Page 64 of Total Jane Wreck

My skin prickles. “What does that even mean?”

“It means he’ll be good to you. For a while.” Her smile is weary, but not unkind. “Just . . . be careful how much you love him.” She presses her thumb into the corner of her eye. “Because the day he decides you’re not perfect, it’s all over. Even if he still loves you afterward, it’s not the same.”

“You’re deluded,” I tell her.

She shrugs. “Perhaps. But when it comes to Chet, my eyes are wide open. Can you really say the same?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

My cherished wishes, yesterday so blooming and glowing; they lay stark, chill, livid corpses that could never revive.

I’m shoving all my possessions into my suitcases. Into boxes. With any luck, I’ll leave this trailer and Resilience Ranch within the hour, but just the idea of that wrenches my heart. Picturing Axel Rose arriving here tomorrow morning and finding me gone. Never seeing Copper Cash, Gatsby, Freckles, Rosie, Spitfire, or Tapioca again.

And then there’s Miss Adele and Betty. They’ll think I’ve abandoned them.

Nothing to do about it though. Except gulp back a sob.

A knock on my trailer door startles me, the framed photo of Betty I was about to pack nearly sliding from my grasp. I place it down on my bed and walk toward my door.

Through the peephole, I see Chet. I guess I’d rather find him standing there than Birdy or Grace Poole. Still, more than anything, I want to be alone.

“Go away, Chet!” I yell.

“Jane, please.” Chet’s voice is raw through the thin metal door. “Just give me five minutes. Hear me out, and then I’ll go.”

My hands shake as I reach for the doorknob. I should tell him to leave. But some stupid, stubborn part of me longs for him.

I yank the door open. Chet stands there looking like he’s aged ten years since earlier this evening. His eyes are bloodshot, his face lined with worry, his hair somehow seeming more gray at the temples. He doesn’t wait for an invitation before stepping inside.

“Birdy and Grace are leaving,” he says without preamble. “I booked Birdy into a luxury mental health program in Colorado Springs. Grace is going to drive her. They’ll be gone by morning.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “And that’s supposed to make everything better? You’ve been lying to me for weeks, Chet.”

“I know.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been lying to myself too. That’s why I need to tell you everything. The whole messed-up truth.”

“No. It’s too late for that. Whatever you’re gonna say won’t make a difference.”

His chin trembles. “That’s not the point.”

“Not the point? How can there even be a—”

“The point,” Chet interjects, “is that I love you. I understand that you’re leaving. But please, Jane. Hear me out. Let me explain how it came to this. I won’t make excuses or beg for forgiveness. But maybe you’ll understand.”

Chet’s dark eyes implore me. And dammit, my heart cracks open, just enough that he can almost worm his way back in.

“Fine,” I say, gesturing to my fold-down dinette table. “I’m listening.”

He sits and stares at his hands. Outside, something—a branch, maybe—scrapes against the side of the trailer.

“My dad died in Iraq,” he says. “You knew that already. You also know that my mom cleaned houses in Silicon Valley to keep us afloat. Then she married Tom, and from day one, Mason resented me. It didn’t help that Tom tried too hard, welcoming me into the family. And when I got into Berkeley and Mason didn’t, well, after that—” He exhales. “You can imagine.”

I nod.

“ShopSpot was my capstone project. Tom invested on the condition that I hire Mason. And Mason, to his credit, was good at it. Charming people, closing deals. For a while, we were almost brothers.” He pauses. “Then he started bringing Birdy to company parties. She’d hang off his arm, smiling for photos, but every time he’d had a few drinks, she’d go very still. Like an animal that’s learned not to move.”

My throat tightens.

“She showed me bruises,” Chet says. “Insinuated that he was abusive. I believed her. I confronted Mason, and he laughed at me—said she was the dangerous one, that I was being played.” His jaw works. “And yet, I chose Birdy over Mason. Even though he was as close as I’d ever get to having a brother. And if he resented me before, he hated me now. Once Birdy moved into my place, Mason claimed I’d ‘stolen’ her from him. And then—” Chet stops. Looks at his hands again.