All's Fair in Love and Las Vegas

Chapter Eighty-Four

        As I looked down at him, standing on a dock in the ocean, I'd never felt so helpless. So alone. I couldn't tell what I was feeling. Yes, there was sadness, but so many other things all I once. My head was racing, skimming through a thousands thoughts, but one I knew to be true. The one that knew I couldn't say yes.

        "Grayson," I said softly, pulling him to his feet. "Grayson, we can't."

        "Why not?" he asked, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

        I couldn't even meet his gaze, instead staring at the rose petals beneath us. "It would never be real. This whole thing, our whole entire story is based off of one night where we weren't ourselves. Otherwise, we would've never even met. I could never live with myself. Our entire relationship is a lie."

        "After everything we've been through, we're closer than anyone, Jackie," he said.

        "But it's all based on something fake," I protested. "I would constantly wonder what else in our relationship is fake. I would look back and wonder what was real and what wasn't. I'm already doing that! To live with it forever? It's not that I don't trust you–I do. More than I should, honestly. But I think I would go crazy trying to put together the pieces that actually fit instead of the ones that we just crammed into place."

        Grayson was quiet for a long time before saying, "So you don't feel the same way."

        My heart cracked a little. "I–I don't know how I feel," I stammered. "I don't. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I know it'll never work."

        He hung his head, although he didn't seem disappointed in me. Not angry that I'd said no. But I wasn't done. I still had thousands of questions, most of them probably without answers.

        "Why didn't you tell me?"

        "I didn't want to make it uncomfortable," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I knew that you would stay no matter what, that you'd want to keep your end of the bargain. You'd stay even if I wrecked things and you didn't feel the same way."

        "But it's me, Grayson. I thought we were closer than that," I said, hurt. All this time, he'd played along with the story, except for him it hadn't been a game. It'd been real, and I'd just blindly followed.

        "We are," he said firmly. "But I couldn't do that to you."

        Frustration roared in my ears. "You're doing it to me now!" I said angrily. "What, so you can make it all romantic in paradise with flowers and a ring? Things are still wrecked! You hid this from me for so long and the whole time I looked like an idiot!"

        "You didn't look an idiot," he was quick to say, but I shook my head.

        "This whole time, every moment we've shared, you've experienced it for real," I said flatly. "And I've just been disregarding it. Thinking that we're just friends when you clearly think we're not."

        Grayson nodded, murmuring, "I can understand that."

        "Good." I didn't know what else to say. So I started walking back, across the dock and all the way back to the villa.

        When Grayson came inside, he found me packing up my duffel bag. When I walked into the living room, he asked, "Are you leaving?"

        "No," I grunted. I'd said I'd go through with the divorce. "Just...moving my sleeping situation."

        "Jackie, no, that's stupid," he said. "I'll sleep out here."

        "Why? So you can be perfect and nice and I'll just fall in love with you?" I asked sarcastically.

        His tone took on a slight edge when he said, "That's not why I'm nice to you."

        "Then why are you?" I snapped. That was about the only reason I could see for him being nice to me so often.

        "Because you're my friend!" Grayson said.

        "Oh, of course, just the friend you're oh so in love with," I said, rolling my eyes as I tossed my pillow on the curved couch.

        "What's that supposed to mean?"

        "It means I don't think we're really friends," I said bitterly. "This whole time you've used our friendship as an excuse to be close to me."

        "That is not true," he shot back, but I shook my head. 

        "You loved me, so you tried to make it as close to real as possible. Then before that, we had nothing more than attraction," I said, busying myself with setting up the blankets and pillows so I wouldn't have to look at him. "You can keep lying to yourself, Grayson, but I'm done. We aren't friends–we never were."

        The silence was so loud it hurt. After a long time he said quietly, "At least take the bed."

        "No, thank you," I said coolly.

        "Jackie, you have a long day of flying tomorrow," he cut in.

        Unfortunately he was right. What made it more unfortunate was that I wouldn't be taking the bed. "I'll be just fine out here."

        "Jacks–"

        "Stop!" I screamed, my voice taking on a higher pitch than intended. "Stop trying to make it nice and okay and sweet and pretending like we care about each other! Friends or otherwise! I just want you to go away and stop acting like you love me for real because you can't."

        My body was frozen, trying not to show just how upset I was. Holding back tears, I waited for some response, but none came. Turning, I found the room empty, the curtains to the bedroom still fluttering in Grayson's wake. 

        Stiffly, I turned off the electric firepit in the center of the room and laid down. The curve of the couch did not make for a comfortable bed, but it was all I had. I crawled under the few blankets I'd managed to dig up and dropped my head onto my pillow. I felt the hot tears rolling down my face, but I ignored them, letting them soak into my pillowcase.

        With the ocean whispering in my ear and the stars above me, I cried myself to sleep.