The next morning
The sanctuary's walls reached high into a vaulted ceiling, and Madeline stared at it, seemingly studying the architecture but actually trying to keep the tears contained in her eyes.
The waterworks had flowed freely, from last night when she came home and sat on the floor of her shower in a numbed state to the time she lay in bed, still in her bathrobe and dripping hair. Natalie finally said she'd catch a cold and forced her into pajamas. She scrubbed Madeline's hair with a towel as her roommate spoke through heaves and hiccups. Caught in a betrayal before she could explain, she was wracked with sorrow.
Now, as worshippers stood in prayer, Madeline bent her head and cried out silently for resolution and comfort. When she raised her head and sat down, she glanced behind her and saw what she'd been hoping for.
Emma sat in the pew behind her, looking up once to make eye contact. Madeline turned around and anxiously waited for the sermon to end.
When it was over and the churchgoers filed out, the two women sat where they were in silence, each at her own bench. Finally Madeline turned to her and spoke.
"I'm glad you came," she said in a low voice. "I was almost sure you weren't going to."
"I thought about it after I got your call," Emma replied softly. "I felt some duty to Justin, I guess, but ... I also had to go to church, so ..."
Madeline smiled slightly at her remark. "Where's J.C.?" she asked.
"He's attending somewhere else today. We thought it'd be best," Emma said.
"Is he mad?"
Emma shrugged. "Lance did a pretty good job defending you," she answered. "He took Joey, Chris and J.C. into a room and when they came out, they weren't nearly as ticked off as when they walked in. Pretty calm, actually. And I talked to J.C. as well. Finally J.C. followed Justin out last night and made sure he didn't go crazy."
"So does that mean you forgive me?" Madeline asked.
Emma sighed. "I'm as fierce as a pit bull when it comes to protecting Justin," she said. "And you hurt him pretty badly. But it's between you and him. As far as me and J.C. goes, since you're not going to print the part about us, I guess there's nothing left to be mad about. But we'll breathe the sigh of relief once we see it in the paper. It's basically your word we're going on."
"I thought about not writing it at all," Madeline said miserably.
Emma shook her head. "That won't do you a lot of good. It's not going to win him back, Madeline. I can tell you that right now. Plus you'd tick off a whole new group of people – you don't need that."
She knew all this. Madeline nodded numbly. "Before the kiss happened I thought I figured out a way to write this in a version I – and everyone else – can live with. But I'd need your help, Emma. You have every right to say no."
"I know," Emma said after a pause. "We can go to your dorm and work on it."
Madeline smiled gratefully at her friend and hugged her. "I'm so glad I didn't lose you or Lance," she said. She looked at the older girl and asked gently, "How are things with you and J.C.?"
Emma lowered her eyes a little. "About the same," she answered.
"You still haven't told him, have you?"
"I just feel like it's pointless," Emma sighed. "I don't want to burden him with my woes."
Madeline looked at her as they rose to leave. "I shouldn't be the one to talk, but he's probably going nuts that you're shutting him out and not being truthful. It shouldn't be something you go through alone, Emma."
Emma nodded. "I've never been in a relationship like this before," she said. "I'm just not used to the idea of sharing everything with someone, you know?"
"Well," Madeline said thoughtfully, "I've never been in that type of relationship either, but it seems to me that if it's gonna work, you shouldn't be polite. Stuff should be said for honesty's sake, no matter what comes." The irony crossed her face in a melancholy smile. "You really ought to think about it."
* * * * * * * The next day * * * * * * * * *
The feature story that ran in the paper Monday was a bright – a humorous fluff piece – about one college student's 15 minutes of fame as the star of a music video featuring pop's hottest band. It focused on her role and how she endured 45 minutes of measurements just to wear one winter coat, including some funny anecdotes about the antics of group members on the set.
There was no mention of Emma, the midnight jaunt to the airport or even Justin's hairdressing skills.
"Interesting twist of angle," Nathan observed half-approvingly the night before, as the production crew pasted the story on the page. "Not what you started out with, but a good save nonetheless. I guess it's much better than putting a big X on the page."
Madeline was too drained to respond. She and Emma had spent all day on the story to meet her 6 p.m. deadline. Emma had helped so much Madeline felt guilty running a solo byline, but there was no other option.
She knew some readers, especially older fans who secretly liked the group, would not be satisfied, clamoring for more about them and less about her. But for a college population, it was as good as she could give them.
They had no choice. At the end of the day, she'd still lost what mattered. This was all she was willing to say.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I don't know what to say," J.C. said finally, sitting in a hotel room across from Emma, the remains of dinner between them.
"I didn't want you to say anything. I didn't even want you to know about it," Emma confessed, picking at the chicken bones on her plate.
"Why not? Why didn't you tell me how much it upset you?"
"Because the way I'm dealing with it is my problem. What could you have done about it? Nothing. We're already hiding as much as we can. I didn't want to make you worried all the time. But eventually I didn't feel good keeping it from you either. Madeline finally talked some sense into me."
