by Helen Lacey
“I’m fine right here,” he lied. “But you should go back.”
“Not without you.”
Jonah looked to where their hands were linked. “I need to stay away from them. It’s better for everyone.”
She blanched. “It’s not better for me.”
He pulled his hands away and said some of the hardest words he’d ever uttered. “I don’t think I’m right for you, Connie.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s not true.”
“The O’Sullivans mean a lot to you,” he said and nodded. “And rightly so. They’ve protected you, helped you, made you a part of their family. But I don’t belong with them, Connie. I’m not an O’Sullivan. Maybe I am by blood. But in here,” he said and put a hand to his chest. “In here I’ll never be one of them. And they’ll never really accept me. Oh, they’ll try. They’ll make all the right noises and say all the right things, but it won’t be real. Because my real life is in Portland. Not here.”
Her eyes glistened when she realized what he meant. “You’re leaving?”
“Once I know J.D. is okay, then, yes.”
“What about us?”
He exhaled heavily. “You deserve someone who will fit into your life. That’s not me. The O’Sullivans mean the world to you... I’ll just get in the way of that.”
“You’re dumping me?”
They weren’t nice words, but there was truth in them. “I’m ending things. Before they get too serious.”
“Too serious?” she echoed. “Things are serious. At least they are for me. We made love. But more than that, we’ve become friends. You talked about marriage and—”
“I said I’d marry you if you got pregnant,” he reminded her. “But marrying me would be a disaster for you, Connie. You’d always been torn between me and the O’Sullivans. I’m not criticizing you,” he said when she started to protest. “In a way, I admire your loyalty. But we both know this relationship has run its course.”
“How can you say something like that?” He saw her hurt and it killed him. But he was right to end it. Right to set her free.
“We’ve had a nice time together. But relationships don’t always last, Connie. That’s just how things go.”
She was shaking. She was angry and hurt and he couldn’t blame her. But with time, she’d see that it was better to end things now. She pushed back the chair and got to her feet.
“So, that’s it?”
He nodded, aching all over. “Yeah...that’s it.”
Her chin came up. “I’ll tell Kieran to let you know when your dad’s condition is stable.”
He was grateful for her concern. “Thank you.”
“Goodbye, Jonah.”
He said goodbye and watched her leave, feeling as though she was taking a little piece of his heart with every step away from him. He shook his head and blinked, feeling heat at the corners of his eyes. And he drew some air into his lungs, trying to erase the image of her hurt expression from his thoughts.
But it was an epic fail.
He drank more coffee, although he wasn’t sure how long he sat at the table. An hour, maybe two. He was just about to get up and stretch his legs when Kieran came striding through the cafeteria and stopped by the table.
“It’s not his heart,” his brother said. “Looks like a severe ulcer attack.”
Jonah’s gut fell. “Is he going to be okay?”
Kieran nodded. “For now. His ulcers have been giving him a lot of grief for a while now. And although he didn’t have a heart attack, it’s likely if he doesn’t avoid stress.”
“Avoid me, you mean?”
Kieran shrugged. “You should go home. Liam’s with him now and I’ll stop by before I head out. Don’t upset him, Jonah... I don’t think he could take any more stress.”
Jonah watched as Kieran walked out of the cafeteria, his guilt like a weight on his shoulders. He waited for a while. A long while. And once he was sure all the O’Sullivans must have left, he made his way to the information desk, got J.D.’s room number and went to find him.
He’d been moved out of triage and was in a private room, monitors attached to him in various places. The nurse let Jonah in, offering him just a few minutes to visit. Jonah approached the bed slowly, his chest tightening even further. J.D. looked gray and very unwell. But he was alive—that was the important thing.
He stood by the bed, not moving, taking in J.D.’s closed eyes and shallow breathing, assailed by memories. Memories he’d hung on to for too long.
Connie was right. Maybe...it was time to forgive. He just had to take the first step. Even if it was the hardest thing he’d ever do. Because if he didn’t do it in this moment, Jonah suspected he never would.
He took a long breath, digging deep, and then Jonah said something he hadn’t dared say for close to twenty-five years.
“Dad?”
He waited, and then J.D. opened his eyes. “Hey,” he croaked out. “You’re here.”
Jonah swallowed hard. “I’m...I’m so sorry.”
J.D. patted the bed and didn’t try to hide the tears in his eyes. “It’s not your fault, son.”
“It feels like my fault,” he admitted, hearing real emotion in the way J.D. called him his son. “If I’d just let up and stopped being so—”
J.D. reached out and grabbed his hand. “It’s not your fault,” he said again. “My damned ulcers are acting up, that’s all. Don’t tell Connie or Liam, but that chef at the hotel makes the best damn fries I’ve ever had.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you blaming yourself. And if anyone tries to say any different, just tell them to go to hell.”
Jonah grinned. “You mean Liam or Kieran?” Then he frowned. “I know they’re trying. I know they are doing what they can to make the best of this situation, but the truth is, they’ll never really accept me.”
