in, but it was better than shoving it under a rug and pretending like the problem didn’t exist, which I’d had a tendency to do in the past.
Just before sundown on the third day of this mess, Tasha knocked on my door. I hadn’t seen nor spoken to her since arriving home from the hospital, and considering my state of paranoia after having my picture taken, I didn’t really have much to say. I knew she deserved to have her side heard; ignoring her wasn’t fair to either of us. So rather than pretend I didn’t hear her knock, I decided to answer it and let her in.
However, I wasn’t as prepared as I’d thought.
I’d grown so used to having her here, playing games, drinking a few beers together, laughing, and just having an all-around good time. Now, she took a seat on the couch in the same place she’d always sat before, but everything felt so different. The hint of a smile didn’t tease the corners of her lips, her laughter didn’t fill the room, and there was so much space between us—both literally and figuratively—that the scent of her shampoo didn’t make its way to my nose. Even the dull color of her eyes proved just how different this visit was from all the others.
“I’m really sorry, Jacoby.” Her quiet voice matched her eyes, gloomy and dismal.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I wasn’t thinking. I mean, I asked the woman at the front where you were.”
I so badly wanted to hold her hand, touch her in some way to ease the pain and guilt that riddled her body. But I couldn’t. The last thing I wanted was to give her mixed signals. That would only confuse things more than they already were. “I’m just as much to blame as you are; I wasn’t thinking, either. You might’ve asked about me, but I walked out with my arm around you. It was a stupid mistake with really horrible consequences that I’m still trying to deal with.”
She pulled her lips to the side while studying her wringing hands. Defeat. That’s what was written across her face. I could recognize it because I’d dealt with it, too. It consumed her entire existence; meanwhile, it choked the life out of me.
Defeat was a bitch that was hard to come back from.
“I talked to Ty yesterday. He said he got Tiff’s PR team ready to squash whatever story someone wants to tell. We weren’t doing anything wrong, so it’ll be easy to dismiss it as what it was—helping out a neighbor who’d been injured.”
I knew I’d meant more to her than just a neighbor, but hearing her say it that way felt like a million needles stabbing my heart. However, I had to bite back that emotion, had to hide it and keep her from coming to that realization. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful for your efforts to make this all blow over, because I’m not. But what you don’t understand is that when they figure out my name, neither you nor Tiffany’s PR team will be able to keep my past from being exploited. All that’s going to do is protect you—well, protect the great Tiffany Lewis from having her name dragged through the mud. It does nothing to protect me. Or Jessa.”
“What about your past are you so worried about being uncovered? If I knew that, then I’d be able to come up with a way to protect you and your sister as well.” Her eyes pleaded with me to tell her the truth.
But I just couldn’t. As of right now, we still stood a chance of working things out, providing my skeletons stayed buried. But the second she learned about my family, she’d be long gone. And I couldn’t blame her. “Trust me, if there was a way to make it all sound better, I would’ve done that a very long time ago.”
“Why won’t you tell me? I’ve told you everything about my life. I thought you told me about yours, too. What is so bad that you feel like you can’t confide in me?” Once again, she proved how innocent and amazing she was—nothing at all like her sister. The fact that she couldn’t come up with a single horrendous thing showed just how optimistic—and maybe even a tad naïve—her mindset was.
“I think it’s best if we let things cool off for a bit, see if it blows over.” Saying that made me feel like the biggest