"At first I kind of liked that the tables had turned. That I knew but you didn't. That I was smarter than you all, at least in that. Then as things, you know, progressed, I was waiting for you to tell me. My thinking was if you trusted me, then you would." He opens his mouth to protest, but I say, "And I know you said you would have told me if you could, but after everything with Justin, I just, not all of me believed you. Any way you look at it, you were still keeping a huge part of your life from me. Our…whatever the hell this is, couldn't have gotten far if we weren't letting each other in."
"Do you think I didn't consider that? Do you have any idea how much I've agonized over keeping my secret? I lost sleep over it. I fought for it. I approached them individually, together, a dozen times since the beginning. It killed me I couldn't tell you, but I had other people to consider."
"If you really wanted me to know, you would have told me," I say, voice hard.
"We have been acquainted for less than two months, Joanna. Only six people, yourself included, have ever been privy to that information. And I still wanted to tell you. I told you I wanted to. You said you understood the reasons. But it was all a test, wasn't it? You were testing me because you didn't trust me." He starts pacing back and forth on the other side of the table. "I swear to God I could kill Justin right now. I didn't do anything wrong, and I'm the one paying for his sins." He stops moving and looks me dead in the eyes. "I am not Justin, Joanna. Just because he lied to you does not mean I will as well. Just because he let you down and brought you abject misery does not mean I will. I am not responsible for his mistakes, and I resent you flogging me for them."
"That is not what I--"
"And for God's sake, admit the real reason you lied. Because this," he says, gesturing to us both, "frightens you almost to the point of madness. I know it does me. If you had told me, you knew there would be nothing left in our way, would there? Nothing but your fear that maybe, just maybe, this could be, that we could be the real thing. That you can let me in, and I won't run away, and I won't shun you for being less than perfect. That I can potentially hurt you. Believe me, I understand. Because I feel exactly the same way when it comes to you." He shrugs. "But I was willing to take the chance. Because I trusted you. Because I thought you were worth the risk. I don't think you're there yet. I don't know if you ever will be." He turns his back to me and begins toward the door.
"I want to be." He spins around, understandably skeptical. "And that is epic for me. Hope has always let me down. It damn near destroyed me three times over. Never, not once, has it come through for me, so forgive me if this doesn't come naturally. It's not you, I swear it. A person can only be knocked down so many times before it becomes impossible to get back up. And the last time almost killed me. Literally. But I'm…finding my legs." I take a step toward him. "And you did that. You picked me up. Just…please help me the rest of the way."
He studies me, the anger fading. "Oh, Joanna. I--"
BOOM!
A huge explosion slices through the rest of his sentence. I have no idea where it comes from, not this building I don't think, but close enough I jolt. Before I can ponder this further, Jem throws me to the ground and covers my body with his just as the bay windows beside us shatter into a trillion pieces, glass and scorching air filling the room. I'm too stunned to even breathe. Motherfucker.
Jem lingers a few seconds before removing himself from me. "Are you okay?" he asks, examining me.
"I-I'm fine. I think," I say, voice shaking. He isn't. Tiny pinpricks of blood begin blooming on his white lab coat from the shards of glass. "You-You're--"
"I'm fine. I'll heal in a minute."
As we rise, car alarms wail in the distance, but I can still make out the sound of metal twisting on itself. Both our mouths drop when we view the source.
Oh, dear God.
Less than a quarter mile away what remains of the Pendergast Bridge is a twisting, splintering inferno. Flames shoot up from not only the unlucky cars on the bridge, but as the structure itself collapses, parts falling into the river where the hundred foot gap is. I gasp as a car that angling over the edge loses its battle and plummets as well. Black smoke billows where support beams and tension wires used to be. Another wire snaps and falls onto the already shaky bridge. Panicked people flee from their cars away from the wreckage. Jesus Christ.
Jem's face has solidified into stone. Without a word, he dashes out of the room with me at his heels. Uninjured hospital visitors and staff help those in need away from the glass. It's pandemonium with people screaming, crying, and bleeding all over. Jem ignores them. We run toward the elevators. He pounds the button. "Come on. Come on."