“I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, didn’t you? Does it hurt your fragile male ego that someone might want to be with me? That he might find me more worthy than you do?”
“Fuck. Topher doesn’t find you more worthy, he just wanted to piss me off. Don’t you remember him, always hovering around, creeping on you and Dara? He couldn’t wait to move in on you, even though he knew we’d been involved. Disgusting.”
“Not only am I disgusting, but I’m a pawn to make you jealous?”
“No!” He cupped his hand over his face. “Stupid, stupid, stupid, to think I could explain, and that you’d understand why I’m struggling with it.”
“You’re misjudging Christophe and assuming he had an ulterior motive. Maybe he actually liked me. Maybe he’s sweet and fun. Maybe you should pack up that oversized ego and get out!”
“You drunk-texted him before we broke up, so maybe you do need forgiveness, ’cause that’s real faithful.”
I cupped my hands over my face, cursing Luci. “She told you,” I whispered. “When?”
Someone tapped on the bedroom door. “Is everything okay in there?” Dean asked.
I wiped my eyes and padded to the door, opening it a crack, but I kept my head down. “I’m fine.” My voice trembled. “We’re working things out.”
“Yeah, that thing I said about the room? I didn’t mean in my house, at two a.m., but careful what you wish for, right?”
My cheeks flamed. “Sorry, he’ll go.”
“Jake doesn’t have to leave, but maybe stop shouting. Makes it more interesting when we have to speculate about what’s happening in here.” The man waved a hand before heading down the hall.
I closed the door, concentrating on keeping my voice low and level. “Fantastic. They heard everything.” Dropping onto the bed cross-legged, I picked at the duvet, glad that tomorrow I could escape our friends’ disappointment.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of it.” Jake perched on the edge of the mattress. “Maybe you’re right and I’m wrong, and I’m just a victim of frustration and jealousy, but it’s better that you know that I know, and… I love you, so maybe we can get past our stupid mistakes. Forgive each other and work through it.”
Tugging his hand, I drew him onto the bed. “You’re choosing option one?”
“Well, option two sucks. There’s no way to make that work.” His faint smile lightened my heart.
I crawled under the covers, hugging his hand over my heart. “Ah, Jakob, life would be dull without you. I get it now. I didn’t set out to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry. I’m even sorrier for the drunk text. I was angry and hurt and disappointed that you didn’t find me worthy of meeting Sari.”
“Yeah, I didn’t really rise to that occasion, did I? I’m sorry.” He stretched out and wiggled closer, until he was spooned against my back. “I’m not rich,” he whispered, “and our life would never be glamorous, but we could be happy. Please come home. I need you. We need you.”
We. Jake, the single dad, responsible not only for his own happiness, but for that of his precious baby girl, here offering his version of what I craved. “I don’t know if enough has changed.”
“Will you consider it? Let me prove that I deserve you?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Love can be simple if you let it.” Jake shifted, drawing me closer. “I can’t stop loving you. I just can’t.”
“Shh. Sleep. No talking. Just cuddling.”
His arms felt secure and comforting, as did the kiss pressed to my temple.
Why wasn’t what he offered enough? Being with Jake meant playing a role in his daughter’s life, even if I wasn’t clear on what that role might be. We could be a family, just not the one I’d always imagined.
Chapter 22
The early afternoon sun peeked through the greyness. I lifted my chin, sucking up the fresh breeze. A few feet later, I stopped to inspect the shiny inscription plaque on the tribute bench, one of many situated along the old Vancouver Seawall. “Come sit with me awhile.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” I said under my breath. “I accept.” I’d sat here many times, staring over the foamy waves breaking the surface of the ocean, contemplating the possibilities for my future.
I tightened my scarf and zipped my coat to my chin, balancing my cup of coffee from the café in Dundarave. The past days started their usual running loop. Would yet another replay of his last words give me the answer to my dilemma?
Give me a sign. Anyone? Anyone at all?
Two days and counting since my return from Halifax, and still, I was begging for the elusive clarity that would decide my entire life. Not quite ready to talk it out, I’d managed to dodge the calls from both Beth and Dara. I suspected their advice would only add to my confusion.
Beth’s message had been a gentle “Call me when you’re ready to talk.”
Dara’s message had been filled with excitement. “Have you booked flights? Please, please come. I need you here.” Of course, I wasn’t naive enough to believe she hadn’t coerced the low down on the rest of my conversation with Jake out of her husband.
Jake had maintained radio silence after leaving me early that morning with a kiss and a long text:
Walking away was my worst moment in a long time, but I get it. Trust me, I do. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have a ways to go before I can be what you need and give you what you want. Maybe there are things you need to sort out too. So I won’t push, even though I’m certain you belong with us.
Thank you, my beautiful Mare. For being you. For being wonderful and amazing with Sari. For being exactly what I needed these past days. For tolerating my half-cut ramblings
