"Sometimes," Karen said slowly.
"It's because I reinvented myself when I moved to Larkspur Grove, The person you know isn't the person I am at all."
"I don't believe that, Jamie." It was Karen's turn to sound stern. "I don't care who or what you think you were, I know who you are."
Swallowing, Jamie shook her head. She'd known this was going to be hard. She'd had no idea how hard. She could only hope there'd come a point soon when the hurt just couldn't hurt any worse.
"You don't know me, Karen. You know the person I invented."
"So you're telling me you aren't honest?" Karen snorted. "That you aren't loyal and caring? 'Cause let me tell you now—you're wrong!" Karen pushed the afghan off her lap. "This morning is only one of a million examples I could give to show the type of person you are."
Somehow she had to shut Karen up. Jamie just couldn't take any more of her praise, certain as she was, that once Karen heard the truth, she'd take it all back.
She opened her mouth one more time. "I was a prostitute."
Karen shut up.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A full minute after Jamie's bald proclamation, Karen spoke.
"Excuse me?"
Head still bowed over her knees, Jamie said, "You heard right."
"But what—I don't believe you!"
Jamie turned her head just enough to meet Karen's shocked gaze. "Shall I tell you about some of my clients? What we did together? How much they paid to have sex with me?" With no idea what was driving her, Jamie was purposely crude. Almost as though she wanted Karen to hate her—in spite of the knowledge that the other woman would never hate her as much as she hated herself.
But as she dared to look into her friend's eyes, Jamie's wall of ice broke. Karen didn't seem disgusted or even angry at Jamie's deception, as Jamie had expected. Her eyes glowed with compassion. With love.
"Why?" Karen asked, her voice soft, without condemnation.
Jamie's tears fell slowly at first, one by one, sliding down her cheeks, until she was huddled over her knees, sobbing like she hadn't sobbed at any other
TARA TAYLOR QUINN
time in her life. She cried for all she wanted to be— and wasn't. For things that could never be changed, for innocence forever lost.
Karen's arms stole slowly around her, pulling Jamie back to rest her head against Karen's shoulder.
"It's okay, love. Go ahead. Cry it all out."
The anguish poured out of Jamie, completely out of control. She tried to breathe and sobbed, instead. There was too much hurt to store up any more. And even with the tears, it didn't go away.
Karen's gentle fingers brushed the hair back from her face, tending to her as though it were Kayla or Ashley she cradled.
"I'm sorry," Jamie said when she could gulp in enough air to get the words out.
"Who told me this morning that friends don't have to apologize?"
It wasn't exactly what Jamie had said, and certainly not with such a connotation. She didn't know what to do next, where to go. Who she was anymore.
"You never answered my question," Karen said as Jamie's sobs finally quieted.
Sitting upright, Jamie looked at her, too drained to do more than ask silently for clarification.
"Why?"