Page 112 of One Last Shot
I’m halfway down the twelve flights of stairs before it occurs to me that she might take the elevator down, beat me to the bottom, and disappear. And that’s exactly what she does.
CHAPTER28
PETRA
“You’re going to get through this,” Jackson assures me as she hands me a fresh cup of coffee.
When I dip my nostrils over it to inhale the scent, it feels like my nose hairs are singed off. “Holy shit.” I draw back. “What’s in this?”
“It’s Irish Coffee. Seemed like the right kind of drink for today.”
I glance out at the mist that hangs over the tree tops. We’ve taken the chairlift up to the top of Blackstone Mountain and are planning to hike down.
“You’re getting me day drunk? I don’t know if flying up here last night was the best or worst idea I’ve ever had.”
She holds her mug in two hands as she sits in the Adirondack chair on the deck outside the upper lodge. The view will be spectacular if the sun burns off this mist. “Tell me everything,” she says.
My flight out of New York last night was much like my last one—full of nonstop tears. But this time I wasn’t crying because of what I was leaving behind, I was crying through the frustration of having been taken advantage of and lied to once again. I was crying for the life I thought Aleksandr and I were going to have together, only to find that it was all built on lies.
I tell her his side of the story and end with, “Lying is a deal breaker for me.”
“Shit, Petra. I don’t know what to say. On the one hand, it’s horrible that he knew details about your mom and his father, and about your mom and brother’s death that he didn’t tell you. It’s horrible that he deserted you the way he did, especially knowing how you felt about him. But on the other hand, he made sure you got to go to the boarding school you wanted, for the ski training you needed. He made sure your life didn’t get signed away in a marriage you weren’t ready for. And he did it because he loved you and wanted what was best for you.”
I take a big gulp of the Irish Coffee, expecting the whiskey to burn but it’s tempered by the sugar and the whipped cream. It goes down far too easy. “You can’t possibly be taking his side here.”
“I’malwayson your side,” she assures me. “I just want to make sure you’re looking at this from all angles.”
“Are there really multiple angles here?” I glance down at my lap and am alarmed for a second to find myself in unfamiliar clothes. Everything I’m wearing is Jackson’s: her hiking boots, socks, leggings, and sweatshirt. Even the underwear and sports bra.
Because that’s what happens when you leave a party in a fancy dress and strappy heels and head to the airport, unsure of your destination. It might have made more sense to call Emily or Avery, but the thought of staying with someone who knew Aleksandr, who knew us together as a couple, had my stomach in too many knots. Instead, I called Jackson, who suggested I come up for a day or two.
I’m supposed to be back at the studio tomorrow. I still have to figure out what to do about that. And how to get all my stuff from Aleksandr’s back to LA. But these are future-Petra’s problems and more than I can handle right now.
“There are always multiple angles. Sometimes it’s just hard to see things from a different perspective when you’re standing at a fixed point. You and Aleksandr have a past together, like Nate and me. That’s part of what makes your current relationship so strong but it’s also something that can cause friction because when you’ve loved someone since you were a teenager there are bound to be dozens of mistakes and missteps—big and small—along the way.”
I take another gulp of coffee, draining it and setting it on the arm of the chair. “I’m going to need another one of these if you want me to start looking at this situation from Aleksandr’s perspective, my wise friend.”
Jackson whips her phone out of the pocket of her tunic-length, full-zip wool hoodie and taps her screen a few times. I take the moment to marvel at her in her element: dressed like she’s in an Athleta ad, building her dream ski resort one step at a time with the love of her life. I’m so happy for her I could burst. “Done,” she says triumphantly.
“Is Blackstone so fancy now that you can order food and drinks on an app and have it delivered on the deck?” I mean, I know she and Nate are working hard to make Blackstone a destination ski resort, but that feels next-level.
Her face lights up. “No, but that’s a brilliant idea. I’m going to talk to Nate about that possibility.”
“So ...” I lead, “what just happened then?”
“I texted Lori, a friend of mine who runs this lodge, and asked if she could have someone bring another drink out for each of us.”
“Must be nice,” I tease.
“This life does have its perks.” She gives me a small smile. “But you know it wasn’t all wonderful getting here. Nate and I struggled a lot to make things right, and I pushed him away because he’d hurt me so badly when we were younger. I wonder if maybe that’s what you’re doing with Aleksandr too.”
“Jackson, when I look back at all the pain in my life ... he’s responsible for a lot of it. And he lied about it all.”
Just then, a woman comes out of the lodge in a forest-green long sleeve polo with the Blackstone emblem embroidered on the chest. She’s holding two steaming to-go cups. Jackson thanks her and slips her a tip as she hands over our drinks.
“I fully understand that intent and impact are not the same thing,” Jackson says, her voice placating as she hands me a drink and nods her chin toward the trail we’ll take to hike down the mountain. I stand and follow her as she continues, “And I know how he’s made you feel, so I understand the impact. But don’t you think the intent matters too? He was trying to help you, all along he was shielding you from further pain and trying to make sure you got opportunities you badly wanted. Does that count for something?”
“He lied to me,” I say, hating how much I sound like a broken record player. I want her to be as angry at him as I am, and I hate that she doesn’t see this as something fatal to our relationship. “Even if I could get over that, how could I ever trust him again?”