“They don’t have to,” J.D. said and sighed. “As long as you accept yourself, what does anyone else’s opinion matter?”
“It matters.”
J.D. sighed. “It will just take time, son. And you gotta let people in.”
He had a point. But Jonah still knew what he had to do. “Things will be better if I go back to Portland.”
“Running away doesn’t solve anything.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But I’m not running. I’m just going back to my real life. But I wanted to say...about you and Mom... I’m okay with it.”
“I’m glad. She cares about what you think. You’re the most important thing in the world to her, you know.”
Jonah did know. “She always put me first. Now I think it’s time she put herself first. That’s why I’m leaving...to give you two a chance to make it work without Mom thinking I’m being all disapproving and resentful. Just treat her right.”
“I will,” J.D. promised. “And thanks for calling me Dad. It means the world to me.” He paused. “So, what about Connie?”
“I ended it.”
“You sure that’s what you want to do?”
“Yes,” he replied, dying inside. “It’s for the best. She deserves better than me.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, son,” J.D. said quietly and earnestly. “You’re a good man. Your mom, she raised you right.”
Jonah squeezed his father’s hand.
“You both raised me right,” he said, and realized they were probably the kindest words he could’ve said to the older man. And in a way, the forgiveness J.D. had been seeking. He knew he had a long way to go—but it was a start.
He waited for a few seconds, saw his father’s lids close and then turned on his heel, shocked to see his mother standing in the doorway. She looked distraught, as though her world was falling apart, and Jonah knew he’d played a leading role in making her unhappy.
When he reached her, he took a long breath and
nodded. “I think he’ll be okay.”
Kathleen reached out and grasped his arm, holding him steady. “What I said earlier... I shouldn’t have said that in front of everyone and—”
“It’s fine, Mom,” he assured her gently. “I think I needed to hear it.”
There were tears in her eyes, and Jonah realized all he’d done in the past few hours was hurt the people he cared about most in the world. “I was scared and—”
“I know,” he said and grasped her hand. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. Just take care of yourself. I want you to be happy,” he said and sighed. “And if J.D. makes you happy, I’m not going to make things difficult for you.”
Tears fell down her cheeks. “We both love you very much.”
His throat constricted. “I know.”
“And Connie loves you, too,” she said quietly. “Don’t throw it away.”
Jonah’s eyes burned. Connie loved him? He wasn’t so sure. They were lovers. Friends. But they hadn’t said the words. Jonah wasn’t sure he had the courage to love anyone...to be vulnerable...to be completely open to another human being. He’d watched his mother love J.D. for thirty years and get nothing in return. It had made him cynical. And, yeah...afraid.
“She’s been through so much,” he said rawly, unsure if his mother knew about Connie’s past, and then saw compassion in her expression and realized that she did. “And she deserves more than my messed-up life. She’s close to the O’Sullivans, and rightly so. If I’m around, I’ll just get in the way of that.”
“Who says she can’t have both?”
“Me. Not when I feel about them the way I do. I can make peace with J.D., and I can accept that you two are together, but the rest of them...” His words trailed off for a moment. “They want to make me fit into their nice little family unit, and I can’t. I’m not one of them. I’m a Rickard, Mom, not an O’Sullivan. You know that as much as I do.”
“Who says you can’t be both?”
“I do,” he replied heavily. “I know myself. I don’t want to be a part of them, knowing it’s just because they feel they have to include me, for J.D.’s sake. They don’t really like me, and that’s fine, I can live with that. I don’t need them,” he said, hating that the words made him feel so foolishly alone. “But Connie does. And I won’t ask her to choose. They were there for her when she was young, when she needed protection. I wasn’t.”
“You can’t slay her dragons, Jonah,” his mother said, as though reading his mind. “And you can’t change the past. You have to live for today and hope for tomorrow.”
“I know, Mom,” he said and hugged her briefly. “But Connie needs them more than she needs me in her life.”
“What she needs,” his mother said pointedly, “is your love. Don’t forget that in your desire to do the right thing, or be honorable, or in thinking that she would choose loyalty over anything else.”
“I know her,” he said and tapped his chest. “I know this is for the best.”
As he said goodbye and walked away, Jonah realized that he was totally in love with Connie. And that’s why he was letting her go.
* * *
Four days into her new job as assistant manager of the O’Sullivan Hotel, Connie knew that the longer hours and busy schedule were exactly what she needed to keep from going out of her mind. Christmas was looming, and she had already handled more than one potential mishap. The sous chef quit, for starters, over a dispute with the head chef, and it took all of Connie’s negotiating skills to get the two to work out their differences.
If only it had been that easy between her and Jonah!
She hadn’t heard from him. She hadn’t heard his voice or his laugh or a whisper against her skin as they made love. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. It was as though he’d dropped off the face of the planet. Which, of course, he hadn’t. He was back in Portland. Back where he belonged.
And she missed him.
She missed him so much she ached inside.
