New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Television game show hosts -- Fiction
"No, I'm serious." Gabby watched him closely with solemn dark eyes.
"You're two people in one. Everybody is, more or less, and it doesn't
matter. But it does to me because I'm in love with one of you and not
the other. I hate the one who built this life for you. I love the one
who's trying to knock it down. He's the real Jake."
"You've got it backwards, haven't you?"
"You've got it backwards. You admire the wrong one. You're trying to
protect the wrong one. I hate the one that's your favorite."
"But the letters? The crazy filth...?"
"I don't care. He's the one I love. He's filthy because he's never had
a chance, but he's the real Jake ... the honest Jake. He's a man to be
proud of; not the arrogant, hostile Jordan Lennox who hides him."
Lennox shook his head in bewilderment.
"Sometimes people fight to keep something alive when they should let it
be destroyed," Gabby said. "That's what you've been doing. You taught
me there are times when it's right to fight." She touched her eye.
"I'll tell you about this some day. Now I want to teach you that there
are times when it's right to surrender."
"What do you want me to do?" Lennox asked.
"Make a choice. All this and me for a mistress, or none of this and me
for a wife." She backed against the piano, still watching him intently.
"I won't cheat. I'll love my Jake just as hard as I can ... as long as
I can find him in you. But the rest is up to you. You can have your
shows and your victories and your money, and take your chance of losing
the real Jake forever...."
"And you too?"
"And me too. Or you can let this life come down in ruins ... you know
what Roy can do to both of us ... and start building the real Jake out
of the rubble."
"Maybe you're wrong about the real Jake."
"Maybe I am. That's a chance you'll have to take. But it's a fighting
chance, and you're a fighter, aren't you?"
"I used to think so."
"And there's one more thing. You know you're sick."
"I said I was."
"But you don't mean it. You're upset now, and ashamed. Later on you'll
forget. You've got to go to a doctor."
"A talk-doctor?"
"Yes. It won't be easy."
"I don't believe in analysts."
"That's why it won't be easy. But you need one, badly. You'll have to
promise to start and go through with it." Gabby took a breath. "All
right, Jordan. There's your choice. Keep on fighting the old way, or
tear it down and start fighting for something new. Make up your mind
now."
Lennox stood up slowly. He looked once around the room and then was
caught again by Gabby's intent gaze. For a long moment they stared at
each other while a voice within Lennox cried: "Run! Run! Run!" Suddenly
he reached into his jacket and pulled out the gimmick book. With one
powerful swing of his arm, he hurled it through the garden window into
oblivion. As the glass came tinkling down, he swung Gabby up in his
arms and carried her upstairs to his bed.
"I cheated," she murmured honestly. "I dressed for the part."
"Sweetheart?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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