Fallen Woman(50)

He stood again, staring down at me, towering over me as though he meant to intimidate me. Suddenly, with both hands on the arms of my chair, he was inches from my face and his was beet red. Through clenched teeth, he punched out the words, “My resources are your resources, Gia.”

I pushed him away, standing as close to face to face as I could with him. “No, Jase. Your resources are yours. We aren’t a couple. We aren’t together. You own the company I work for. You’re my friend. But I’m not that girl. I refuse to become her. I will not be the girl your friends are referring to when they talk about women looking at men as paychecks. Emmy is my responsibility, and I will take care of her the best way I can. Why do you think I sold my soul to your friends? You think I wanted to be a high-class call girl? Do you think that appeals to me in any way, shape, or form? If so, you’re sorely mistaken! I never envisioned this in my life. I didn’t make the choices that led me here, Jase, but I’ve come out of worse and I’ll get out of this, but it won’t be by asking for handouts!” I was fuming. My arms remained stiff at my sides, my hands balled into tight fists.

“That is the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard you say. This isn’t about your pride, Gianna. This is about your daughter needing medical care. Have you seen the pain she’s in?” The way he looked at me, the way he regarded me in his tone was more I than I could handle.

Out of nowhere, my hand flew across his cheek. The sound reverberated throughout the room, bouncing off the walls. It was a crack of noise I’d never forget.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I left the room. I had no idea where I was going or how I’d get there. My kids were asleep, and I had no car, so leaving wasn’t really an option, but wandering around his enormous house, trying to find a place of solitude, didn’t appeal to me, either. Taking the stairs two at a time, the only thought I had was getting out of his presence. Desperate for a place to break down alone, I ran through the front door and into the street.

The night air was cool and crisp, unusual for this time of year. I didn’t have a jacket, but the brisk pace kept the chill from setting in. Wandering the streets of his neighborhood, which were illuminated by lamps overhead, I crossed over every detail of the last two years in my mind. I’d done this before. I’d rummage through those memories, played back what I should have done, how things would have been different, but in the end, nothing changed. I still had a sick daughter with a disease I couldn’t cure, and neither could anyone else. I’d probably never come to terms with that, but sometimes, allowing myself to remember helped remind me of where I didn’t want to go—ever again. I’d never be complacent in her recovery. I’d do what I had to do. The fact that Jase couldn’t see my concessions, my sacrifices, didn’t mean they weren’t real—it simply meant he didn’t know. But I didn’t answer to Jase Lane.

I didn’t know how long I was gone or how far I’d walked, but when I went back to his house, the front porch light was on, the foyer was illuminated, but the rest of the house was dark as Egypt. He hadn’t waited up. There was no concern for my well-being. Jase had gone to bed and left me to fend for myself. It was a position I was accustomed to being in, and one I expected when this revelation came about. Quietly, I wandered through the house until I reached the room my children were in. I peeked in to make sure they were safe and sound and found Jase sitting in the corner.

I didn’t know what to do, so I stood there like a daft cow. He got up and walked to the door, pushing me out without touching me, and closed the door behind him. With my hand in his, he escorted me through the house and down two flights of stairs. Silently, he handed me a T-shirt and a pair of his boxers. He pulled off his own shirt, leaving him in the jersey shorts that could bring any woman to her knees. I dragged myself from the room to change in the bathroom.

When I came out, the lights were off and he was in bed. He wasn’t talking to me…I didn’t know if I should get in bed with him or find another bedroom. Standing in the doorway like an idiot, my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and the second I moved to leave, he pulled the covers back on the opposite side of the bed. With a few steps, I was in the bed, stiff as a board, not knowing what to do. Sleep would evade me. I couldn’t stand Jase being upset with me, but I couldn’t change the past. There was nothing I could do to erase the hell Emmy had endured and continued to live with. I had to live with that guilt; I had to suffer that truth.

He turned on his side and roughly grabbed my waist. My body slid toward him effortlessly, but I remained quiet. Words escaped me. But luckily, I didn’t have to talk. As he turned me on my side and nestled my back to his chest, he squeezed one arm around my waist and pushed the other under my head. I waited, wondering where he was going with this. He reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear before pulling me in tighter.

“I’m sorry, Gia.”

I nodded but knew words were pointless. I’d lose my composure and nothing would change. My history couldn’t be rewritten and my child was still sick.

“Goodnight, Jase.” It was all I could muster.

“Night, love.”

His breathing evened out shortly thereafter, and I knew he was asleep. I laid awake for hours analyzing that one word. He’d called me babe. He always called me Gia, but he’d never called me love.





Chapter Eleven