Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I fight with all I have to keep my eyes on the screen as George and I watch my video together. When it ends, you could hear a pin drop in the studio.
George has a few more questions after that, but they blur together. Adrenaline pumps through me in powerful waves, making me sick to my stomach. Not because I regret this interview, but because everything suddenly becomes real. My parents are going to see this, and they are going to sue me.
We are done in two hours. Tom and George thank me profusely again, and some members of the crew kindly ask if they can give me a hug. A while later, a car drops me at the hotel George’s production company arranged for me. But before I make it to the reception desk, I can’t take it anymore and call Jada.
“Allie,” she breathes out, the worry in her voice so evident, it makes me feel like the worst human alive. “Is it you?”
“It’s me,” I whisper, my eyes watering. “I’m sorry, Jada. I’m so sorry. I’m in LA. I talked to George Eden.”
She sucks in a breath. “Oh, honey….”
“I’m at a hotel.” I rattle off the name. “C-Can you pick me up?”
“Of course, sweetie. Oh, Allie, we were so worried. We’ll be there shortly. Please don’t move.”
I don’t. And forty minutes later, I’m sandwiched between Jada and Paul, clinging to their hug as if I’d crumble if they let me go. I’m not convinced that I won’t.
We barely speak on our drive to their home. Jada sits with me in the back seat, holding my hand the entire time, while Paul keeps asking me if I’m okay, if I need to stop. I couldn’t possibly love them more.
I skip dinner. Jada tries to convince me to eat, but anxiety is knotting my stomach so tightly, I can barely drink water.
One look at Jada’s and Paul’s faces is enough to know they want to talk about today. Keeping them in the dark makes me feel like crap, but I can’t speak tonight. I can’t.
They tell me they understand.
I’m so mentally exhausted, I fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow.
The next day, I wake up at noon. Jada leaves me a note in the kitchen, reminding me to eat something and assuring me that she and Paul will rush back home after work. I eat half a banana and go back to bed.
I can’t stand being awake.
Hours later, the sound of the front door closing wakes me up. Hushed voices filter under the door of the bedroom I’d once claimed as my own. A bedroom I never thought I’d sleep in again.
I’m rubbing the sleep off my eyes when a soft knock makes my heart do a downright jolt. “Allie? Are you there?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I come in?” Jada asks.
“Sure.”
Her expression is wary when her eyes meet mine. “Hey, honey. I’m sorry if I woke you up. I sent you a couple of texts, but you didn’t reply. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
With a tired hand, I reach out to my nightstand and grab the glass of water, taking a sip. I clear my throat. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I was sleeping and turned my phone off.”
I should just let it die.
“That’s okay.” Jada hesitates. “Paul and I are going to start making dinner, if you want to join us.”
The biggest part of me wants to say no. It wants to fester in bed until fear, anxiety, and guilt eat me alive. It would be so easy to let that part win. So easy.
Surrendering to fear isn’t scary or even difficult because it’s always the safest option. It won’t cause your skin to prickle or your heart to stall or your brain to turn to danger mode. It’s comfortable.
But then there’s a tiny voice inside my head that wants to have this conversation. That needs to. George Eden’s interview is airing tomorrow night, and it’s okay if I admit to the people I care so much about—and to myself—that I’m not ready for the aftermath.
“Let me take a quick shower first,” I find myself saying, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
She gives me what I think is a relieved smile and says, “Take your time,” before shutting the door behind her again.
Twenty minutes later, the hardwood floor creaks under my weight as I walk into the kitchen. Paul is whispering something in Jada’s ear that makes her chuckle, but all signs of glee vanish as soon as they notice me.
“Hey, there,” Paul greets me, trying to sound casual.
I give him a tight-lipped smile. “Hi.”
“Was your shower okay?” Jada asks, her demeanor more sober than just a moment ago.
I nod, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I…”
The second I open my mouth, my eyes betray me and start to sting. My lips follow suit and start quivering with the silent words I can’t voice because my throat closes up.
“Oh, honey,” Jada mutters. A moment later, she’s kneeling in front of me, her manicured fingers gripping my hands tightly. “Let it all out, Allie. You’re okay.”
I shake my head because no, I’m not okay. I’ve never been, and I only have myself to blame.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Paul says before his heavy hand lands on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re really proud of you, Allie. Really proud.”
For some reason, that makes me cry harder. It’s not that I don’t think I’m strong. I am , for the most part, and nobody can take that away from me. But what’s strength without integrity?
I lied for six years, and it cost me everything. My happiness, my peace, my new life.
It cost me Travis.
Because this is the truth—even if I was brave enough to talk to him again, and even if he was understanding enough to forgive me, I can’t forgive myself.
Travis, with a heart so big, it can’t possibly fit inside his chest. He’s always taken care of me, and he deserves to be with someone who shows the same respect to him. By lying to his face for more than a year, I’ve betrayed our trust without him even knowing, and I can’t move past that.
