44. Jameson
Chapter forty-four
Jameson
I’ve been to the bathroom six times since Lila told me Bryn was in Arizona and on her way here right now. It can’t be good news that she decided to drive all the way to Arizona yesterday.
After I’d been to the bathroom twice in ten minutes, Lila politely inquired as to the state of my GI health. The two middle fingers I shot her way did nothing to deter JT from asking me the next time if he needed to go buy me some Tums. At this point, I’m not even going into the stalls. It’s just direction for the pacing currently sandwiching my self-reflection time.
I am a fucking idiot. Each time I look into the mirror, each step I take along my well-worn path to the bathroom, each beat of my heart, reminds me of this indisputable fact.
I am a fucking idiot who may have lost the love of his life.
The girl of my dreams.
My happily ever after.
And while I would understand if Bryn decides to dump my ass after the way I left her on her own after the article came out, my heart would never be the same. I know for a fact that Bryn is it for me. And now that I’ve had her, now that I know what love truly feels like, I know I can’t settle for anything less than what I have with Bryn.
Which is why I can’t get my feet or my brain to settle down. As I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, my hands braced on either side of the white porcelain sink, I know I’m at a crossroads. Bryn is going to walk in any minute now, and she holds my happiness in the palm of her hand. I’m not sure how, after everything with Alexis, I ended up handing my heart over so easily, but with Bryn, it’s always been that easy. It’s been the type of love I saw with my parents. The support. The holding hands. The casual acts of love and kindness that build into a great love story.
Shit. She could walk through those doors any minute now. I give myself one last look in the mirror, one final word of warning— Don’t fucking mess this up, Jameo— and head back out into the bar.
JT and Lila are at the table, arguing about something, likely me, based on the way they stop talking every time I get back to the table. I don’t even bother asking again what they were talking about.
I sink down on the dark faux leather booth, making sure I keep an eye on the door.
“How long until they are here?” I ask, running my hand through my already disheveled hair.
Lila makes a show of checking her watch, the bright face lighting up as she flicks her wrist over. “Any time now. Like I told you when you asked two minutes ago before you stomped off to do God knows what in the bathroom.”
She’s trying to distract me. I know she is. But dammit, I can’t help but take the bait. “What, exactly, do you think I’m getting up to in there, Lila? Do you have some nefarious bathroom exploits you’d like to share with the class?”
JT snort-coughs so hard that liquid flies from his mouth (maybe nose, but I’m a good friend, so I’m choosing to overlook that possibility). Lila watches, a devious glint in her eye. One I know well from growing up together. “Actually,” she starts. “Now that you mention it, there was this time in a hotel room, and the counter top was juuuust—”
“Jesus Christ, Lila,” I cut in, passing a wad of napkins to JT, who is about to die next to me. “I obviously don’t want to know the details of your sex life. In my mind, you are and will forever be an asexual blob.”
“Oh, really?” she asks, looking at me. Then she turns her full attention to the poor man next to me who seems to be sending his drink out all the wrong . “What about you, JT? Do you see me as an asexual blob?”
But I don’t hear his answer because at that moment, the air shifts, and a pull from deep inside me draws my attention to the door opening at the front of the bar and the beautiful woman walking inside, flanked by her two sisters. I would know the lines of that face anywhere. That body that could make stronger men than me weak at the knees. The lips that turn into a smile that, when earned, is one of the very best rewards in the world.
I’m out of my seat before the door finishes closing behind her, forcing myself not to run or create a scene in my haste to reach her. Not to scoop her into my arms, throw her over my shoulder, and keep her locked up until she agrees to forgive me. Instead, I meet her halfway to our table and, when I see the look of hurt and confusion on her face, pull her into a deep hug. Her face presses up against my chest, and, for one heart-stopping moment, she doesn’t return the hug. But then she’s sliding her arms around my waist and leaning into me, and a small ember of hope lights in my chest as I breathe in her scent.
I know that ember could end up burning me, though. Forgiveness is not something I’ve earned at this point. I know that. It’s very possible Bryn will still decide this isn’t worth it. I’m not worth it.
Over her sister’s shoulder, Kelsey raises her eyebrow at me, and I catch Izzy as she whispers behind her hand, “Did he just sniff her hair?” I honestly can’t care what they think right now. I close my eyes and inhale deeply again, resting my cheek on the hair that I did, in fact, just sniff. I’ve got Bryn in my arms, and I will do everything in my power to keep her here.
“Hi, baby,” I whisper into the top of her head. Her shoulders start shaking, and I am shocked when I pull her back and see the tears streaming down her face.
“Fuck,” I breathe, knowing that Bryn is not someone who cries often, who abhors the thought of crying in public. Pulling her back into my arms, I look to her sisters. Am I going to lose her? Is it this bad? I try to telegraph with my eyes.
Kelsey’s eyes are skeptical and seem to be saying “Of course it is, you dumbass.” Izzy, I’m having a hard time deciphering her look, but it seems to be a combination of “go fuck yourself” and “I’m rooting for you two kids.” That’s not confusing at all.
