29. Audra #2
If she had told me this a few days ago, I would have been horrified.
Now… I'm not. Not really. Because suddenly, the world doesn't feel so clean-cut anymore.
Not right and wrong. Not good and bad. There are…
layers. Shades. So many shades. And every single one of them has a story behind it.
A reason. A moment that pushed someone from one side to the other. Jenna's confession doesn't repel me.
It… loosens something. Like a knot inside my chest that slowly unravels.
"So you don't think it's bad," I ask carefully, "that the dirt hasn't even settled on my husband's grave, and yet here I am… attracted to another man?"
Jenna's lips curve, not unkind, not surprised. "You like Gabe?"
My throat tightens. I nod.
"Yeah," I admit, so quietly it barely makes a sound.
Jenna shrugs, like it's the simplest thing in the world. "Life's short. And it sounds like you'd already emotionally checked out."
"I was," I whisper. "I was." I swallow hard. "Still… I loved him. Not like I was supposed to. But I did love Pete. He was a good man."
Jenna nods, understanding flickers in her eyes. "I hated Carter," she states simply. "That made it easier."
Her hand closes around mine, warm and steady. "There's no judgment here," she adds softly. "None."
And for the first time since everything fell apart… I believe someone when they say that.
"If you want to talk about it…" she glances at her watch in an exaggerated move. "I'm free until ten tonight."
A small, unexpected laugh escapes me. She grins. And just like that, the weight on my chest lifts—just a little.
"I met Pete when I was eighteen. He offered something that I never had before.
Stability." I dive in, hoping she meant what she said and it wasn't just a polite gesture, because no matter if she likes it or not, the floodgates are open, wide open.
"I needed a change and turned my life upside down, not fully, not right away, I still liked to go to parties and stuff, but not for long…
" I know I'm rambling and probably not making a whole lot of sense, but I don't know if I can talk about Razor again.
I only want to talk about Pete and what he meant and didn't mean.
If I can make her understand that part, maybe I can too, and maybe, just maybe, if I can understand, then I can forgive myself?
"Pete was very… structured and put together. He knew what he wanted, while I was more… floating. Living day to day. He had a plan, college, and a job he wanted. Nothing that I ever had in my life."
"One night, I panicked, I thought… somebody was after me, and I called Pete to come get me.
I let him think I was drunk," I confess quietly, and I was drunk and high, but I was also sober from fear because I had seen a motorcycle drive by the house where the party was, and worried Razor had found me.
"He came," I add quickly. "He always came.
No questions. No drama. He would just… be there. "
"And that mattered," she guesses.
"It did," I nod. "It still does."
Because Pete was safe. Pete was steady. Pete was everything I needed.
"But it wasn't everything," Jenna guesses again.
I look at her, and I realize she's not guessing. She knows.
"I thought it was," I whisper. "I was eighteen. It felt like enough."
I laugh weakly. "Turns out… six years later, it's not."
Silence settles between us.
"What about him?" she asks after a while. "Gabe."
My stomach flips instantly at the mention of his name, as if that's telling enough.
"I don't know what that is," I admit. "But it's not… safe."
"No," she agrees.
"But it's—" I stop, searching for the word. Everything? Too much? Addictive?
"Alive," she finishes for me.
My throat tightens. "Yes."
Jenna studies me for a long moment. Then she says something that completely knocks the ground out from under me. "You're not a bad person for wanting more."
I blink. "I'm married," I say.
"You were married," she corrects.
She's right, but people don't move on that quickly. They don't. Not even when they didn't really love their husbands.
"So was I." She looks far off for a moment.
"Did I take shit for all that? You bet I did.
Did it hurt?" She shrugs, "Sometimes. But once you find the right man, once you know, nothing else matters.
Not the public crucifixion, not the whispered words behind your back, not the stares from other people.
All that matters is what you know in your heart is true. "
"My story is different from yours. First, all I felt for Carter was hate.
Second, Massimo and I had been in love ten years ago, before…
" She shakes her head, "Doesn't matter. What I'm trying to tell you is that everyone's story is different and that there is no such thing as wrong or right.
Not in this world and not in the way people think.
"Cater wasn't who people thought he was," she continues. "And I stayed for reasons that had nothing to do with love." She huffs, "At least not for him. You don't owe anyone your entire life just because they were safe once."
My breath catches.
"I loved him," I insist quietly.
"I believe you."
"But not in the way I was supposed to, not anymore," I whisper.
Jenna steps closer and puts her cup down, "You grew. That's not a crime."
"It feels like one," I admit. Because it does. Because I wove a lie, and I couldn't live it any longer; that wasn't on Pete, that was on me.