When she came through the door, it was her eyes that caught me offguard. Swollen and wet with shame. Lost and innocent, begging for retribution.
She didn’t fight me when I told her I wanted to end the open side of our marriage. Didn’t even hesitate. Relief was a costume I wore. Glued to my skin.
I wouldn’t lose her. I couldn’t.
But that meant I had to let Jessica go… and finding the courage to do that seemed impossible.
A storm had knocked out the power the last time I met Jessica.
Whipping winds beat angry fists against the windows. Thick, heavy droplets splattered my shame against the building. Every selfish decision I’d made were like bricks tied to my ankles, weighing me down. Crippling who I thought I was.
She stood in the doorway to our apartment, soaked to the bone, a harrowing plea in her eyes that would forever haunt me. Her fists in tight balls at her sides, one hand clutching the phone with the last text I’d sent her glaring on the screen.
We must end it.
Standing there, my heart bucking against my chest as candlelight flickered off the beads of water on her skin, I didn’t know how to do it… how to let her go.
I never expected to fall in love with her, but I’d been lying to myself from the moment I first saw her. Replacing my truths with excuse after excuse, never thinking they’d run out. It was easy to live in a moment. To accept a lie because I was too weak to stand up to it. To put in the work and say no when the time called for it.
I was a coward. Spineless and undeserving. Too scared to leave, and too selfish to stay.
In the end, someone would end up broken for it. I realized that.
I just never wanted that someone to be Jess.
“Is this really what you want?” Her chest rose and fell with every jagged breath that shuddered past her lips. Pain had poisoned the green of her eyes, dark swirls sucking away all the color I loved. I’d done this to her. I’d taken her spirit and crushed it with my selfishness.
And all I could do to make amends was let her go.
I nodded, too afraid I’d give her the truths that lived within me, my love for her that crippled me. Too afraid that if I spoke, I’d tell her I didn’t want to end it, that I wanted to choose her. I couldn’t do that—not to her, not to Corinne. I’d gotten us all into this mess; I had to be the one to make it right.
My heart sputtered dull, grievous beats. This was the only way. I’d made my choice, and I had to stand by it.
Her hands went limp, defeat curling in her shoulders. “I won’t stand in your way,” she said, her voice and body shivering. “I kind of always knew this day would come.”
She offered a worn-down smile. A limp curve. Though she continued to stand—waiting, hoping.
I squeezed my eyes shut, locking away what really wanted deep inside. Knowing this decision was for the best.
“Goodbye, Jessica.”
When I opened my eyes, she was gone.
And so was my heart.
Chapter 5
Jessica
Two Years Later
I stirred chocolate into the cream base with my attention set on the TV in front of me. The couple on the screen embraced. Longing roped knots around my stomach when their lips came together. Their bodies melting against one another.
How long had it been since I’d felt the warmth of a man’s arms?
Since I’d felt anything?
This was never what I had imagined for my life.
I wasn’t supposed to be the woman stuck in a loveless marriage. I wasn’t supposed to lose the love of my life.
Sometimes, I gazed into the mirror and wondered who the stranger was who stared back at me with pale skin and a dimmed smile. She couldn’t be me. She was too sad. Her shoulders slouched. Regrets buried in purple graves under her eyes.
How could I have lost so much of myself, after only finding it for such a brief amount of time? I was careless during my time with Jack. Giving little sheets of IOUs to my heart for every second it allowed me to feel. Promising I’d pay it back this time with a real love.
A love I still felt to my core, years later.
Did the woman looking back at me know a secret? There were times her smile would lift, but it vanished as soon as I’d notice it. Was she free, the woman inside the glass? Or was the mirror her cage?
If I broke the glass, would it set us both free?
Deep in my marrow, Jack was the one. But he’d slipped through my fingers like sand, leaving me alone in my own desert of despair.
Leaving me…alone.
“Why the long face?”
Hank’s gravelly voice made me jump. “I don’t have a long face.”
He came up behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. I tensed at his touch, stomach curling in on itself. “Well, I’ll be out tonight. Don’t wait for me.”
He didn’t bring his lovers home anymore. Hadn’t since Ciana was born.
I turned and smiled sweetly, patting his hand. “I never do.”
“Can you check on the ice cream sandwiches?” I asked Bailey while I pulled out an empty tub of chocolate ice cream from the display case.
The puttering sounds of the children laughing sang outside before they came through the front door of the shop, their bags slung over their shoulders. I was grateful for how well they got along. How they loved each other faithfully, making sure to take care of one another.
I was finishing up my shift as I came around the counter and kissed them each on their cheeks.
“Have a good day?” It was the same question I posed every time they came home from school. This was the highlight of my afternoon. Eager to know what they went through. How their lives were shaping for them. There was so much potential in their eyes. A road of gold paved before them.
