Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
JENNY
“ J enny! Jenny!” My father’s voice echoes down the hall.
I walk faster, pretending I can’t hear him. He’s close on my heels, furious with me for storming out in the middle of his latest lecture on “knowing my place.” As if I don’t know it well enough.
And of course, as I turn the corner, there is Brett, coming in my direction with his usual, lazy charm, a woman on each arm. They hold champagne glasses in their manicured hands, laughing like they’d already won him. I know where he’s taking them. To the bloody indoor conservatory, where… No, I can’t even think about it. About what he wants to do to them and with them. I’ll lose my mind if I do.
“Jenny, you okay?” Brett asks. “Zack says you fell out of a tree.”
My pulse races as he addresses me but the hysterical giggles from the women hanging onto his arms makes me race ahead even faster to hide from the shame consuming me.
“Be careful!” Both Brett and my father yell after me, but I ignore them both and run home.
I shove open the door to our little apartment above the garage and storm into my room, pulling the blanket over my head as if it can block out everything…the party sounds, the music, the laughter, all of it. But it seeps through, filling my room and my head like poison. Sometimes it feels like I’m trapped in some kind of prison, surrounded by all this wealth, yet always just on the outside. It’s like I’m taunted with it, reminded every single day that I’ll never be part of it, and that Brett… would never see me as anything other than the chauffeur’s kid.
Below me, in the garage, are more luxury cars than most people see in a lifetime. Brett loves them. I don’t even care about cars, but I know every damn model because he’s obsessed, talking about them with the kind of focus he never shows on anything else. Once, when I was fifteen, I tried to kiss him, back when we were both in the garage, just him and me in his sleek, cherry-red Ferrari. But he was so wrapped up in some smudge on the windshield, he barely noticed. I thought he’d feel something, just a flicker of what I feel, but… nothing. He tossed a rag over his shoulder, not even looking at me, and I had to swallow back my embarrassment, pretending I was helping him with the damn spot on the glass.
Now, that memory burns in me, and my heart aches at the thought of what he’s doing in the conservatory, with those two women laughing and fawning over him, probably already melting under his touch.
I’ve walked in on him before, wrapped around some woman like he couldn’t get enough, and it was horrible. She was panting like an animal. Ugh!
A knock on the door breaks through my thoughts, and my father’s voice follows, low and firm.
“Jenny. We need to talk.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping he’ll leave, but of course, he doesn’t. I hear the door creak open and his heavy footsteps as he comes in, pulling a chair to my bedside. The mattress dips slightly as he sits beside me, sighing in that way he does when he’s about to start in on me.
“You can’t keep doing this,” he says, voice softer now. “I know what you’re feeling, Jenny.”
“No, you don’t,” I whisper, biting down the lump in my throat.
“Believe it or not, I know,” he insists, his voice gentler but unyielding. “But I keep telling you that it’s because you’re young. It will pass. This infatuation will pass. You’ll come to your senses soon enough to understand how this world works.”
“Please stop,” I plead. “I’ve heard you. I know I’m not good enough for the likes of the Jacksons. So please go.”
He doesn’t listen, and as always, he is adamant on trying his best to get me to come to my senses.
“Look at him, Jenny. Brett’s not for you. You’ll never be part of their world…you’re not even in his orbit. These people… they’re different. They don’t live by the same rules. And Brett, he’s the life of the party. Do you think he even knows you exist in the way you want him to?”
“Stop,” I hiss, but my voice breaks. “Dad! I hear you. You don’t need to remind me again that we are nothing. I get it.”
He sighs, his hand resting on my blanket. “Jenny, I have been trying to get you to understand and to listen to me for the longest time, but you haven’t. So now, I think it’s best I take matters into my own hands and fix this problem.”
At this, my heart nearly sinks into my belly. “What do you mean?” I ask. “What are you planning to do?”
“Virginia,” my father replies. “I’m sending you to your grandparents. They’ll be more than happy to have you. You’ll stay there for a while, work on the farm. I think it’ll be good for you to get away, to have some time, some distance.”
I cannot believe the words coming out of his mouth. I’m in so much shock that for the longest time, I just stare right back at him, open-mouthed.
“No,” I say, my voice barely a whisper, but my whole body stiffens. “No. You can’t do that. I can’t leave… I can’t… No!”
“You don’t have a choice. Plus, you always loved the fields and working in the gardens. There’ll be plenty of trees for you to climb there, but please be careful.”
He sounds casual, like this is just a discussion, but there is a finality in his tone that I know makes it clear this is not up for discussion.
“It’s what’s best for you, sweetheart,” he says. “This crush, this obsession…it has to stop. You need to see this for what it is.”
The words sear through me, leaving me raw and open. I clench my fists, fighting back the scream bubbling up inside me. I can’t stand the way he looks at me, like I’m some naive girl with foolish dreams, like he knows everything, and I know nothing.
“Just… go away,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll scream.”
For a moment, he stays where he is, a heavy silence stretching between us. Then he sighs, standing up slowly.
“Alright, Jenny,” he says, his voice quieter, sadder than before.
I hate to hurt him. I hate to be rude, but right now my heart is breaking. He’s sending me away, and who knows if I’ll ever return. He’s talked about moving back to Virginia as well, so what if… what if I never get to see Brett again?
He leaves, closing the door softly behind him, and as soon as he’s gone, I feel the tears well up, hot and unstoppable. I bury my face in the blanket, sobbing as I clutch my pillow, the pain ripping through me like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
He’s right. There’s no hope. There’s no way out of this. Brett will never see me. I’m nothing more than the chauffeur’s daughter, and that will never change. And now that he’s shipping me off, there’s no longer any time to fix this. I imagine the farm, spending my days there, wallowing…and it hurts too much. I make up my mind then. It’s not a sudden thought. Frustration and despair have seeped in over and over again through the years, and the thought has crossed my mind countless times. But maybe now, it’s time to find peace.
Sniffling, I reach for my journal, my hands shaking as I flip it open. I press the pen to the page, but I can barely see through the blur of my tears, my hand trembling as I start to write my suicide note.