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She nods once, her smile turning sad. “That’s what I wanted to speak with you about.”
I don’t want to be rude, and my knees feel suddenly weak, so I motion to my desk. “Would you like to sit?”
“That would be great.” She follows me across the room and takes a seat in one of the chairs across from my desk.
“Can I offer you something to drink? Sparkling water? Still? Coffee? Tea? A shot of tequila?”
She chuckles. “The tequila sounds appealing, but water would be wonderful. Still please, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Not at all.” I pour us both a glass and take the seat opposite her, rather than putting the barricade of the desk between us. As she lifts her glass to her mouth, I realize her hands are shaking.
Selene sets the glass on the table beside her and folds her hands in her lap. “I’m not entirely sure what you overheard at the charity event, but I need to explain my side of the story.”
“I never would have dated Jackson if I’d known that you were involved. I had no idea how extensive your history was. And I wouldn’t have attended the charity event either. I can’t imagine how you must have felt. I never wanted to be the other woman.”
She gives me a small, apologetic smile. “You aren’t the other woman, London, you are the only woman.”
I shake my head. “But you and Jackson. He proposed to you!”
Selene runs her fingers along the handle of her purse, her expression reflecting a hint of embarrassment. “When he was twenty-two years old.”
“You were still romantically involved,” I say softly.
“But only because I pushed us to be.” Selene clears her throat and glances out the window. “I’ve never seen Jackson as broken up as he is right now, and that’s my fault. I didn’t realize how invested he was in his relationship with you. I never told him how I felt about him. I knew he only saw me as a friend, but I continued to pursue something more. It wasn’t fair to him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Jackson asked me to marry him at a time in his life when things were very unstable. I knew he wasn’t asking for the right reasons, and I didn’t want to start a life with him that was tainted by loss and desperation on his part. I was never his girlfriend, so to get married? It seemed crazy. And as much as it hurt to say no, it was the right decision. We stayed friends, and eventually well … our relationship shifted. Jackson was very clear about it being casual, and I agreed, but I’d always assumed eventually, we would be more, and he would ask me to marry him. But for the right reasons.”
“I overheard that part. I knew that he had proposed to someone, but I didn’t realize it was you. Or that you’d been involved for all those years.”
“That’s what I’m trying to explain. We weren’t involved. Not in the way that you’re thinking. Yes, we slept together occasionally, but I was always the person initiating. Jackson didn’t come to me. I went to him. I kept trying to make us something we could never be. Yes, it was only when neither of us were with anyone, but I made it easy for him. I never asked for more and never told him I wanted more. There were years when we truly were just friends, so when he said we should stop sleeping with each other I thought it was just temporary. He’d said it once before, very early on, but I assured him back then that I wasn’t looking for commitment.” She pauses and looks up at the ceiling. “I should have realized this time was different, especially when he started spending more time with you.”
“It doesn’t make the emotional connection you two have any less real,” I say.
“You’re right. Which is why sleeping together was easy. We’re comfortable together. We know each other well. But we don’t have that spark. If we did, we would have been more a long time ago. I was holding onto an idea, not a reality. And I finally see it now. I want someone to love me the way Jackson loves you, London. And he does. Very much. He’s so broken up over this. I don’t want to be someone’s second choice, and that’s what I would always be for Jackson. I love him, and he will always be part of my life, but only as a friend. So please, London, talk to him. I don’t think I could live with myself if my misplaced expectations and feelings are the reason you never talk to Jackson again.”
26
HOLD ON TIGHT
JACKSON
I’m only half paying attention to what Mitchell is saying. I’ve been in Colorado for four days, and my focus has degraded exponentially since I’ve been here. Not that it was much better back in New York, but knowing that I’m this close to London and she’s still out of reach brings with it a level of pain I’ve only ever experienced once before.
