Page 120 of The Good Girl Effect

Love has removed all the options and has given us only consequences.

She wipes at her face, sniffling to keep from crying more.

“Camille,” Bea calls from the other side of the door.

Neither of us move.

Then Camille quietly says, “If I’m fired, I’ll tell her. I’ll say goodbye and pack my things.”

Her voice shakes on every word, as if the idea of letting that little girl go would be her reckoning. I’d be a monster to do that to either of them.

“No,” I grunt in surrender. “You’re not fired.”

She drags in a grateful breath and wipes her eyes. Then she turns her back on me and rushes toward the door. Opening it up, she fakes a smile and takes my daughter’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Bea asks.

“Nothing is wrong,” Camille lies. “Do you want to go to the park today?”

“Okay,” Bea replies hesitantly.

The two of them disappear into Bea’s room, and I drop onto Camille’s bed. Burying my hands in my hair, I try to make sense of what just happened and how all my dreams for the future just fell to pieces.

Rule #41: Wine always pairs well with secrets.

Camille

Jack is a ghost again. When he comes home from work, usually very, very late, he goes straight to his room upstairs, and he locks himself away most hours of the day.

There are no more shared dinners. No trips to Disneyland or walks in the parks nearby.

There is no more sex and no more bondage.

It might as well be the first day I started.

The moment I walked into my room that morning and found him holding that letter, I knew it was over. It was never about me lying or keeping something from Jack. It was about him still holding on to the past and never giving himself enough room to grieve.

In Jack’s mind, Emmaline is still here, and he’s being unfaithful to her. In his mind, he’s a terrible man, a terrible father, and a terrible husband.

He refuses to let her go, to the point where he finds himself comparing her with me. His love for her and his love for me. Her place in Bea’s life and mine.

I wanted to be touched when he admitted that he loved me more, but I wasn’t. I was heartbroken because it meant that Jack was still holding on to the past. And I don’t belong in the past. Not when I want his future.

I’m just relieved he allowed me to stay for Bea. I’m still shattered that he and I no longer have a life together, but at least for the time being, I can have my time with his daughter.

I don’t know how long it will last or what will become of us, but I’m taking it day by day. Bea is my first priority, now and always.

Bundling my coat around me, I walk against the harsh wind after dropping Bea off at school. It’s nearing winter, and the city has grown brisk in the mornings. Still, I’d rather busy myself with errands and tasks while I’m out than go back to the apartment when I know Jack could be there.

I can’t face him. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to again.

It’s sad, really, having felt a love so real and then having to live with it just out of reach. Eventually, I assume I’ll be able to see his face again without needing to leave the room and sob quietly into a towel or the sleeve of my shirt. Eventually, I hope the sound of his voice no longer pierces my heart like a knife.

And I refuse to hope that we will just get over this and find our way back to each other. Jack has serious work to do on himself before I’d let that happen. I refuse to live in his dead wife’s shadow, even if he says his love for me is stronger.

There never should have been a comparison in the first place.

But I know in my heart that Jack won’t heal the way he should because that would require him to face his pain and actually feel it rather than just run from it. Ironically, the man would rather lose thetwoloves of his life than work on healing and talk about his emotions.