And so the tears keep falling. Not so much for what’s waiting for me once the interview airs tomorrow—as much as it makes me anxious, I don’t regret speaking out—but for the life I lost, the one I’ll never be able to rebuild.
After what feels like hours of bawling my eyes out in Jada and Paul’s kitchen but is probably just minutes, I finally find my voice and tell them everything—how my parents found me in Bannport, how they threatened me to sign an NDA or they’d reveal my new identity, why I talked to George Eden and didn’t tell them until now.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to us or to anybody,” Jada assures me, still holding my trembling hands in her warm ones. “It’s your life. It happened to you . If your parents didn’t want the world to know, they shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
I let out an uneven breath. “Everything will go to hell tomorrow.”
“Then let it happen,” says Paul, who’s taken a seat next to me. “Nobody in their right mind would question what you did or blame you for your choices, Allie. Not when you showed the video.”
“My parents will sue me,” I whisper.
“Again, let them. They won’t win.” Paul sounds so convinced, I want to believe him. More than anything.
“If they do, you won’t be alone,” Jada says. “We’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll help you find an attorney, and anything else you need. You’re not alone, Allie. Never.”
Travis said the same thing when he showed up after the almost break-in.
I’m here, and you’re safe. You’re not alone anymore.
I made the mistake of relying on him, of taking too much when I deserved nothing. And now…
“Is there anything else you’re worried about?” Jada asks as if she could read my mind. By the way her inquisitive gaze bores into mine, I’m starting to suspect she can.
“There’s…” I start but stop when I feel a rush of heat crawling up my neck.
Why does this feel more difficult than talking about my parents on national TV?
Maybe because Jada and I have never talked about love or relationships; my life was too much of a clusterfuck for there to be space for anything else. Plus, it’s not like I’ve had boyfriends in the past. A crush here and there that never went anywhere, sure, but nothing as strong or real as what I feel for Travis.
I have no idea how to tackle this conversation in a way that isn’t awkward, so I just blurt it out.
“I hate the way I left things at The Lair. I stormed out of the bar because I was embarrassed after confronting my parents. I hate that I’ve disappointed my co-workers—who have become my close friends—and I can’t bear the thought of them hating me for lying to them. But I regret hurting my boss the most. Travis. He’s the man I’d been living with the past few weeks. Because I think I’m in love with him, and I think he feels something for me, too, but I’ve ruined everything.”
Silence is the only response I get until Paul shatters it with the very last thing I ever expected him to say.
“You owe me twenty bucks, Jae.”
I blink. “What?”
Jada shakes her head and throws a glance at her husband before her softened eyes land on me again. “It’s nothing, honey.”
I glance between them. “I want to know.”
It’s Paul who cracks, a sly smirk on his lips. “When Jae told me you were moving in with your boss, I told her you probably had a thing for him.”
“ What ? Why would you even think that?”
He shrugs. “I wasn’t wrong, was I? It was just an inkling.”
Jada shakes her head, but she can’t hide the amusement in the slight tilt of her mouth. “To be fair, honey, I also thought you had a crush on Travis.”
My heart somersaults. “And you bet on it?”
“That was just Paul being silly.” Jada waves it off. “But let’s go back to the important stuff, because you’re clearly upset about Travis. Did he say anything to you?”
“I left before he could,” I admit, seeing—and not for the first time—how childish that was. If I’d stayed behind to explain myself, maybe now I wouldn’t be getting nauseous wondering what he must be thinking. For better or for worse, I would know where I stood with the man I was starting to see a future with.
“I called Travis days ago,” Jada blurts out, catching me and my poor heart completely off guard.
My tongue feels like sandpaper. “You did?”
The two people in front of me exchange a secretive glance. “You weren’t answering your phone. He told me what had happened. That your parents had been there.”
I drown out the part of me that tells me it’s better if I don’t know what went down, exactly, because I refuse to be that Allie anymore. I don’t want to be a coward.
“Did he say anything about me?” I ask, my pulse erratic.
“Other than explaining what had happened, no. He sounded…”
“Gruff?” I offer.
“I was going to say pissed off, but yeah.”
Pissed off. If I had any doubts after not seeing a single text or a missed call from him, now I know for sure—Travis wants nothing to do with me, and I can’t blame him for it. It’s all on me.
“How about we take a walk around the neighborhood?” Paul suggests, getting to his feet, probably after seeing the distress all over my face. “Remember the Jenkins? They got the tackiest garden gnomes on their front porch. Jae thinks they’re cute, so we need your deciding verdict.”
“Fresh air will do you good,” Jada encourages.
I glance between the two people who have held my head above water for more than ten years. Even though all I want is to go back to bed and sulk, they don’t deserve to see me crumble. For them, I’ll pull myself out of this hole.
“All right.”
The garden gnomes end up being tacky after all.