Chapter 45
JESSE
When the day of the gala arrived, I was over it long before I was even there. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my cufflinks for the third time like they might help me achieve emotional stability.
On the outside, however, I looked precisely like I was supposed to. The black tux had been tailored to fit like a glove, my hair was actually holding style for a change, and my shoes were polished to within an inch of their lives.
If I was seeing me like this, I would have thought everything was fine, but it wasn’t. Nothing was fine. In fact, everything was very, very wrong, which made what I looked like even more impressive, but I didn’t really give a shit about appearances right now.
For one, I’d failed completely in the actual point of this plan, which had been to overshadow any news involving Zach. I’d set out to take the heat off him and redirect it somewhere less damaging—to me, the reformed playboy who’d turned over a new leaf.
All that inspirational, headline-friendly bullshit, except that the media had taken one look at a few photos from New York and decided that I hadn’t grown at all. I was the same old Jesse to them, back to my usual antics.
It turned out that I couldn’t even fake personal development correctly. Gold star for me, am I right?
Not that I cared about any of that right now either. Fuck what they thought.
The reality was that I was heart sick. Totally and completely numb to everything else. I stared at my reflection for a long second, barely recognizing the guy looking back at me.
I should’ve just stayed in my lane. The thought had been on repeat for days. This never would have happened if I hadn’t tried to be someone I’m not. If I hadn’t tried to follow tradition. If I’d left things alone instead.
Fat lot of good it’d done me anyway, trying to be a better version of myself. I’d lost her and myself all in one fell swoop. Go me.
To add to all of that, since this was the first time we were having this gala after my mom had died, it felt like I’d failed her too.
Logically, I knew that was irrational, but my emotions were all over the place.
There was nothing rational about the storm raging inside me.
It just felt like she would’ve looked at everything that had happened and been disappointed. In me. In who I’d turned out to be.
I blew out a long breath, shaking my head. I spun away from the mirror, grabbed my jacket, and left before I could think too hard about just not going at all.
When I finally arrived at the venue, I was late, but I’d gotten so close to not being here that late would just have to be better than never.
Alex and Jane had chosen the Old Post Office for the event, a historic Chicago landmark that Jane had said was as timeless as the gala itself.
Cool evening air washed over my face when I climbed out of the back of the car Alex had sent to deliver me here. Camera flashes immediately followed.
A red-carpeted walkway led up to the door, but between me and the building was an entire army of press, held back by velvet ropes, but they were all clamoring for my attention, rabid hounds snapping at me like I was fresh meat.
“Jesse! Over here!”
“Is it true you’re back on the market?”
“How many of those girls in New York did you take home that night?”
I didn’t slow down to comment or answer any of the questions, just striding up the carpet with my hands in my pockets and a smirk on my face. None of them needed to know that I wasn’t feeling it. Let them think that they knew me. They already thought that anyway.
Once I made it inside, it somehow got even worse. Instead of just strangers with cameras, I had to face business associates, extended family friends, and all sorts of randoms Alex had invited so as not to offend anyone that mattered.
Everyone was dressed to the nines, with drinks in their hands and heads turning the second I walked in.
I felt it immediately, that shift as the attention snapped to me.
Somehow, I’d managed to become the main event, but I ignored everyone who called my name and tried to talk to me, knowing I had to pay a visit to the bar first.
“Jesse,” someone said, another voice ringing out straight after. “Hey, man.”
I didn’t stop, not interested even when someone reached for my arm and tried to grab me. I sidestepped whoever it was without breaking stride, really not in the mood for conversation since I didn’t have it in me to pretend.
Tonight, I didn’t want to smile, or turn on the charm, or play the role everyone expected. Instead, as I moved deeper into the venue, I tried to focus only on getting through one minute to the next. But halfway across the room, I seriously considered turning around and leaving.
Maybe I should just call this whole thing a wash.
What was the point anyway? I could already feel that old instinct creeping in, the one that told me this wasn’t worth it. That none of this, not the family expectations, the public perception, or trying to be something more, was worth the way I felt right now.
Maybe I should just let it all go.
Ignore the feeling I’d had the first time I held my nephew. The way something in my chest had clicked into place, like maybe there was more to life than I’d thought.
Ignore the way I felt watching Will fall in love with Eliza. The way he’d fought for her like there was no other option. Like loving her wasn’t just something he wanted, but something he needed.
Maybe I should just ignore it all and go back to what I know. All those bad old habits that had kept me from feeling like this for so long.
I could always move back to Miami, go back to sleeping with any girl in a thong, and turn myself back into a brick of dry ice, emotion-wise. Being that guy sure as hell hurt a lot less than this.
“Jesus, you look like you’re either about to start a fight or leave before Alex has even thought about giving his speech.”
I turned to see Nate suddenly beside me and pursed my lips. “Can it be both?”
He laughed but then studied me for a second before the amusement faded. “What’s the matter? You really don’t look so good.”
I almost laughed out loud. Where would I even start?
I’d blown up the best thing that had ever happened to me, and because of that, I couldn’t seem to function like a normal person anymore.
Or maybe I should tell him about how, for the first time in my life, I’m standing in a room full of people, knowing what everyone expects from me, but I don’t have it in me to fake it.
“I don’t even know,” I said honestly, squeezing the back of my neck.
Nate nodded like he understood what I was saying. “Yeah. I figured as much.”
“Where’s your better half?” I asked, leaning against the bar and turning to look out at the room, letting my gaze skip across the crowd while I waited for the bartender to get to us. “I haven’t seen her yet.”
“Neither have I.”
As I turned my head to look back at him, I saw a flash of white that was completely out of place in a room full of darker tones. My brain stalled for half a second before it caught up. Then it got rewired entirely.
Jacqueline?
She was here, looking like an angel in a white gown. The sight knocked the air straight out of my lungs, and every thought I’d just had, every plan to walk away, and every instinct to shut down were suddenly gone.
In their places was only her. She moved through the room like she was trying to hold herself together, her posture composed but her eyes searching. For me, it turned out. As soon as our eyes met, that was it. It was over.
There was no way I was ever going back.