Love Left Behind (49 page)

"That's
sick," I whispered. "I don't want to hear anymore." I turned
away, trying to pull out of his grasp but he held tight.

"Not so
fast," Jackson said in a soft dangerous voice. "It's your turn."

"Do you want to
hear that I slept with other men? Fine, I've slept with other men." My
voice was trembling, sadness and anger warring with each other. "Do you
want to know if I enjoyed it? Yes, I enjoyed it. Did it compare to what I felt
with you? No, it's like comparing a flashlight to the sun. Are you satisfied
now?"

Jackson closed his
eyes, his mouth twisting as he swallowed hard. He looked furious when he opened
his eyes. "How many?" he bit out.

"You said you
would never hurt me again," I whispered, unable to hold in my tears
anymore. "You're hurting me, Jackson. And you're destroying any chance we
have."

The anger on Jackson's
face was replaced with terror as he clutched me closer, looking desperate.
"Emma, I'm not doing this to hurt you. I just-" Jackson stopped and
bowed his head, not looking at me. "I don't know what happened to me. I've
become fucked up. I've been fucked up since you left me, but now that you're
back in my life, I can't seem to stop being fucked up." He raised his
head, looking vulnerable and sad. "Help me, sweetheart. You're the only
one that can save me from myself."

My heart surged as I
cradled Jackson's head in my hands and pulled him towards me, my lips brushing
against his cheek. "You're not fucked up. You're Jackson Reynard,
Hollywood heartthrob and movie star. Any woman would be lucky to be with
you."

"Including
you?"

"Especially
me," I whispered. My lips moved over to his mouth, showering him with
light gentle kisses. "I get to see the man behind the fame. And he's even
more amazing than anyone could imagine. I love you, Jackson."

Jackson groaned,
crushing me to him as he increased the pressure of our kiss. We fumbled our way
into the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. I showed Jackson with my body
how much I loved him, telling him without words that no man could compare to
him. In return, Jackson made me feel cherished and loved.

Afterwards, in the
quiet intimacy after our lovemaking, we promised each other that whatever we
had done in the past didn't matter. I fell asleep in Jackson's arms, feeling
content and peaceful.

The next morning,
Jackson dropped the New York Post on the breakfast table along with the bagels
he had run out to get. "Check page six."

I warily opened the
newspaper and gulped when I saw that a large picture of us in an embrace on the
dance floor dominated the page. The intensity of our expressions was clear as
day, my arms wrapped around Jackson's arms as he gazed down at me hungrily. The
caption read
"Jackson Reynard and
Emma Mills looking cozy on the dance floor."

In addition to the
picture, there was a short article beneath it and I read it with bated breath.

Jackson Reynard burned
up the dance floor with date, Emma Mills, at the launch of Marc Bradley's new
lounge, Hydra. With all the press about Reynard's recent split with Candace
Stile, we were surprised that he would make such a public appearance. Then
again, Reynard has been surprising us all lately, with his candor about his
relationship with Mills. Reynard is known for keeping his private life out of
the public eye, but long-lost flame Mills seems to be bringing out a new side
to him. Partygoers reported that they were inseparable at Hydra and couldn't
take their eyes off each other.

"It's so weird to
read about myself in the paper." I studied Jackson. "Do you ever get
used to it?"

"Honestly, I
rarely ever pay attention to it. There's so much garbage out there, most of it
manufactured." Jackson looked grim as he continued. "It's different
now that you're involved. I felt like pummeling every reporter I could find
when I read the stories they wrote about you when news first broke about
us."

I smiled, covering
Jackson's fist on the table with my hand. "I appreciate the sentiment, but
I'd prefer it if you kept your fist out of range of reporters' faces. They're
not worth it."

Jackson nodded but
looked unconvinced. I distracted him by opening the bag of bagels, pulling out
an egg bagel which I knew was his favorite. "Do you want yours
toasted?"

"No, thanks."
Jackson's eyes lit up when I pulled out the tub of cream cheese, looking over
at me suggestively. I burst out laughing at his lascivious expression.

