by Lacey Black
I think I’m going to be sick.
“The sunlight reflects off your skin like a beacon of home, radiating love and joy wherever you go.” I realize Emma is standing beside me, reading over my arm. “That’s a tad on the cheesy side, if you ask me,” she adds, adjusting the book the letters fell out of. “But I’m sure he still got some. Ladies always eat that sweet stuff up.”
“What book was it in?” I ask, my hands shaky.
“The Scarlet Letter. Huh, that’s sort of poetic, right? The proverbial homewrecker who cheats on her presumably-dead husband and has an illegitimate love child.”
My eyes must be as wide as saucers when I look at the older woman. Emma must be able to sense my duress and grabs the chair behind the desk. As if on autopilot, I take a seat, the familiar panic attack rearing its ugly head. I hear Emma speaking, but I can’t make out her words. All I can do is stare down at the unfamiliar handwriting and the blurring words.
Suddenly, Jensen is there, crouching down in front of me. His eyes are full of concern and his mouth is moving, but I can’t hear him. My blood is roaring in my ears and the sound of my labored breathing is echoing off the walls. He reaches up and cups my cheek with his warm, calloused hand. The sensation instantly soothes me and I can’t help but close my eyes.
“That’s it, Kate. Deep breaths,” I finally hear, his voice firm, yet so soft and approving.
I focus on my breathing, in through my nose and out through my mouth. When I open my eyes, he’s there, a tentative smile on his lips and eyes so full of relief. “There you are,” he says gently, running his finger up and down my cheek. “You scared us for a second.”
“I’m sorry,” I croak through my dry throat.
“I’ll grab some water,” Emma says, disappearing from the room.
I glance to the right and find Max, tears marring his small face. “Oh,” I choke, reaching for the little boy and pulling him into my arms. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”
“You couldn’t breathedid. I didn’t like it,” he whispers, his small arms hanging on to my shoulders for dear life.
“I’m so sorry, Max.” I pull back to look at him in the eyes. “Sometimes, I have what are called panic attacks. They hit me fast and make it so I have a hard time breathing, but it always passes within a few minutes.” His eyes bore into me as he listens, trying hard to understand what I’m saying.
“Are you sick?”
I give him a small smile. “No, sweetheart, I’m not sick. It’s just something that happens every once in a while.”
“I don’t like it,” he confesses, pulling me into another hug.
“Me either,” I reply softly, engulfing him in my own hug.
“Here you go,” Emma interrupts, handing Jensen a glass of water.
“Take a drink,” he instructs, handing me the glass. I slowly pull back from the little boy and reach a shaky hand for the glass. “Max, Kate is going to be okay. Do you want to go over and finish your painting while she relaxes for a few minutes?”
Max seems hesitant to leave me, and if I weren’t totally in love with this little boy before, I’d be all the way there now. But I do love him. Him and his dad.
“It’s okay, Just Max. I’m going to be fine. You go finish your painting, and when it’s finished drying, we’ll hang it on the wall.”
“We will? Where?” he asks, his baby blues wide with surprise and elation.
“Well, after it’s dry, we can walk around the house and find the perfect spot for it. How about that?” I ask, giving him a warm grin.
“Yay! I’ll go finish it now,” he hollers before taking off to the easel, earlier panic and fear all but forgotten.
“You okay?” Jensen asks, pulling my attention back to him.
I nod, taking a small sip of cold liquid in my mouth.
“What brought that on?” he asks, his warm fingers lightly caressing my upper thighs.
“We found these letters,” I tell him, glancing around for the papers I had in my hand before the attack. Orval gathered them up. They’re a little wrinkled from my death-grip on them, but they’re still legible and intact.
“What kind of letters?” he asks, taking the stack from his uncle.
“Love letters. I think my dad was having an affair,” I whisper, hating saying the words aloud. In all honesty, I’m surprised, yet I’m not. My father worshipped his family, but my mother was a tad on the…frigid side. If he had an affair, while I don’t condone it in any way, shape, or form, I can sort of see why he might have gone looking for affection elsewhere.