At the mention of her name, J.C. winced slightly, thinking of Justin. He reached across the table and took her hand. "Are you ... happy? Being with me, I mean. All that stuff you gave up. Do you miss it – honestly?"
She looked at the one she loved and sighed, turning her eyes downward.
"Yeah, I miss it," Emma admitted, feeling some release with her words. "I miss the city and hanging out with my friends and my church. I guess I see my family more than I used to since I travel, which is good. But mostly I just miss stability."
A guilty wave washed over J.C. The last two months had been glorious for him; she was with him at nearly every appearance, and it injected an extra shot of adrenaline into him when he sang. He loved that she was there before performances for a massage and kiss and afterward for a warm hug. He looked forward to the upcoming U.S. tour, where he could show her all the sights.
But best of all were the "cuddle times" they set aside at the end of each day, no matter how busy it got or how late it was. Emma shared about the stories she wrote and the people she met. J.C. would simply gaze at her with a smile and stroke her hair as he listened. Finally, when the hour struck late enough, they'd pray, kiss goodnight and part ways to dream blissfully.
He'd asked frequently about Emma's happiness since the relationship began – after all, she was the one who'd left her surroundings to be with him – and she'd always smiled and said yes. But J.C.'s tiredness from his daily routine sometimes claimed his insight, and he'd merely accepted her words as truth.
Now, sitting wide awake in front of her, he saw that they were being truly frank. He was suddenly afraid of what he'd hear.
Emma saw J.C.'s expression change and covered their linked hands with her other one.
"Hey," she said gently. "I knew going into this that I'd have to be patient, and I didn't want you to think I couldn't handle it. But no one's forcing me to be here. This is what I chose. I want to be here, J.C. It doesn't mean everything's hunky-dorry all the time, but the alternative – not being with you – is a thousand times worse."
His eyes lifted to meet hers, then cast downward again, unconvinced.
Emma stood up and came around the table to settle herself on J.C.'s lap. She linked an arm around his shoulder and let her fingers brush his neck, giving him goose bumps.
"You can worry about me, I guess," she said. "But don't worry about us. I'm serious. Know that I love you. I know I don't say it all the time like you do; I'm just not as verbally expressive. But hopefully I show it. Understood?"
He took her other hand in his and gave her a small smile. "You're not leaving me, then?"
"For now, no." She smiled back.
"Understood."
"OK, then," she said, closing the subject.
"We're not done," he told her.
"We're not?"
"Nope," he said, staring into her curious brown eyes. "I'm glad we got all that in the clear, but there's still something I have to ask you. Tell you, actually."
She looked at him and waited.
"I didn't fall in love with you because I thought you could handle the burden of being my girlfriend or that you were up to the challenge," J.C. said, holding her hand a little tighter. "I just fell in love with you. So don't think there's some perfect standard you have to measure up to in order for this to work. I'd actually be worried if none of this ever bothered you."
She nodded in understanding, eyes shining.
"And I'm not trying to be the overbearing boyfriend or anything, but ... you do not – and I mean not – go through this without me again," he said in a firm but tender voice. "Or anything else, for that matter. You're not supposed to. Even if you think it'll upset me. This is not your problem, don't you know? You go through it, we go through it. It kills me not to know why your face clouds over sometimes, Emma. So no more secrets. Understood?"
She gave him the loving smile that tickled his senses. "I'm sorry," she said simply.
He shook his head and put an arm around her waist. "I wish I could make it easier somehow," he said. "I feel some sort of duty since my career's the reason we're in this boat."
"Your career is the reason we met," Emma chided gently, looking at their tangled fingers. "And you know I won't hear anything about you trashing it. I'm just holding you to your promise that we'll be done with this nomadic life before I start getting gray."
"Way sooner than that, I swear," J.C. said, kissing her hand. "You still have my promise ring?"
She pulled her necklace out of her collar. He studied the small band dangling on the chain.
"We're only at the starting gun of this relationship, Mama," he said, leaning in and dropping a kiss on the side of her jaw. "You sure you're game?"
She nuzzled his cheek with a luminescent smile and said happily, "I love you," into his neck.
"Good enough," he joked before tilting his head and claiming her lips.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Justin didn't want to read it. But something in him had to.
He opened the small tabloid-size page and flipped to the features section. There, splayed across the page, was a picture of the group, Jeffrey directing, that someone, presumably Madeline, had snapped. And there was her name.
He read the story three times, trying to find some semblance of libel or slander, something he could criticize. But he could not. The story was clean, saying nothing the public didn't already know, and was missing any evidence Madeline had had more than a passing acquaintance with the group. It was light and well-written, carefully focusing on Madeline's thrill – he knew it was embellished a bit – at enjoying a brief stint at fame.
She'd left messages on his phone, all of which were unreturned.
"Hey." J.C. entered the hotel suite, dragging his suitcase behind him. Chris followed with a duffel bag. "Seems like we've been here forever, don' t you think?"
"Forever," Justin mumbled back, folding up the paper.
Chris sighed and slumped into a chair across from him. His eyes widened at the sight of the paper. "So that's it, huh?"
