Dead Ends // Hugh Jackman

Chapter 23

Jerry is the one who ends up taking me to the airport. After my last conversation with Hugh, he's back to avoiding me, which is fine. It makes leaving a bit easier. Somewhat. Maybe.

I mean there's no need to stay in touch and miss each other. Because we're not together. We never were.

We could be, but we're not, and that makes my heart ache, but I have no right to feel that way. This is all my doing. I just couldn't stay ignorant to all the possible red flags.

Okay, so I lied. It doesn't make leaving any easier at all. I tried to prevent myself from getting hurt and ended up in that predicament anyway.

If anything, all of this makes it even more difficult to get on the plane and fly away. Because Hugh and I aren't parting amicably. I messed up whatever we had. I'm not sure it qualifies as a breakup, but it sure feels like one.

I don't cry though. Not in front of Jerry. I'm not sure he would tell Hugh if I did, but just in case, I keep it all bottled in until I'm on the plane. It's a lot similar to the one him and I took except I'm sitting a row behind where we'd possibly been.

Still, the knowledge doesn't stop me from welling up with sadness, and the fact I'm sitting all alone makes the first teardrop of many roll down my cheeks.

I have no one to blame for this but myself. I took a good thing and twisted it into something bad. I wouldn't be surprised if Hugh called up that literary agent and told her to somehow get out of our agreement because of what I did, but I know that's not who he is despite how terrible of a person I am.

Because what kind of person would do what I did?

I keep telling myself this is for the best. That I'm saving us both from full-on heartbreak in the long run as that's what this would've eventually led up to anyway.

But, I'm not a fortunate teller. I can't see the future. I said all those things based on an assumption that things wouldn't work out between us, and we'd endure a pain I've grown all too familiar with over the years.

Except, how the hell would I know that any of that could possibly be true? Because I don't. I wouldn't know until I lived and experienced it in real time. We'll both never know who would've been right.

I keep replaying Hugh's and I's last conversation before I left. His response to my argument is still fresh in my mind.

"A dirty little secret?" He mulled over the words. His hand was so quick to slip out of mine, retracting his entire body to the other side of the couch we had been sharing.

"A dirty little secret..."

As if him saying it again would change the meaning. It didn't. There's only so many ways you can interpret that, and all of them pretty much led to the same thing.

"I asked you not to tell anyone because I didn't know if I could trust you or not," he continued, refusing to look at me. Not that I could blame him. I wouldn't want to either.

"I guess I was wrong. You're just another NDA kind of woman."

NDA? Was he...

He's talking about signing a non-disclosure agreement.

And, another? What did that mean? How many women has signed an NDA with him?

Then it makes sense why he would say 'dirty little secret' twice, because he's probably had many of those, didn't he? At least, that's what he's made it sound like.

I can't believe he would think this way about me. Yeah, I said some words, but I didn't insinuate that he was someone vastly different than what I knew him to be.