“Of course.” He sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at me.
“What I say has to remain between us. Promise?” I levelled my gaze at him.
“Sounds serious.”
I leaned back against the dresser, nodding. “I’m concerned about Jake.”
Dean straightened, his full attention on me.
“What you said, about him being all smiles while drowning, it’s right on the mark. He’s in the middle of an existential crisis, sending out mixed signals.”
“Yeah, I’m aware.” Dean sighed. “Jake never came out and said it, but I suspected you two had reconnected. He hates being away from Sari, but those trips to Vancouver … I swear they saved him.”
I covered my face with both hands, shaking my head. “Please, please don’t say that. I can’t be his emotional crutch. Maybe our relationship is comfortable for him, like I’m an old pair of shoes, but it isn’t healthy.”
“No, no, you have it all wrong.” He pinched his nose, scrunching his face. “What he’s feeling is anything but comfort. Jake’s on that ride, the one with the out-of-control plummet, one that you long for but at the same time, you dread its ending. He’s been running blind and scared, second guessing every single decision he makes, because his daughter’s life depends on it.”
“I fear what we’ve been doing hasn’t helped that situation.”
“Well, it sure as hell didn’t hurt. You know, I’d love to lock you two in a room and leave you there until you work out your shit, but we both know what you two would be doing. Not talking, that for damn sure.”
“Ugh. Dean. Stop.”
“You know, that’s always been the thing. You two have this off-the-charts chemistry, but you just can’t figure out how to get on the same page. There are these flashes of it, but it never quite gels.”
“Yet you two are determined to keep pushing us together.”
“Well, I’m all about the science. Facts. Before the wedding, Jake was sinking fast, barely getting through the days. Part of it was the process. The grief, the guilt, the turmoil of dealing with death, none of it’s easy. I admit, sometimes I was terrified he wouldn’t pull through.” He scrubbed at his hair. “Then I give you two a little push and bam!” He smacked a fist into his palm. “You lit up like a pair of Roman candles, and I knew we needed you back.”
“Did you now.” This astute man might be talking some sort of sense, even if I didn’t want to hear it. He’d been there through it all, and I hadn’t, so maybe I should consider his words.
“You’re his magical antidote.” Dean nodded. “Keep loving him, keep supporting him, and he’ll get there.”
Just where did he mean?
The man chuckled. “Don’t look so concerned. We’re looking out for him until you come home.”
Far from setting me at ease, the conversation with Dean only raised more questions, though I trusted my words had heightened his vigilance. The man seemed calm and collected, but I detected a note of concern underneath his smooth words.
Shortly before ten, noting Dara’s smothered yawns and surreptitious eye rubbing, I stood and stretched. “I should finish packing. Early flight tomorrow.”
Dara’s eyes grew misty as she hugged me. “It went too fast. Promise you’ll come for the holidays?”
“I’ll do my best. Thank you for inviting me. I had fun.” I kissed her cheek, then found myself engulfed in Dean’s embrace.
“Love you, sweetheart.” He squeezed me tighter and whispered, “I’ve got him, Mar, but I expect you to haul your ass home soon.”
I kissed his cheek, grateful yet again that this couple had welcomed me back into their lives. With a small wave, I retreated to the guest room, holding back my sniffles as I tucked my makeup bag into my suitcase.
At ten thirty, I checked in for my flight and scanned my text messages, but there was nothing from Jake. Not that I expected anything after his outburst today.
The more I thought about it, the more sure I was that I’d refuse Dara’s invitation. For me to be included meant for Jake to be excluded, and I couldn’t take away his support system. Halifax was his home, not mine, and he’d need his friends during what might be a difficult holiday.
I pushed away the pillow that still smelled like him and closed my eyes, practicing my relaxing breaths until I drifted to the edge of sleep. Every now and then, little sounds invaded. The murmur of voices in the hall, the click of a bedroom door, the rush of warm air through the heating vents. Thoughts invaded too, but those I pushed away, restarting my meditative countdown and breathing.
The mattress quivered, and something brushed across my hair. “Mar,” a deep voice whispered. “It’s me.”
I’m dreaming, hearing his voice everywhere. In … and out … ten … nine … eight …
Heavy clothing rustled and dropped to the carpet, and the bed jiggled, followed by warm arms encircling me. “Mare,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for going off on you.”
“Jake?” I wiggled onto my back, staring at the dark figure beside me. “How did you get in here? What is it with you sneaking into bedrooms?”
His warm breath carried a waft of alcohol. “I have keys, just in case.”
Of course, he did. “Are you drunk? Where’s Sari?”
“With Marisol.” He tucked his cheek against my neck. “I hate how that went down, me yelling, you running. I swear, we’ve always invented our own issues, engaging in stupid fights, and endless, meaningless arguments about nothing. Well, not nothing. I’m pissed that you slept with him.”
“We’d broken up.” I pressed my face against his shoulder.
“Yeah, I get that. I love you, and I forgive you.”
“Forgive me?”
“Yeah, for being with him.”
I bolted upright. “Don’t you dare waltz in here pretending to be some saint and acting like I need forgiveness. You have two choices. One”—I pointed
