Craig still followed behind me in his SUV, trailing behind my cab. The letter was burning a hole in my purse, but I refused to look at it all day, trying to concentrate on my work. Now that the press seemed to have lost their interest in me, the calls from the media had stopped except for an odd inquiry here and there. It was a relief that they were no longer waiting outside my apartment building, and it was a small comfort that no one seemed to be interested in my relationship with Jackson anymore. Oh, there were gleams of interest in people's eyes, but the rabid fascination was gone.
I was determinedly working through lunch when Marie buzzed me from her desk.
"Yes, Marie?"
"Drew is here to see you."
I had made it a habit to keep my door closed lately, not wanting people to drop by unexpectedly. Celeste had been relentless in trying to figure out why I was so glum, but she had eventually gotten the message when I consistently told her I was fine and refused to take the conversation any further. Drew had made a few attempts at asking me to lunch, but I had excused myself with the explanation that I had too much work. Marie had been given strict instructions not to let anyone in my office without my explicit permission. It was far different from the open door policy I used to have.
I sighed at Marie's announcement, not wanting to see Drew but feeling that it was too rude to have Marie make another excuse for me.
"Send him in, please."
I watched Drew cautiously enter my office, his eyes zeroing in on mine as he sat down in the chair across my desk. He propped an ankle on the opposite leg, studying me before he spoke.
"You look like hell."
I couldn't suppress a small smile at his pronouncement. "Gee, thanks."
Drew didn't return the smile, looking concerned. "Seriously, Emma. What's going on? Celeste is beside herself because you won't talk to her. You just lock yourself behind your office door except for meetings."
I shrugged. "I'm getting my work done. No one has any reason to complain."
"I'm not discussing your work ethic. I know your work hasn't been suffering." Craig frowned. "I'm concerned about you, not your damn work."
"Drew, I appreciate your concern but I'm fine."
"I don't believe you. When's the last time you had a decent meal? You look like you're wasting away."
My appetite had vanished this past week, and I knew my clothes were starting to hang on me. It had only taken a heart ripped to shreds to lose those few extra pounds that I could never seem to get rid of. But combined with my dark circles and hollowed cheeks, I knew I looked sick instead of svelte.
"Actually, I was just about to go to lunch. So if you'll excuse me..." I trailed off when Drew jumped up, proffering his arm.
"Perfect timing. I was going to ask you to lunch."
"Drew," I said warningly. I wasn't in the mood for company and I didn't appreciate Drew trying to manipulate me into lunch.
"Emma, please. Let me be your friend. You don't have to discuss anything you don't want to. It'll just give me some peace of mind to watch you eat an actual meal."
I sighed, but I was touched by Drew's concern. I took his arm, telling myself that it was time to start living my life instead of being holed up in my office and apartment, not wanting to face the world.
We went to a cafe around the corner, and Drew stayed true to his promise about not pushing me to talk about what was bothering me. I was grateful that he kept the conversation light, making me laugh with stories about Celeste's latest attempts to infiltrate his personal life. I was keenly aware of Craig waiting outside the restaurant. He had followed us when we had left our office building and was presently leaning against the SUV, watching us through the window of the cafe. I wondered if he was going to report all the details back to Jackson. The possibility made me laugh a little louder than necessary at Drew's jokes, pretending that I was having the time of my life when, in reality, no funny story could erase the pain I felt. Drew glanced at Craig when he saw my attention straying constantly towards him, but he didn't comment.
After lunch and a promise to Drew that we would go out for drinks sometime soon, I spent the rest of the day engrossed in my work. I had given Drew a false promise, but I made it just the same, willing to agree to anything to keep him off my back.
My mind kept going to the letter in my purse, but I forced myself to not rip it open. I wanted to wait until I was in the privacy of my own apartment to read it, not wanting anyone to witness me breaking down. I had no idea what the letter said, but I had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.
When I finally made it home after work, I kicked off my heels and placed Jackson's letter on the coffee table, sitting on the couch and staring at it. Minutes passed, although it seemed much longer as I contemplated the sealed letter, wondering how much its contents were going to hurt me. When I couldn't take it anymore, I picked up the envelope and ripped it open. Jackson's bold handwriting jumped out at me.
Emma,
To say this past week has been painful would be an understatement. I know that you're upset I contacted Claire, but please don't let it ruin everything we have. I swear to you that nothing happened between us while you and I have been together. I haven't spoken to Claire in years, let alone seen her. I didn't even realize she was in New York until recently. I spoke to Mia the other day, and she told me that Claire had contacted her and informed her that she was back in New York.
I know it was wrong to contact Claire, but like I told you, it was killing me not knowing what she said to you. I wish to God that I had never contacted her. I didn't meet her on Wednesday. I told her that I never wanted to see or speak to her again.
Emma, sweetheart, I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose. You have to believe me. I've kept my distance this past week, to give you room to breathe and think. But I'm going crazy being apart. Please meet me tomorrow night at my place after you're done with work. I have a surprise for you. I'll be waiting for you. I love you.
Jackson
Tears rolled down my face onto the letter, making the ink blotchy on the spots where it had dropped. I so badly wanted to believe Jackson, to believe that he truly loved me and he was telling the truth. But I had been played the fool once before. Was I going to give him another chance to deceive me again?
The next day was torture as I wrestled with whether or not to go to Jackson's apartment after work. I wondered what his surprise was. When I left the office that evening, I hesitated when Craig opened the door to the SUV expectantly, waiting for me to climb in. I was longing to see Jackson, but it was warring with the feeling that I was willingly opening myself to more pain and heartbreak. My self-preservation won out, and Craig's face fell when I shook my head and walked past him to hail a cab. He still followed me home but I was too exhausted by my inner turmoil to care.