the blind side of love | chaennie

thirty-seven

The screen on Jennie's phone turned off after a few seconds and Roseanne finally tore her gaze away. Her mind shut down, and a broken record took over. "Oh my God," were the only words running through her mind. Her heart hammered in her chest as she took out her cell phone again. With shaking fingers she pressed the buttons. Calling Jane ... appeared on the screen. She didn't bother putting the phone to her ear. She simply watched Jennie's, thinking perhaps it had been a coincidence. Or a trick of the lights. Or proof that she needed to get glasses.

But then, there it was. A ringtone with a song she didn't recognize. Incoming call from Rosie. "Oh my God," and this she said aloud. She stood because sitting felt impossible.

Jennie was already walking back, and Roseanne looked up just in time to see the actress freeze mid-step. Comprehension dawned. For the longest time, neither said anything. The phone on the kitchen counter continued to ring.

Roseanne snapped her cell phone closed and silence fell over them. "I was just about to tell you," Jennie said softly.

Snippets from emails and phone conversations suddenly flashed through Roseanne's mind. All of that ... had been Jennie Kim? She sat back on the stool, because now standing felt impossible. There was no Jane. There had never been a Jane. It was this that shocked her. It was this that was unfathomable. And still she couldn't formulate any words.

Jennie took a tentative step forward. "Rosie ... I ..."

There was nothing after that and Roseanne forced herself to look up, to look at Jennie Kim and dare her to continue.

"I don't know where to begin," Jennie said. "I thought it would come to me once you were in front of me but ..."

The silence was unbearable, but Roseanne didn't know what to say. She barely knew what to feel.

"I never meant to lie to you," Jennie began suddenly. "I fell in love that day in Central Park when I saw your sketch on that table. I ... I've never felt like I had to have something quite so badly before. And I took it home and I had it framed and I would stare at it, and I know it may sound crazy but it made me feel ... I don't know. It made me feel ... better; less alone. And I thought you'd want to know that I loved it. Only, I couldn't tell you who I was because I didn't think you'd believe it. And because I have this thing about privacy, too. And really all I wanted was for you to know that it meant something to me, you having created that sketch. It affected me, somehow."

Roseanne only stared at the actress because she couldn't yet muster a reaction. The words weren't quite sinking in. All she could think about was how one moment she'd had a friend in California and now ... what? What was she left with?

"I know you must think I'm a horrible person," Jennie continued. "I hadn't expected that the emails would continue or that they would spiral into something so ..." She let the sentence hang, and picked up another. "I didn't want the fact that I'm Jennie Kim to taint the way you saw me."

Jennie looked so pained that Roseanne looked away for fear that she'd be tempted to comfort the actress. She suddenly felt too many things at once. She felt a rush of anger and sadness and a lingering sense of loss. Mostly she felt tired. The fall-asleep-and-wake-up-days-later kind of tired.

"Please say something."

The actress' voice was soft and pleading and Roseanne forced another glance at Jennie. "I think I should go," she said.

-

"Please don't." She sounded pathetic even to her own ears. She couldn't begin to imagine how she sounded to Roseanne. This wasn't at all how Jennie had envisioned things. Roseanne wasn't supposed to figure it out. Not today. Not moments before Jennie was about to tell her.