God, this is hard.
Jensen reads the letter on top. His eyes fly to mine, as if seeking confirmation, before flipping the page and reading the next. And the next. Redness tinges his cheeks and his ears as he takes in the words spoken between my father and his mysterious lover.
“Where did you find these?” he chokes out, his blue eyes wide with disbelief.
“They fell out of one of the books your aunt was putting away. The Scarlet Letter. Can you believe that?”
Jensen’s entire demeanor changes. He looks…angry. His handsome face is tight and his blush more pronounced. His entire body is rigid, and not in that sexy way I’ve come to know and love.
“Are you okay?” I ask, reaching my hand forward and resting it on his.
His face softens, but only a little. He looks so forlorn, so upset. “I’m fine, Butterfly, don’t you worry about me. I’m the one who should be worried,” he says.
“I’m fine. The attack has passed,” I insist.
As soon as my words are out of my mouth, he stands up and starts to pace. Three steps to my left before turning and making half a dozen in the opposite direction. Then, he turns and does it over again. I open my mouth, but no words come out. I have no idea what has happened to change his entire demeanor, but I definitely don’t like it.
Finally, he stops directly in front of me, tosses the letters on the desk, and takes my face in his hands. “Listen, I have something I need to go do. Can I leave Max here for a little bit?”
“Of course, but what—” I start, but am cut off.
“I promise to explain when I get back. I just need to run and talk to someone real fast, okay?”
His eyes are pleading, and even though I want to ask more questions, I’m not sure I’d get the answers right now. There’s something clearly going on, and Jensen needs to figure it out. Alone. So as hard as it is to not demand he stay and talk to me, I simply nod my head. “Okay, we’ll be here when you get back.”
Jensen gives me a smile that melts my heart and pulls me to his lips. They’re urgent, hungry even, but don’t stay nearly as long as I’d like them to. “Thank you,” he urges, placing a second kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be back shortly and then I’ll explain.”
I feel the loss of his skin as he lets me go and heads over to his son. “I have to run an errand, okay, Buddy? You’re going to stay here with Kate and finish your painting,” he says to Max.
“Okay!” Max agrees easily, barely taking his eyes off his work of art.
Jensen ruffles his son’s hair before turning and heading to the doorway. When he reaches it, he stops and glances my way. “I love you.”
The shock of his words causes my mouth to fall open and my heart to try to pound its way out of my chest. Before I can even think about replying (and heaven knows I want to say it back), he disappears, the sound of the front door closing heard a few seconds later.
“Well, there’s nothing like a love declaration to get the ol’ vagina juices pumping.”
The words shock me out of my stupor. I glance over at the elderly woman, who wears a mischievous grin on her wrinkled face. “You probably shouldn’t say vagina in front of the four-year-old,” I whisper, turning to head back to my pile of papers.
I grab what’s left of the stack and start flipping through it. Most of the records are old and don’t need to be kept, and I end up just tossing them in the shred pile. I love you. His words repeat ov
er and over in my mind, and I can’t help but grin widely.
“That’s the smile of a woman in love,” Emma says, shuffling over to stand beside me.
Glancing her way, I reply, “I love him too.”
“Of course you do, dear. I knew that the moment I met you. I’m just glad our boy finally said it.”
I turn to check on Max, who’s happily swiping brown paint across the canvas. When I move to face Emma, I finally whisper, “We haven’t said it yet.”
She gives me one of those knowing, gentle pats on the arm before replying, “You may not have both said the words, but it has been felt for a while. In fact, it probably never left. Not really. Sure, you both moved on for a short period of time, but the love you two carry runs deep and true. It was bound to pull you back together again.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears as I hold her gaze. She’s absolutely right. Did I love Charles? Yes. Was it the same kind of love I feel with Jensen? No. This love is all-consuming and powerful. It’s as if I can’t fathom waking up in the morning without him by my side. It’s crazy, really. We’ve only reconnected for a handful of weeks, but here we are, in love and anxious to see what comes next.