"Not today. I'm
still sore from last night. We'll have to postpone using the cream cheese
indecently."

Jackson looked
disappointed, but a corner of his mouth lifted up in a smile. "I'll hold
you to that." Jackson grabbed a cinnamon raison bagel that was already cut
in half from the bag and started spreading a thin layer of cream cheese on top.

"What do you want
to do today?"

I watched as Jackson
finished spreading the cream cheese and placed it on a plate that I had brought
out from the kitchen earlier, pushing it towards me. Despite all the changes in
Jackson, he was still as sweet and considerate as ever, remembering what I
liked and always thinking of me first. The core of Jackson was still the same.

I bit into my bagel as
Jackson started spreading most of the cream cheese left in the tub on his
bagel. I had an idea but I didn't know how receptive Jackson would be to it.

"Why don't we
redecorate your place today?"

Jackson stilled, and
then slowly lowered his bagel. "What do you mean?"

"Jackson, we're
starting fresh. I don't want the ghosts of our past ruining our future. I don't
think it's a good idea to keep your apartment like a shrine to what we were
like five years ago. We don't need that anymore. We have each other
today."

Jackson smiled slowly,
his happiness making my soul feel full. "I guess we could do a little
redecorating today."

It was just a start,
but we spent the day buying small things that changed the feeling of Jackson's
apartment. New curtains and a rug made the living room look updated, and a new
bedspread in a lighter color make the bedroom brighter. Jackson protested when
I wanted to get rid of the pictures of me on the dresser, but we compromised by
putting one picture of us on top instead. Jackson had been surprised when I had
pulled out the picture of us embracing on top of the Empire State building that
I had brought from my apartment. The one that used to sit on my desk at Mass
Comm. I hadn't been able to get rid of it, a memory of a perfect day. I had
spent hours staring at that picture over the past five years, wondering if we
were truly happy in that moment. I had tortured myself, wondering if Jackson
had slept with Claire that day, if that had been why he looked so luminescent
and happy.

However, Jackson and I
had promised each other last night that the past no longer mattered. And I was
going to stay true to that promise. I had told Trisha that I was going to ask
Jackson why he had cheated on me with Claire, but last night I had decided to
let everything go, including Jackson's unfaithfulness. Instead of the decision
making me feel weak, it felt freeing.

Jackson promised that
we would shop for furniture another day so that we could make some real changes
to his apartment. We spent the night at his place, and instead of expecting to
see ghosts of ourselves from five years ago around every corner, I reveled in
being in the arms of Jackson today. As domineering as he could be at times. the
flesh and blood Jackson was a thousand times better than a memory.

I faced Monday feeling
refreshed and optimistic. Although there were reporters waiting outside
Jackson's apartment building, they were more laid back and asked questions as
if we were friends. One photographer even graciously caught my arm as I
stumbled when my heel caught in a crack on the sidewalk. Jackson glowered at
the man, pulling me closer to him, but he forced a smile when I rolled my eyes
at him.

I spent the morning
being productive and Marie informed me that calls from the media were down to a
trickle. Celeste had stopped by to nag me about when we were going out for that
drink Jackson had mentioned, and I promised that I would arrange it as soon as
possible. When she mentioned that Drew was back in town, I felt a little
nervous. I had ignored his call last week when news of Jackson and I broke, and
in the frenzy of deleting all the voicemails from the media, I had mistakenly
deleted his as well.

I was eating a salad
while reviewing ROI reports when there was a knock on my open door. I saw Drew
leaning on the doorframe when I looked up.

"Hi, Drew. Come
in."

Drew walked into my
office and sat down in the chair opposite my desk, looking contemplative.

"I've been worried
about you."

"I'm so sorry I
didn't call you back, Drew," I rushed to explain. "It's just been
crazy these past few days and I was getting so many calls that I deleted a
bunch of voicemails before realizing I had erased yours."

