He started to speak and reached for me, but I took his hands and asked him to bear with me just a bit longer.

Then I told him the truth about the relationship Michael and I had in college. I told him how Michael and I had been closer since I’d moved to New York, and that this had made me question what was “right” and “appropriate” and “good” for me. I told him how Keili had put me on the baby train, making me question things I thought had been decided years ago. I’d had some major tunnel vision. On the morning of the premiere—fueled by nerves and paranoia and bagel—I saw myself, in my mind’s eye, with children I didn’t even know I wanted. And rather than discuss it, or let the idea marinate a bit, I immediately dove for the opposite end of the spectrum, where the idea of Jack and I, and the idea of children, could never coexist.

“You were totally right when you said I push happiness away. You knew it before I knew it. There’s a part of me that doesn’t really believe I deserve good things,” I said. “That’s going to take some time to change. I clearly have a lot more work to do. But I never wanted anyone but you. You have to believe that. For weeks I’ve been searching for the right time to call you and beg you to take me back, to apologize for being so shortsighted and not realizing that every single solitary thing I’ve ever wanted in a man is in you.”

I’d left my seat by this point and was on my knees in front of him. The tears had begun at Rent and hadn’t stopped since.

He was perfectly silent, just taking it all in. He started to speak again, and I stopped him.

I still had one more confession to make—one that could break him. This was where he’d either stay in this with me, or decide it was too much.

“There’s something else I need to tell you. I know in my heart if we’re ever going to get past this, I need to be totally honest with you. About everything.” I took a deep breath.

Say it. Be strong. You have to tell him.

“A few weeks ago, I went out with Michael,” I said.

I looked at him. The color had drained from his face. His eyes were almost gray.

“We went out for dinner, and then came back to my place,” I continued, my throat beginning to close.

I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t not finish.

You can do this. Tell him. Come clean.

“What did you do, Grace?” he asked, his voice gruff and almost inaudible, even in the stillness of the room.

I breathed deep.

“Did you f**k him, Grace? Did you? Oh, God, you f**ked him, didn’t you?” he snarled suddenly, standing and leaving me on the floor. I scrambled after him.

“No, no, it didn’t get that far, I swear!”

He whirled toward me. “Did he kiss you?” he hissed, his face stormy.