All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)(85)

“You ran.”

He nods and looks down. “And f*ck, then I find out it was even worse. I took your virginity that night. You entrusted that to me. And look at how I repaid you. I don’t blame you for how you’re feeling.”

Just say it, Jazz, I tell myself. Just throw it out there. “I got pregnant that night and lost the baby within weeks.”

His head snaps back, his eyes widening in shock. If he paled before, it’s nothing to now. His lips actually turn white.

Just saying it aloud after all these years shocks me too. My mouth feels dry, and I work to get some saliva to swallow.

“Oh, God,” Joey whispers. “Oh my God.” His eyes well and he expels a sharp puff of air.

He stands abruptly and steps past me, his fists bunching. His arms fold, then unfold repeatedly across his chest. Then he grabs behind his neck. He paces. He’s having a complete freak out without saying a word. He walks to the railing and leans against it, his neck and head seeming to sink between his shoulder blades.

Finally, he turns.

Looking at his face right now, I feel like I’m looking at his soul stripped bare. I can see all his pain and all his regret.

“I’m so sorry, Jazz. I’m so f*cking sorry.”

And I can tell he is.

My hand comes up of its own accord, resting on his cheek. But he doesn’t lean in or take the comfort I’m offering.

His jaw is tight, and I can see the moment when he sees the fall out. He inhales, like it’s the hardest breath he’s ever drawn. Like my hand is not on his cheek but buried deep in his chest, digging his heart out. “There’s no hope for us, is there?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I answer.





I’M ONLY TAKING one suitcase, but inside it I’ve packed another one. I’m not that stupid. I know I’m going to buy tons of useless shit all over South Africa and try and haul it all home with me. “I can handle it, Mom,” I tell her as she tries to take over removing it from the trunk of the car in the airport parking lot.

She sniffs. “Just let me do one more thing for my baby.”

“God, Mom. I’m not dying. I’m just going to another country.” I laugh, but I’m insanely touched that my departure is affecting her so much.

Keri Ann has texted me a gazillion times today already. And sent me instructions from a friend of Jack’s taken from the “dark web” on how to “jail break” my phone so I can use it internationally. I haven’t had a minute to even think about it.

Joey has shown up every day without fail. Just to hang out and accompany me on my ridiculously long list of errands. He hasn’t done one thing to come on to me or to talk about us. He’s simply been relentlessly friendly and kept me laughing. It’s strange to see this side of him again. The Joey who offered me a ride to do my lifeguard training, to drive me home, to drive Keri Ann and me everywhere we wanted to go when we were too young to drive. I can’t imagine the physical effort it’s taken to pretend everything is okay and friendly between us. But I accepted it gratefully. And by the time my departure day rolled around, almost believed we had a true friendship back.

He offered to take me to the airport, and when I told him my mom was doing it, I expected him to insist or at least tag along. But he nodded. And a small part of me hated that he didn’t fight harder.

He’d come by this morning and handed me a small box with instructions to open it on the plane. He hugged me hard and kissed me on the forehead. It was painful as much as it was a relief we wouldn’t have a long drawn out good-bye. Then he slipped out my sliding door and that was that.

I can’t lie. Our talk last week had shattered me. But it had been cathartic in a way. When I look deep inside my heart, all I know is that the pain and anger may be finally seeping away. I’m still in love with Joseph Butler. I love him. But I am letting him go. We both need time to heal. If we find our way back to each other one day, we’ll have a chance. More than a chance, I hope.

Mom and I walk into the small airport terminal in Hilton Head. There’s one check in desk. Only one airline. I’ll change planes in Charlotte. I recognize the girl behind the counter as someone who’d been in school a few years ahead of me. She checks my passport, asks me about the contents of my bag, looks at my hand luggage, and then before I know it I have my boarding passes in my hand for the next three legs of my flight.

That’s when my heart starts pounding with nerves, prickling cold sweat breaking out across my neck and forehead.

There isn’t even a snack bar in the one room airport building. I could really use a shot or something. I can’t believe I’m really doing this.

“You got your camera?” Mom asks.

I pat my backpack and think about Joey’s gift in there too.

She walks me to the single metal detector that makes up the security section of the airport. I can see the small plane about two hundred yards away out the window. There are only nine or ten other passengers, and they are all sitting near the door out to the runway.

“Okay, Mom. I guess I’ll go through and sit down for a bit.”

“You’ll be sitting for the next thirty-six hours.”

“I’ll be sure to walk around while I’m in transit.”

“You do that.”

I draw my mom into a hug, holding her close and breathing into her hair. Her sweet floral perfume invades my senses. “I love you, Mom. Thank you for everything you did for me. For getting me here.”