I clasped her face with my hands and brushed my mouth over hers. "Your boyfriend is very glad to hear that," I said.
Jolene blushed prettily. "I'm sorry, I know we never talked about that, but it just came out—"
I kissed her hard to silence her. "You and your boyfriend can talk about that later," I said with a wink. "Let me just say now that I think the conversation is going to end with a replay of what was happening before Cowboy Badass and his right-hand man showed up."
Jolene laughed and put her forehead against my chest. I took the opportunity to stroke her long hair. "Joli, I think Jackson is just now realizing what he's put you through all these years. I honestly don't believe he had any idea what his distance was doing to you. He doesn't strike me as that type of guy."
Jolene lifted her head. "What do you mean?"
"You said it seemed like he was suffocating in the relationship. What if that had nothing to do with you? What if it had to do with him?"
"I don't understand," she admitted, her face pulled into a mask of confusion.
I sighed because I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing, but I didn't see an alternative. "When I looked at Jackson, I saw a man in love," I said.
"No, Zander, he's not in love with me."
"I know that. But he is in love with someone who was in this room."
"I don't—" was all she got out before she snapped her mouth shut. She looked back at the doorway. "No," she whispered. "No… No, I've known Jackson since we were kids. I would've known something like that. He would've told me. We were best friends. He—he wouldn't have done that to me. He begged me to marry him. He said he wanted to have children with me. He's not—he's not…"
"Gay," I supplied for her. She didn't know it, but this was a defining moment for our relationship, and I was terrified that it wouldn't end the way I wanted.
"His father was a minister. This town loved him just like they love Jackson…" she murmured. "Jackson can't like—" Her words dropped off suddenly and I felt her sway against me.
I led her to one of the kitchen chairs and sat her down, then crouched in front of her and took her hands.
"Oh God, he can't like men or he'll… he'll lose everything. The people in this town, they'll turn their backs on him. He could lose his job." She covered her mouth with her hand for a moment and then whispered, "They might hurt him if they find out."
I knew she wasn't talking about any one person specifically. It didn't surprise me in the least that a town like Eden was behind the times. I, more than anyone, understood that. I'd seen bigotry and hatred at its finest, and while it might not have been directed at me specifically, I'd still suffered.
"What do I do, Zander? How do I help him?"
I lost the last pieces of my heart to Jolene in that moment. I knew that what Jackson had done to her bordered on unforgivable, and she had every right to hate him. And there would undoubtedly be times that her anger was front and center. But the crux of it was that she cared about her ex and not just because he was the father of her child.
"Just be there for him," I said. "I know that sounds simple, and like it's not enough, but it is. Take all the time that you need to process what he did to you, but then ask yourself what it's felt like these past few weeks where you got to be yourself. If and when you're ready to show the world who you really are, you have that right to do so. Jackson and people like him don't have that luxury yet. You'll always be seen as Jolene, whether you’re the good girl or the free spirit or whatever it is you choose to be. But you're still Jolene. The second Jackson comes out, he won't be Jackson anymore. He'll be the gay guy. He'll be the fag, the queer, the pervert, the deviant. He won't just be judged for who he is, he'll be condemned for it."
"No," Jolene said brokenly. "No, he doesn't deserve that. No one deserves that."
"No, honey, they don't."
She fell silent for a moment and then lifted her eyes to meet mine. "You really think he's in love with Travis?"
"I do," I said.
"How do you know?"
"Because Jackson looks at Travis the way my aunt looks at her wife. The way she still looks at her even after thirty years together. It's the same way I look at you."
She let out a little gasp, but I wasn't sure which part of my statement she was reacting to. "Can you—can you repeat that, please?"