“Where do you think he went?” Orval asks, taking his wife’s hand in his own and bringing it to his lips.
“I don’t know,” I confess.
An uneasy feeling sweeps through me as I try to imagine whatever it was that pulled Jensen away so quickly. If I had to guess, I’d say it had something to do with my dad’s letters, and that part scares me most of all.
Why?
Chapter Twenty-One
Jensen
I drive my truck down the street and pull into the driveway. I feel like I’ve just run a race, my heart is pounding and my breathing labored. Can this really be happening? There’s only one way to find out. Taking my keys from the ignition, I climb out of my truck and head for the front door.
My knock is loud and insistent, and it only takes a few seconds for the door to open.
“Jensen?”
My dad stands there, his hair almost completely gray and with his faded T-shirt stretched tightly over his paunch belly. “I need to talk to you,” I reply in way of greeting, not even waiting for him to open the screen door for me. I pull it open and slip inside.
“Uh, okay,” he says as he closes the door behind me. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Soda? I think Baylee has some of that fancy flavored tea crap that tastes like garbage,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous manner.
“Did you have an affair with Kate’s mom?” I blurt out, unable to hold it in any longer.
Dad’s eyes widen, almost comically, before he takes a seat on the couch. “Sit down,” he says, sounding defeated.
“I’d rather stand,” I bite.
He exhales. “Please, Jensen. If we’re going to have this conversation, I’d rather you sit.”
Not wanting to give in, I go ahead and take a seat. Something tells me I won’t like what he has to say anyway. “Fine. I’m sitting. Now, did you have an affair with Annabelle Elliott?”
“Yes.”
I close my eyes, hating the confirmation. Hating the man for putting me in this situation. Hating the carnage he always seems to leave in his wake. “Why? When?” I reply, my voice barely audible.
“It was after I left your mother, if that’s what you’re asking.” It was what I was asking, but that only makes me feel marginally better. “I met Annabelle when I did some custom building work at their house.”
“When?” I demand, needing to piece together the timeline.
He seems to think about it for just a moment before answering, “Your senior year of high school.”
I shake my head, my heart dropping into my boots. “My senior year? While I was dating Kate?”
Dad nods his head once to confirm. “These things just happen,” he says with the wave of his hand, like there’s no big deal.
“Just happen? Buying the wrong spaghetti sauce just happens. Forgetting to stop for milk after work just happens. Your dick falling into my girlfriend’s mother doesn’t just happen!” I realize I’m standing up, pacing in front of the worn couch.
“Jensen, settle down. It’s not like I was looking for an affair. I was happy with Tasha,” he says, referring to the much younger woman he cheated on my mom with.
“Obviously,” I retort, sarcasm very evident in my bite.
Dad exhales and sits forward, resting his hands on his knees. “Listen, I don’t have to explain my personal life to you, but I’m going to in this case.”
“This case? This case? You were screwing my girlfriend’s very married mother, Dad.”
“I know, Jensen. We met when she hired me to build a desk for her husband’s office,” he says, and my stomach falls to the floor. The desk in the office was built by my dad? Seriously? Can this shit get any worse? “I went over to meet with her and one thing led to another.”
Not wanting to hear any of the details, I interrupt. “Letters. You wrote her letters.”
Dad seems surprised by my statement. “How did you know that?”
“Kate found them about an hour ago.”
“Oh,” was his only reply. Clearing his throat, he continues. “Well, yes, we wrote each other letters. We couldn’t exactly call each other or risk Tasha and Hans finding out about our times together.”
“How long? How long did you screw a married woman behind everyone’s back?” I demand.
Dad sighs. “About six months. The entire time it took me to build the desk. When the job was complete, I ended things.”
I blink repeatedly at my dad. “You ended things?”
