Charlie reaches both hands up and grips my shoulders. I look down at her. “I’m not going to lie to you. She’s going to hate you at first. She’ll even refuse to see you in the beginning. And it’s the worst feeling. You’ll feel guilty that you may have done something wrong, that you didn’t try hard enough. But that won’t be true. And when she’s treated and better, she’ll thank you. Trust me.”
I swallow hard, nodding. “Okay.”
Charlie lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I’ll call you tomorrow. You can meet with her father and me and then we’ll set it all up. You’re doing the right thing, Logan.”
I nod. If this is the right thing, then why do I feel like shit right now?
“Let me have ten minutes with her before you come in,” I say. They nod. I step out of the car, knowing this is it. There’s no turning back. I’m going to break the heart of the one person I love.
With each step I take, my chest rips open a little more. How does someone look in the eyes of the person they love and say good-bye? Is this even love? I’m going to break her heart, tear it right out of her chest, because I claim to love her so much. How do I explain the reason why I’m going to hurt her? That it’s what’s best for her?
The reality is I can’t help her. No matter where we are—whether it’s the lake house or in our own little world in my shitty apartment—it doesn’t help. No matter how hard I try, I can’t help her. She needs more than what I can offer.
I swallow back the nerves lodged in my throat and open the door leading to my fate.
Jenna’s in the kitchen by the stove, her back facing me. I look around. My eyes scan the table filled with pots, pans, and food remnants. The counter is just about the same. The fridge door is open and a gallon of milk is spilling out all over the floor. I step forward, my boots squishing against the spilled liquid. Jenna spins around, spatula in hand. “You scared me!” She jumps, a smile settling on her face.
“What’s going on here?” I ask, taking in the mess.
“I wanted to make you something special to apologize about last night, and I didn’t know what to make. At first I was thinking of a cake, but you didn’t have any baking pans, and then I thought of something healthy, but there’s nothing healthy in the fridge. And I forgot how to get to the supermarket.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to leave the house anyway, so I settled for pancakes, but I couldn’t find the pan to cook it on, so I searched all over until—”
“Jenna,” I cut off her rambling. “It’s fine.” I take two steps, stand the milk container back up in the fridge, and step over the contents spilled on the floor.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes roaming over me as I remove the spatula from her hand and turn off the gas range.
“We need to talk.”
“I know. I’m sorry about last night. I promise I’ll get better. It’s just some days are really bad, and I don’t know how to control them. I promise, Logan, I’ll get better.” She reaches her hand to my face, pulling my stare from the counter to look at her face. I was trying to avoid making eye contact. I knew it’d be difficult.
I wet my lips nervously. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
My lips crush into hers. I pull her in, kissing her hard. “I’m sorry,” I mumble over her mouth.
Jersey Girl tries to pull away from my hold, her eyes wide “What are you talking about?”
I silence her again, tasting her, devouring every bit of her mouth before she leaves, before she’ll never speak to me again.
“Logan!” She pushes at my chest. I stumble back, my breathing heavy. Her eyes are zoomed in on me. “What are you sorry about?”
I raise my hands to caution her. “Before I tell you, please let me explain that I’m only looking out for your best interest.”
Jenna shifts, her mouth slightly open as if reading my mind. “What did you do?” I shake my head and step forward. “No. What did you do, Logan?” My gaze shifts to the curtain. Her eyes leave mine, lingering over the window. Her chest expands, and then she looks at me again. “You didn’t,” she pleads. Jenna storms over to the window. Flinging back the curtain, she looks out. “No. No. Logan. Why? Why would you call them?”
“Jenna, you need help. More than I can give you.”
She marches over, her fingers digging into her chest as if her heart hurts. Tears forming in her beautiful eyes, she cries, “Please don’t do this. I beg you, please. I need you, Logan. I don’t need them. You have to believe me, I’ll get better…” I feel small and pathetic. She’s begging me not to send her away. The pain in her voice and in her eyes stabs at my chest, breaking me apart.
My vision blurs as I fight back my own tears. “I’m sorry, Jenna. I… I… dammit!… you need this.”
She lifts a hand. “No!” Tears streaming down her cheeks, she yells, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. You said you’d never give up on me.” Her voice sounds rough through hard sobs.
Fuck. I feel useless. My chest feels heavy. I step forward and grip her face with my hands. Hoarsely I say, “I’m not giving up on you, Jenna. I will never give up on you. I love you. I’m only helping you.”
Her features fill with pain and her lip quivers as she shakes her head. “How can you say you love me but hurt me at the same time? If you loved me so much, I wouldn’t feel this broken.”
“Jenna.” My eyes scan her face. I’m hurting her. “I’ll always love you.” Her eyes shut tight and her body quivers as she lets out hard sobs.
The front door opens. Jenna’s father and Charlie storm through along with an assistant. I pull Jenna into me for one last hold, but I don’t want to let go.
What am I doing?
This is ridiculous. She’s fine. She can get better with me. “I changed my mind,” I say, my words muffled against Jenna’s hair while her face buries into my chest.
She clings to me. “Don’t let them take me. Please,” she cries out.
“Jenna, you need help,” Charlie says.
No, this wrong.
“Let go of her, son,” her father urges.
“We’ll probably need to sedate her if she doesn’t cooperate,” the assistant says.
“No!” Jenna lets out, her fingers digging into my flesh.