Drew nodded, an
enigmatic expression on his face. "My sister called me, demanding to know
whether or not I was in a love triangle with you and Jackson Reynard. I had no
idea what she was talking about until she sent me the links."

I swallowed, feeling
bad that I had dragged Drew into this. Fortunately, the early stories
speculating about Drew's involvement had petered out once the press really sunk
their teeth into the triangle between me, Jackson and Candace.

"I'm sorry, Drew.
The last thing I wanted to do was involve you in this mess."

"It's okay. Except
for those few pictures online, I haven't been involved. But I was worried about
you. The tabloids seemed to be coming after you."

"It was a little
rough for a while," I sighed. "But it's gotten better."

Drew hesitated before
speaking. "Is it true? Did you and Jackson have a relationship in the
past? Are you together again?"

I was a little
surprised by Drew's questions. Even though we had become friends, it felt a
little too personal for him to ask about Jackson. Still, I figured that I owed
him some sort of explanation since he had been forced to play a minor role in
all of this.

"It's true that
Jackson and I dated a long time ago. And we're giving our relationship another
shot."

Drew's shoulders
slumped a bit at my words. "I guess I can't compete with the likes of
Jackson Reynard."

I bit my lip, taken
aback by Drew's statement. I thought Drew had accepted our relationship as
strictly platonic, not realizing that he had held some hope out for it turning
into something more.

"We're friends,
Drew," I said gently. "You're an invaluable ally at work, and I enjoy
all our lunches together. But there was never the possibility of more."

Drew nodded, looking a
little embarrassed but accepting my answer with grace. "I hope we can stay
friends."

"Of course.
Besides, someone needs to help you keep Celeste out of your personal life. I've
been trying to teach her about boundaries."

Drew grinned, no longer
looking uncomfortable. "I think that's a losing battle."

Drew left my office
after a promise of lunch sometime this week, and I was relieved that things had
gone so well between us. The rest of the day was uneventful except for
Jackson's call to inform me that Candace's publicist had released a statement.
The gist of it was that she was happy for Jackson and me and held no ill
feelings towards us, despite everything that had happened. She didn't mention
the misunderstanding that Jackson had used as an excuse to explain why Candace
thought he had cheated on her. Jackson said Candace probably didn't care
anymore because her single was selling like crazy.

I was relieved that it
seemed like things were finally dying down and getting back to normal. I had
agreed to spend the night at Jackson's apartment after I was done for the day,
and the thought of Jackson waiting for me made me rush to finish my work. I no
longer questioned all the time we were spending together. If I had learned one
thing during the time we had been apart, it was to never take for granted how
much time you had left to spend with someone. I wasn't going to waste any time
being apart unless necessary.

Craig was waiting for
me outside my office building, as usual. Jackson was still adamant that I
needed Craig and I didn't argue. If Jackson wanted to be protective of me, I
wasn't going to protest.

I let myself into
Jackson's apartment with the key he had given me that morning, but I didn't see
him anywhere.

"Jackson?" I
called out. I wandered into the bedroom and heard the shower running. Jackson's
head popped out of the shower curtain, his wet hair slicked back making him
look rakishly dashing.

"Hi, sweetheart. I
just came back from working out. I picked up some takeout from Romero's."

I walked over and
leaned towards Jackson, giving him a soft kiss. Jackson's eyes traveled down my
body wickedly when we broke apart. "Although we might have to take care of
some other business first before we eat. You're more than welcome to join me in
the shower."

I laughed, shaking my
head. "You're insatiable. And I need to eat first to be able to keep up
with you."

Jackson grinned from
ear to ear and stuck his head back in the shower. "I'll be right out. Can
you answer my phone if it rings? Marcie is supposed to call me about the Vanity
Fair interview."

"Sure." I
left Jackson to his shower and went into the kitchen, eyeing the bag of food
from Romero's on the counter. My stomach grumbled in response to the aroma of
garlic and sauce wafting from the bag and I grabbed two plates from the cupboard
to set the table. I was getting out the cutlery when I heard Jackson's cell
phone ringing, and I rushed to grab it from the coffee table.