"Yes. I'd do anything to reassure you. I'm serious. One word from you is all I need."
I suck in my breath, suddenly painfully aware of his hands on mine. They're warm and soft, and trembling slightly. Here it is, my one chance to get rid of the lark. I gaze into his dark blue eyes, and there is no flicker of hesitation in them. If I ask him, I think he really will do it. But if I ask him, I'll transform myself into the kind of selfish person I never want to be. Not only selfish, but also weak.
"I can't ask you to do this. I… I know she's part of your company. It would cause a lot of trouble for you to exclude her from your life."
"Then you will have to learn to trust me and be patient
with me."
"Patience isn't my strongest suit," I say. "And it's not just Natalie I'm worried about. Your whole lifestyle… being with another woman every other day or week or whatever… this is what you do, what you're used to. This is what you like. You wouldn't do it if you didn't like it."
James pulls his hands away from mine, leaving the skin on the back of my hands prickling with a sense of cold and loss. He rests the fingertips of both his hands together, forming a triangle between them and his lips.
"I used to be a better person, Serena," he says in a low voice. "A very long time ago."
"When you were with Lara?"
He jerks his head back, the tiny muscles around his eyes tightening. "In the very beginning of our relationship, yes. But then I don't know what the fuck happened, and I began to transform into this monster that made her life a living hell. After she . . ." He inhales deeply, his gaze darting away from me. "After she passed away I worked my demons out with parties, booze. And women. Many women. It was refreshing not to have to think about feelings at all. It gave me a sense of freedom, a space where I could exist without my guilt. They were my entertainment, and, as far as I am concerned, I was the same to them. You're right, I got used to that life. So much that even after I decided to change from a good-for-nothing party boy to a decent man who worked his ass off, I still kept my habit of messing around with women. I never once attempted to have anything more with any of them. This is what I thought I deserved. This is all I had to offer until now. But I can offer more, I know that." His voice is nothing more than a whisper now.
His eyes search me, and I think he's expecting me to say something, but there's a lump in my chest, heavy and biting—a warning that I should keep my words to myself. My head is so fuzzy from the champagne that I'm not sure the words would come out right anyway. James stretches his hands toward mine but I pull them back quickly, resting my balled palms below my chin. He grabs his glass instead, clutching it so forceful I'm afraid he might break it.
"I can offer happiness, too, not just suffering, Serena," he says with urgency. "I made you suffer, you think I don't know that?"
I don't think he truly knows how much he hurt me. I'm not sure I want him to know how many tears and sobs have plagued me since I've met him, and the creases they've carved all over my heart. So I grit my teeth and look away. There are kinds of pain that are better left unshared.
"But that's not all there is to me, I swear. I used to be a better person. I want to change. I want to be that person again."
"You won't ever be that person again, James. You can be whoever you want, but not your past self. No one can do that. Everyone changes for a reason. Whether we change for better or for worse, it's a choice we make." I swallow, biting my lip hard. To my astonishment, I don't feel any kind of discomfort in my lip. Too much alcohol, for sure. "But you can't go back to being the way you used to be, no matter how much you want to. That person is lost forever."
His features tighten. "So you don't think I can change?" He fixes the bottom of his glass with his gaze. "You don't think I deserve to be happy, do you?" His voice drips with grief and it tears me apart to know that I have caused it. The way his head is slightly tilted forward... it’s almost as if he's awaiting my words like a verdict.
"James, that's not what I meant to say. Of course you deserve to be happy. You're sweet and kind and wonderful… what I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't strive to become someone you were years ago. If you want to change, strive to be the best possible version of yourself now."
He twists his glass between his hands, still staring at the last few drops of champagne on the bottom of it. Under the table, I can feel him jiggling his foot. "You said everyone changes for a reason, right? Well, you are my reason. I have—"
"Why me?" I ask. I cannot help it. I recall Jess telling me James wants to change for me, and how convinced she seemed of it. The next words sail past my lips almost without my permission. "Why not Natalie? You've known her for so long…"
James snaps his head up. "I've known her for so long that I'm certain I'd never be the kind of person I hope to be next to her. I won't lie—it crossed my mind a few times over the years. I thought, since she'd seen me at my worst and for some reason still stuck around, why not try more? But Natalie and I would never work out. She knows that, too. She has a tendency to… not let me forget the past." His neck stiffens. "I don't think she does it on purpose. We just seem to bring out the worst in each other. There hasn't been anything romantic between us in years."
"That's not true," I say, remembering what the lark was saying to the other girls just before we entered the ballroom. "You made out with her not long before the party at your parents’ house."
A laugh bubbles out of him as he leans back in his chair. "You little stalker."
"She was bragging about it in front me and a few other girls," I say defensively.
"Yeah, that sounds like something Natalie would do." He frowns. "It wasn't really a kiss, more like an accident."
"How was kissing someone an accident?"
"If you must know, she was the one who kissed me." He gazes at me intently, both his palms resting on the edge of the table. "Do you really want to talk about Natalie? You asked me something else. I'd much rather answer that than continue to talk about her. You asked why I want to change for you."
I rub the back of my neck, my pulse quickening by the second. I wonder if there is any way I can take my question back, make him forget about it. I should have never asked him this. Because… why would he choose me? I'm just as broken as he is and have no extraordinary qualities to my name to make up for it. Surely, if he thinks long enough about it, he will realize that I'm not worth chasing around and impressing with trips to chocolate factories and ridiculously expensive hotels, all in order to fulfill my childish fantasies.
I try to count the buttons on his shirt, to give my mind something to do so I don't completely freak out, but they swim in front of my eyes—an obvious sign that the effort is beyond the capabilities of my inebriated neurons. I half-expect him to get up and leave any minute now. The revelation just hasn't hit him yet. But he doesn't get up. Instead, he tilts in closer, an ear-to-ear smile sprawling across his face. There's no hint of irony or his usual conceitedness in it. I don't think I've ever seen him smile like this.
He lays his arms on the table, beckoning me to put my hands in his. Hesitantly, I do so. The moment I touch him, my skin tingles with warmth, and I can practically feel the energy behind his smile sizzling through me, delicious and brisk, filling me up until I cannot help but smile as well.
"You make me feel things that I haven't felt with anyone else. Things I didn't even know I could feel. Your kisses… you have no idea what your kisses have done to me, Serena. How they've healed me… I—I never feel as whole as when I make love to you." A dire emptiness surges inside me at his words, starting from the most intimate part of me, culminating in a shiver I don't succeed to disguise. James chuckles softly and my cheeks flare up. "A smile from you can make everything better. It's the first time I spend more time thinking of someone else than I do of myself. And it feels damn good. There's nothing I'd rather do in this life than make you happy. Your happiness is everything to me. The first time I saw you in that bar, you radiated innocence and sweetness. I think that's what drew me to you. You didn't seem to belong there at all. But then again, I'm not sure where you could truly belong. The real world doesn't seem a good enough place for you. You belong in a dream—a fantasy world. If you let me, Serena, I will build that world for you."