Page 53 of The Best Worst Mistake
“Right before he got worse,” she finishes for me, reluctantly. “Before they decided he wasn’t going to make it through the treatment.” She finally brings her eyes back up to search mine, as if looking for a place to anchor her thoughts, likely spinning out of control right now.
I nod, wishing with everything in me that this conversation never had to take place. That it really was Grant sitting here, making her smile right now instead of all this making her cry. Both of them deserve to be here instead of me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I don’t know what else to say.
“It’s notyouthat should be apologizing,” she says, weakly, pale. “I should have never . . . I’m so sorry I blamed you, I—”
I hold up a hand to stop her, not wanting her to have to go through what feels like an unnecessary apology. If I had truly been negligent enough to give a toxic building to Grant, I would have deserved every bit of the wrath she was ready to rain down upon me tonight. Hell, I probably would have been a hundred times harder on myself than she ever could have been if that report hadn’t been negative just now.
I wish I could shut out the truth about that time in my life. If my assistant had missed something in that report, I probably would have handed the building off to Grant anyway because I wouldn’t have been responsible enough to check it myself. It could have been that easy for me to neglect something deadly during that time of my life. She has every right to question the decisions I made.
I shake my head at her.
“It’s alright, Jules. You don’t have to explain it to me. I don’t blame you for thinking I could have done something so careless, considering how reckless I was back then.”
“I think I needed someone to blame. Like, if I could blame something for why it happened the way it did,” she starts, then stops, like she’s trying to shake off a mountain of frustration.
“You don’t have to justify it to me,” I tell her, but she goes on.
“Even when I was unleashing on you a minute ago, insisting that it was your fault, it only made me feel worse. And now, seeing that I was wrong? All that time and energy I spenthatingyou? Oh my God, how I’vehatedyou, Si.” Her voice cracks.
I give her half a smile. “I know. You aren’t exactly shy about it.”
She laughs as another tear escapes.
“How are you still sitting here?” Her face twists, like a leaf withering on its branch. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
I’m about to tell her nothing is wrong with her, but she starts laughing, quietly at first, then louder like she doesn’t know where to take all this pent-up emotion that’s suddenly spilling out of her.
“I wanted to push you out of that plane today without a chute,” she says, barely able to get the words out. She holds her stomach, laughing like all the aggression has drained out and it’s the only thing left to do.
I smile, remembering my recurring dream. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had,” I tell her, breaking into my own tortured grin, “at least if you’d been right about this.”
“But I wasn’t,” she adds, sobering up. “I was wrong about all of it, thank God. I have hated you so, so intensely. Wrongfully. When truthfully — and don’t give me shit for saying this Silas, or I swear I’ll never say anything nice to you ever again — but . . .” She pauses, looking slightly alarmed that she’s about to say something nice.
I sit a bit taller. “But what?”
“Silas, I am so, so sorry.”
“Forget it,” I tell her, meaning it. “I never want to revisit this conversation again.”
“Just like that?” she asks, looking bewildered.
“Just like that,” I confirm, nodding. “I don’t blame you for questioning it. I just wish you’d told me sooner.”
She studies my face and for the smallest moment it feels like I’m looking into the eyes of the old Jules. The one who doesn’t hate me after all.
“You know what?” she says, suddenly shifting gears. “Let’s get out of here.”
My shoulders fall. “Hereas in Switzerland?”
She stands up. “No, out of this room. We need some time out of this suite. Cleanse the energy. God, especially after that.”
Her laughter has tapered off, and even though she’s still swiping a few stray tears from the corners of her eyes, which are now as translucent and light as the turquoise lakes outside, she appears ready to roll out of this room. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t too.
“Now?”
“Yes, now. I need to get out of this stuffy cave, like an hour ago. We’re in Interlaken, for God’s sake, Si.” She smiles ruefully. “We need to go get a stiff drink and something other than a wedge salad.”