He nods. “Yes. You had just graduated from high school and were planning to go to school. Kathryn was going with you, right?” he asks. When I give a single head nod, he goes on. “Well, when I knew you were serious about the girl, I told Annabelle we had to stop.”
“You ended it for me?”
“Well,” he starts, adjusting in his seat. “Well, that and because Hans had found out.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “That’s why they left,” I whisper, mostly to myself.
“Yeah. She wanted to keep seeing me on the side, but I wasn’t so sure. Tasha had left when she found out about the affair. Hans came over and confronted me. Tasha was here. She took off immediately. I told Hans I was done, but he was still pissed as hell.”
“You don’t say,” I growl, unable to hold back the sarcasm.
“Anyway, she showed up on my doorstep later that night, distraught. Hans was leaving and going to New York. She wanted to stay with me, but was accustomed to a lifestyle I couldn’t give her. I told her it was fun while it lasted, but it wasn’t long term.”
I stand there, staring in shock at the man I really don’t know. He’s so blasé about having an affair, about ending it, about the fact he was wrecking lives and didn’t have a care in the world.
“Don’t look at me like that. She knew going into it I didn’t want forever. I wanted a good time, but that was it.”
I shake my head in disgust. “I can’t even believe I’m related to you.”
He seems shocked by my statement. “Listen, son, I know I’ve made my share of mistakes, but don’t ever doubt my love for you and your siblings your entire lives. Yes, I cheated on your mother. Yes, I cheated on Tasha with Annabelle. Yes, I’ve regretted it each and every time, but I’ve been trying to be a better man.”
“You’re a coward,” I whisper, hating the fact sadness is mixing with my anger, but at the end of the day, he’s still my dad.
He hangs his head. “I am.”
“I’m going home to tell Kate about this. I won’t keep it from her, especially after she found the letters,” I tell him.
He seems conflicted. “It was a long time ago, son.”
“Yeah, but she needs to know why she was moved in the middle of the night without warning or reason. She needs to know it wasn’t her father having the aff
air, as her mother had stated. She needs to know why her life was ripped apart all those years ago.”
Dad just slowly nods his head. “Okay.”
As I turn to head toward the front door, he stops me. “Jensen?” I don’t look over my shoulder to where he still sits. “How did you know the letters were from me?”
I close my eyes and exhale. “I stopped by for a visit my senior year, helped you work on something in the garage. You had a phone call and tried to step outside for privacy. The garage door was open and some of your words carried. It was clear who you were talking to was female and probably someone you shouldn’t have been speaking to. You called her Pookie.”
“I’m sorry, son. I never meant to hurt you. Back then,” he stops and shakes his head. “I just wasn’t in a good place. I was selfish, and that’s on me. There are a lot of things I regret. Hurting your mother and you kids is at the top of the list.” I barely hear the words they’re so quiet, but the one thing is evident: his remorse.
Before I completely slip out the door, I turn his way. “I just hope you treat Baylee better. She doesn’t deserve you lying and cheating.”
“I’m not, I swear. I haven’t done…that since Annabelle.”
I look him in the eye and nod. “Good.”
“Hey, Jensen?” he asks, stopping me once more. “If you ever want to…you know, talk or have dinner or something, let me know.”
Torn between wanting it and wanting to walk away, I give him the only answer I can right now. “I’ll think about it.”
Dad nods and doesn’t stop me again.
I make my way to my truck, the weight of his confession heavy on my shoulders. I know I need to talk to Kate, but I just need a minute. I need time to process. Time to come to grips with the road paved with our parents’ mistakes and the impact they’ve had on our lives.
Instead of driving out to the Elliott mansion as planned, I head in another direction, one that’s just as familiar as any other path. The familiar landscape comes into view as I slow to make the turn. I head up the driveway and park in front of the garage, next to my sister’s car and Rhenn’s truck. Before my feet hit the steps, the screened door opens and my mom walks out, a bright smile on her face.