Someone clears their throat next to me, and a look from JT, who is now standing next to me in the middle of the bar, reminds me that I’m not alone. That I am a public figure standing in a public place, holding a crying woman. A woman who has received more press this week than she’s ever wanted in her entire life. A woman I left alone, like the fucking idiot I am, to deal with it herself.
I start to turn us back to the table, but Kelsey stops me.
“Bryn has her car key.” She looks between us. “But maybe you should be the one to drive her car.”
“I don’t… I don’t feel great about leaving you all,” I start, but Izzy shakes her head.
“We’ll hang out here for a while and then catch an Uber to our hotel. I don’t think the conversation you all need to have is really one you want to have here, and—” Izzy glares at me as she adds, “I don’t want Bryn to be stuck somewhere without her car.”
“Iz.”
Bryn’s first word since getting here throws me off guard. It’s not that I had forgotten about her. It was more that she had become a part of me, sunken into my soul like the snow melting into the earth, becoming one, in the minutes I had held her.
“It’s just being smart, B. Don’t give me that look.”
I swear I can feel Bryn’s eye roll.
“Are you—” I start but have to swallow the lump rising in my throat before I can finish. “Are you okay with going back to my hotel with me?” She moves back slightly, and I look down at Bryn just as she looks up at me. Her eyes are a deep blue today, a color I’ve never seen before, and it makes me wonder what other colors they can be. What other colors I will miss seeing, miss loving, if I lose her?
And in that moment I know, without a doubt, I will do whatever it takes to keep her. I will give up the spotlight, I will give up golf, I will give up every dollar I’ve ever made if it means I get to spend my life with this woman.
She nods, a tentative smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
The emotions I’ve been trying to contain since she walked through the door are back, and I try not to let them overwhelm me, to let them overwhelm her. So I give her a smile and wrap my hand around hers, tugging her back toward the front.
“Thank you both for getting her to me,” I tell her sisters as I walk by.
“Don’t make us regret it,” Izzy responds.
“I won’t.”
As I pull open the door and tug Bryn through, I watch our sisters and JT all head back to the booth, shooting us furtive glances as they go.
With some guidance from Bryn, we find the car, and, as soon as I close Bryn’s door, I hustle around to the other side, sliding in and grabbing her hand. She doesn’t pull away, which I take as a good sign. I want to have this conversation now. I want to apologize. I want to beg until she forgives me. But I also know the parking lot is not the right place.
Navigating through the quiet streets, I rub my left thumb back and forth on the seam of the steering wheel, my pace increasing with each passing moment. Bryn’s silence weighs heavily in the car, a tangible reminder of the chasm that has grown between us. The city sights flicker past, casting fleeting shadows on her face as she stares out the window, lost in her thoughts. The tension builds until I finally can’t take it anymore.
“I’m so sorry, Bryn,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.
“What happened, Jameo?” Her voice is soft, laced with a mixture of curiosity and pain.
“It’s fucking Alexis,” I begin, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “Of course it is. She—”
“No,” Bryn interjects, her tone gentle yet firm. “I’m not talking about the article. I—” She pauses, drawing in a deep breath. “I know you broke your phone, but why did you go radio silent on me? You could’ve reached out some other way.”
Her question hangs in the air, heavy with accusation and hurt. I swallow hard, grappling with the shame swirling inside me.
“Bryn,” I begin, my voice hoarse with emotion. “After I found out about the article, I... I was mad. I could tell based on some of the comments that Alexis was one of the sources. And then my phone... I smashed it in a fit of rage. But you’re right, I should’ve figured out a way. I should’ve had my parents call Lila and have her drive to Wild Bluffs to find you. I should’ve found your sister’s number online. I should’ve called Hungry Guy and had them leave you a message. I should’ve borrowed JT’s phone and emailed your work email. Anything to let you know you’re not alone. I’m so sorry, Bryn.”
She nods, turning her face toward the window again, pulling herself together as we pull up outside of my hotel. I park in the lot and meet her behind the car, grabbing her hand before she has the chance to walk away.
“Where’s Jack?” I ask, trying like hell to make this feel normal. I know the minute we are in my room I will be groveling with everything I have, but for now, I just need to feel the comfort, the spark of hope that I didn’t ruin this.
“Mom and Dad have him. He likes it there best anyway, despite JoJo antagonizing him constantly.”
The half-hearted smile she gives me makes it clear that even the image of her dog getting annoyed by her parents’ black Lab isn’t enough to bring a real smile to her face.
I force a smile back, and we ride the elevator in silence before getting out on the sixth floor and making our way to my room, where I key us in, my hand noticeably shaky.
Bryn enters and walks across the room to stare out my floor-to-ceiling windows. “Everyone told me you were ghosting me.” The hurt in her voice as she says it breaks my heart.
“I wasn’t—”
“I know. I told them you wouldn’t ever do that to me. You’re not that type of guy. But the silence, it hurt.”
“I just… I knew I needed to focus on my game. It was stupid and selfish, and I can’t believe how insensitive I was. I never meant for you to feel alone or to hurt you. I just couldn’t get a phone, so I tried not to let it distract me.”