But she wasn’t about to call him. He was the one who’d ended things. He was the one who didn’t think they were worth fighting for. Worth anything, really. To Jonah, she was clearly just someone who had warmed his bed a few times. Warmed her bed, actually. Since their relationship had played out mostly in the confines of her house. Which meant every room was filled with memories of him...of them. As brief as it had been, Jonah was her first real relationship...the first man she’d allowed into her bed and her heart. And now both those things felt empty.
“Connie?”
Liam had poked his head in the door. She looked up from her desk.
“Are you coming?” he asked.
She nodded. He’d invited her to dinner with his family, a kind of pre-Christmas catch-up, all the more important because J.D. was back on his feet and Sean had arrived a couple of days earlier from Los Angeles to see the family over the holiday season.
“Sure,” she said and packed up her desk.
The restaurant was busy, but a corner table had been reserved and everyone was there.
Not everyone.
J.D. and Kathleen were out and about together. All of the O’Sullivans and the Rickards had shown up, even Gwen, who had clearly and graciously come to terms with her ex-husband’s relationship with Kathleen. It was a noisy group. Nicola’s two nephews were chatting tirelessly, Gwen and J.D.’s three young granddaughters were keeping the older woman occupied. Everyone who was an O’Sullivan, either by birth or marriage or some other link, was there.
Except Jonah.
His absence was conspicuous. At least to Connie.
Somehow, she found herself seated between J.D. and Liam, and she thought how poignant that was. Ten years ago, both men had saved her. Not only from her attackers, but from pain and humiliation. They’d protected her, watched over her, given her hope and opportunity. And she’d grown strong under their protection.
But as she sipped wine and made small talk, Connie experienced an acute sense of disconnect. Not that she would allow anyone to see it. No one except Jonah. She had let him into her life and her heart, unlike she ever had before. Past her walls, to truly see her. And he listened. He was the most wonderful listener. And now, she missed that.
Looking around, she knew that they felt sorry for her, or commiserated with her, or thought she was better off without him. Or all three things. And there had been times since he’d left when she was torn between loving and hating him. But loving always won out.
“Everything okay Connie?”
It was J.D., looking healthier and more robust than he had in ages. It was wonderful to see him so happy and content and clearly in love with Kathleen. Everyone seemed happy.
Everyone except me.
“I’m fine,” she lied and plastered on a smile.
“New job going well?”
She nodded. “Perfectly. Liam’s only slightly less bossy than usual.”
“I heard that,” Liam said and grinned. “Don’t be fooled—Connie rules the hotel, not me. I’m thrilled to take a step back and let someone else be the boss some of the time.”
“Me, too,” Kayla said and sighed lovingly when Liam grasped her hand. “I love that we get to spend more time at home with Jack. Together.”
Yeah, there certainly was a lot of couple love at the table. Other than Gwen, who was wrapped up in her granddaughters, only Sean looked slightly out of place. But he appeared more bored than anything else. And Connie’s loneliness amplified tenfold.
“I miss him,” she whispered, unsure if anyone heard.
J.D. did. So did Kathleen.
His mother sighed. “Me, too. He’s just so distant these days.”
“Well,” the older man said, “he has to work this out in his own way and his own time.”
Connie wasn’t so sure. Jonah was stubborn. And opinionated. But he was also incredibly emotional and breatht
akingly passionate. Not really traits of someone who thrived on isolation. She didn’t believe that about him. He loved his mother, and as much as he’d denied it, she knew he cared about J.D. Plus, she’d watched him around his brothers; she’d seen firsthand the budding camaraderie and friendship. But it was early days. Too early for Jonah. He was so stubborn, and so afraid of being hurt, she knew he couldn’t see an end to the whole complicated situation. But there was, she was sure of it. He just had to open himself up to it. Stubbornness, she thought again. He was cloaked in the stuff.
“He’s a jerk,” Liam said quietly but impatiently. “Forget about him.”
Connie turned her attention to her boss. “I can’t. Can you?”
He shrugged. “Dad’s right...he needs to work this out for himself. Forcing him to accept us isn’t his style.”
They didn’t know him at all.
“It’s about self-preservation,” she said, louder this time. “Do any of you think you’d behave any differently if the roles had been reversed?”
Eight sets of eyes, excluding the kids’, zoomed in on her. Everyone thought they knew him. But they’d only scratched the surface. No one understood. Except perhaps Kathleen.
And Gwen.
From the end of the table, Gwen was nodding. “Connie’s right. Everyone is quick to judge, but take a moment to consider how you would feel, being faced with this group. I like Jonah,” she said and smiled at Connie. “And I think he’s exactly what this family needs. Someone who isn’t bogged down in our reputation or social standing. Someone who sees us all for what we are—flawed and imperfect and full of love for one another, even if it’s hard to love each other sometimes. You think he needs space?” Gwen said and shook her head. “What he needs is exactly the opposite. He needs to know that we’re not okay with him keeping his distance.”
Connie’s heart almost burst with pride and admiration for the other woman.
Because Gwen was right.
Jonah didn’t need space...he’d had space for thirty years.
“Thank you, Gwen. You’re right. That’s exactly what he needs.” She got to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me.”