"Yeah."
"I read it," Chris said, watching Justin closely. "It's harmless. After all that ..."
"Chris, you're not actually going to defend her, are you?" Justin broke in.
Chris put his bag down. "I'm not," he said. "She did make some bad decisions. But when you break it down, she didn't lure you for a story. It takes two to tango, Justin. You kissed her. I don't know; maybe you should hear her out. It might bring you some closure."
"I don't need any closure," Justin muttered, resting his head on his fists. "I'm closed."
J.C., standing behind Chris' chair, gave a faint snort. "Sure you are."
Justin rose, teeth clenched. "Boy, I am really feeling the love in this room. Excuse me."
J.C. stepped in front of him. "I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly. "Sit. Please."
The two friends looked at each other steadily. Slowly Justin sat back down, J.C. next to him.
"If you're already over this, why are you still upset?" J.C. asked.
"Because I feel like a shmuck for pouring out everything to her. I was rambling on about how I felt."
"And then what? You knew we were taking off tonight. Where did that leave you?"
"Are you saying it's my fault for being so open?"
"No, that's not what he's saying," Chris interrupted. "He's asking about your intentions, Justin. What exactly did you want from her? From this?"
"I wanted ..." Justin pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, relieving some tension. He finally turned and looked at J.C. "I wanted what you have."
Surprise registered on J.C.'s face.
"It took you two years to get together with Emma," Justin continued, sounding wistful. "We watched you deny your feelings over and over. And now you finally have her, and you're happy as clams. Well, after one week, I already knew how I felt, no denials. So I went for it." He groaned inwardly. "I guess I probably should have stopped and thought first."
J.C. sighed. "There often isn't a lot of thinking when it comes to this," he said. He eyed the curly-haired, sullen figure. "Were you falling in love with her, Justin?"
Justin looked from J.C. to Chris. "I guess I'll never know."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The luggage was stacked in the living room, and bellhops were bringing around carts to load them into. Emma walked over and coaxed Justin to his feet.
"Come on, little man," she said gently. "We're taking a walk."
"We're leaving soon, Mama," he protested.
"Not for a while, and they wouldn't leave without us," she said. "Come on."
They strolled down the hall into the elevator and then out into the brisk cold.
"I'll be glad when we're back in a warm place," Emma commented, shivering. Justin put an arm around her. "One week here in Chicago is colder than two weeks in New York."
"How are things with J.C. now? He mentioned you guys had a landmark dinner tonight."
"Wonderful. I'm glad it happened," Emma said, beaming. "It'll still be hard, but it's easier when there's two of you to handle the load."
Justin smiled faintly.
"You look terrible," Emma observed as they walked.
"Thanks."
"You look almost as bad as Madeline."
He inhaled sharply at the mention of her name. No one had dared speak it the last two days, always silenced with a glare from him.
"You ... you saw her?"
Emma nodded. "Justin, she's a wreck."
He shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, we are," Emma said firmly, looking up at him. "I'm not taking sides against you, but I think you have a right to know what happened."
As much as he hated to admit it, it piqued his interest. He was silent. Emma took this as a good sign and gave the same explanation Madeline had given Lance, adding some defensive sentences of her own. Justin seemed to listen carefully.
Emma tucked her arm into his when she finished. "Why'd you pursue her, Justin? She wasn't charmed by you right off the bat, therefore you had to win her?"
Justin shook his head. "Initially I just wanted to win her over. Then I just wanted to win her. She seemed so real and funny and smart and unfazed by everything – and you know how hard that is to find. I don't know. I wasn't thinking ahead."
"You still want to be with her, don't you?" she asked. "You're meant to."
"I can't be with someone I don't trust," he answered. "You're forgetting that everything I've known of her was based on a lie. You said yourself that trust was the most important thing. There were so many times she could have stopped what was going on and just said it."
"She could have. That was her mistake, I agree. But are you willing to punish both of you for it?"
Justin thought about this.
"Justin," Emma said, facing her young friend, "You're a passionate guy. Everything you do is 150 percent. In this case, you fell hard for her, and she fell hard for you. You're both hurt, and you're feeling betrayed and humiliated. I understand that. But if you don't want to lose her, you have to find grace in your heart and extend that to her."
Justin let her words sink in. It sounded so simple. Forgive her and move on. Sure.
But it wasn't simple.
They were back at the hotel now. Justin looked down at Emma and gave her a warm hug.
"I don't know if I can," he said into her hair, in a voice more sad than bitter. "To tell you the truth, there's just too much jumbled up in me right now."
"I agree that trust is the most important. But relationships are imperfect, Justin," Emma implored. "And for them to work, they have to include forgiveness too. You have to start somewhere."
Justin shook his head. "Emma, I don't know if I have that grace in me to give."
Emma hugged him again tightly and turned her face up to him. She searched his pained expression and sighed before letting go and heading toward the hotel entrance. He ambled behind her. She stopped and turned around briefly.
"You're just gonna have to find it, then," she said, before walking inside.
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