Bryn’s gaze softens. “I understand your need to focus. And I’d like to say that any other day I wouldn’t have minded, but the truth is I want to hear from you. Going a day without hearing from you would’ve been brutal, even without the article.”
I nod, my heart aching at the pain I have caused her. “I feel the same way.”
At her skeptical eyebrow raise, I continue, “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I do! I wanted to talk to you. I kept reaching for my phone to text you. It’s like I was having imaginary conversations with you, so it was like you were there. But I’m not making excuses. I didn’t mean to, but I was so focused on what I needed that I shut you out when you needed me the most, and I can’t... I can’t forgive myself for that.”
Tears well in Bryn’s eyes, shimmering in the bright light of the room. “Jameo,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with emotion. “I understand why you did what you did. And I appreciate that you weren’t trying to hurt me. But...but I can’t shake this feeling that I’m not... I’m not right for you. That we aren’t right for each other.”
“That’s not true, Bryn. We are. We are perfect for each other.” I gently wipe a tear that escaped and is now running down the side of her face.
“I called in sick today. I needed to see you so bad that I called in sick the last workday before my big presentation,” she says.
I hadn’t even thought about the fact that today is a workday for Bryn. I knew her presentation was Monday, but the timing of this is the worst. It’s truly like all the stars are aligning against us. But fuck the stars, I won’t let them ruin what I have with Bryn.
“I’m sorry, Bryn. I’m so sorry.”
“I know. I appreciate that. But it’s not just about missing work today. It’s about our lives not actually lining up. It’s not likely, but I might get this promotion—”
“You will,” I cut in.
She shoots me an exasperated look and continues, “And I’ll be less nomadic. I’ll likely have to move to California full-time.”
“They have golf courses there,” I say.
“I won’t be able to come to your tournaments. I’ll have to actually build time into my schedule to come and visit my family instead of just crashing at their houses.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
“You’ll realize I can’t be a good girlfriend and good at my job.”
Her words cut through me like a knife, slicing through the facade I have carefully constructed around my heart. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re already the best girlfriend, and you’re great at your job.”
“Peter,” she starts, and I release a growl at the name of her ex on her lips. She puts her hand on my chest as she continues, “Peter and his family never thought I was good enough for them. Mrs. Easley couldn’t stand the way I would show up in my work clothes, hair pulled back in a casual bun, talking about my job instead of Peter’s. It was like everything I was proud of about myself, everything I liked about myself, was wrong. I tried to be in both places. I tried to be both women. I tried to excel at my job and be there for Peter, but it didn’t work. I wasn’t enough. I failed at both things.”
My heart breaks for my usually confident girlfriend, and I want to pummel the man who made her think she was less than the absolutely perfect woman that she is. “Love, that’s such—”
“Look, I like who I am. I’m proud of who I am and what I’ve accomplished so far in my life. Would I like to lose five pounds and stop cussing around the kids in town? Sure. But who doesn’t have one or two things to work on? What I don’t like, what I can’t force myself into again, is a life where I feel like I’m failing for being that person. I love you, Jameson, but I can’t be the girlfriend you need me to be.”
“I don’t want you to be that person, Bryn!” I shout before catching myself and bringing my voice back to a normal range. “I love how much you love your career. I would never ask you to change that. I love how laid-back you are. I love your body and your potty mouth. I love that you would rather wear jeans than a dress. And I don’t give a fuck how you wear your hair as long as I can wrap it around my hand when I’m fucking you from behind.”
Her eyes flare at that last statement, and, as much as I want to bend her over the desk in the corner and do just that—I can already feel the silky hairs pulling across my knuckles—I know she doesn’t quite believe me yet.
I hate where this is going. I can see her steeling herself to break both of our hearts.
“Jameo, I—”
“Don’t,” I all but beg. “Please don’t, Bryn.”
The tears are back, spilling down her cheeks, leaving trails as they fall.
I continue, “Don’t make any decisions right now. I know the last couple of days have been brutal. I know you have the most important presentation of your life on Monday. Just focus on that. I will text you and call you every day and won’t even expect you to respond or pick up the phone. You focus on your presentation. Then we can talk more about us. About our future. Because if I have anything to say about it, we will have a future, Bryn.”
“I don’t know, Jameson. It feels like putting off the inevitable.”
“It’s not, Bryn. Please just try. For me?”
I need her to agree. I need to have a chance to make this right. To make it up to her. To show her that our love is stronger than she thinks it is right now. I completely understand why she is uncertain, but I’m confident enough for the both of us. I broke her Barbie house, but I’m going to make it right.
Before she can answer, I play my trump card. “You still owe me. From our first round together. I won. I won one thing of my choosing. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing us.”
“Okay,” she breathes, looking shocked that I remembered our bet from so long ago. “Okay. But I’m going to… I’m going to head out for tonight.”
I nod, pulling her into one last hug before letting her go with a kiss to the forehead. I know I have to let her go, but watching that door shut behind her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.