“Sure.” Ciana offered an exaggerated eye roll while tugging on the strap against her shoulder. Her usual response. Finding out details about her day was akin to pulling teeth. She saved the gossip for her friends and the many phone calls she received every night. She was so much like me it made me smile. Same blond hair. Same kept smile she only let out for those she truly cared for.
She had a stubbornness that couldn’t be matched. It irritated Hank, but I didn’t mind it. I liked that she knew herself. That she felt comfortable enough in her skin not to be easily swayed.
“How ’bout you?” I hugged Nicolas to me. He’d taken on my softer, quieter side. Squared glasses framed his face, his large, brown eyes peeking through. A gentle heart with a keen curiosity.
He shrugged, then brushed past me for the stairs that led to our home above the shop.
“Sounds like you both had a wonderful day.” Laughter wafted off my lips as I watched them disappear around the corner. I turned a moment later, just in time to catch a customer stroll through the front door. “You okay to handle everything?” I asked Bailey. She took over most night shifts, so I could be with the kids after school. She’d started at the shop when I did. And she stayed when the owners had passed the business down to me seven years ago.
Carol and Joseph were the closest thing I had to parents after I’d been kicked out. I’d started working for them when I was fifteen, but I’d met them long before that. They were close with my parents. Joseph went to school with my father.
If anyone could get through to them, it was Joseph.
When Ciana was born and my parents found out who the father was, Joseph sat them down. After hours of conversation, they agreed to let me move back in. Although we were married, Mom didn’t like the idea of me living alone with Hank… a man she trusted. A snake she let into her home.
They knew Hank’s ways. How rough he was around the edges. The way he dabbled with women.
For the first few months, although there was tension, we got along. But, over time, Mom pecked and pecked at my choices until I couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t like that I remained married to a man who wasn’t faithful to me. She didn’t like how I let Ciana sleep with me in the
bed sometimes. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like that. To keep from further damaging our relationship, I decided to move back in with Hank when he promised he’d stop bringing women home.
Carol and Joseph offered to let me stay with them instead, but I didn’t want another situation like I had with my mother. I didn’t want to ruin what worked well enough.
Once an adult was on their own two feet, it became near impossible to revert to living under someone. I knew firsthand.
When they passed a few years back, I was named in their will as the sole owner of the ice cream shop. A means to ensure I could be financially stable with or without my husband.
If only I could find the courage to leave him.
Bailey grinned as she made her way to the counter. “Seriously, Jess? You have to ask?” She took the card offered from the customer and swiped it through the register. She was a sturdy presence. Someone I could count on. She knew about Hank and me, though she never judged. Never gossiped.
Once the customer left, I kissed her on the cheek and then headed up the stairs. The kids were pushing each other out of the way in front of the refrigerator by the time I made it into the apartment.
“I want the pudding.” Nicolas shoved his hand past Ciana, only to come up short. Being five years younger had its disadvantages. She was sixteen, with a long reach.
Ciana sucked her teeth. “It’s the last one, turd, and you had two yesterday.” She shoved him out of the way with her hip, warranting a groan.
“All right, all right.” I stood beside them, hands on my hips, suppressing a laugh. “How about I make some more pudding, and then everyone can have some?”
They groaned. With a sly smirk, Ciana snatched up the last pudding and ran for her room, shutting the door before Nicolas could get to her.
“Mom!” With a small grunt, Nicolas ran after her. Seconds later, his fists beat wildly against her door.
“Go away.”
A moment later, Nicolas trudged into the kitchen, shoulders slumped.
“Come here.” I pulled out all the ingredients with a smile that was marshmallow soft. “Help me make it?”
He sighed, but came over anyway. Nicolas was my sensitive child. He used to cling to me when he was little. Always attached to my hip. He’d once told me we had imprinted on each other, which meant we could never separate. Vowed that when he grew up, he wouldn’t be like the other kids who left their parents. He would stay and take care of me. Get a job at the shop and help me.
He had a special place in my heart.
We silently worked side by side. His little hands whisked the mix together as I readied the containers, humming one of the many tunes that floated through my head. It was how we always cooked together. Nicolas loved being in the kitchen just as much as I did. He had the gift.
When the pudding was done, he sat at the kitchen table and licked the backside of his spoon with a big fat smile on his face.
“So... any plans for this weekend?” It was Thursday. That was when they’d plot whose house they would be spending the night at. The kids loved being around their friends. Any chance to get out of the house.
Honestly, and somewhat shamefully, I preferred it that way. It kept them unaware of Hank’s absence. Friday and Saturday nights were his to cut loose and meet with his flavor of the week. I chose to dedicate that time to a local women’s shelter where I had been volunteering for the past ten years.
“Max wants me to come over tomorrow if that’s cool.”
“I’m sure it will be fine with your father.” I opened the fridge to see what there was for dinner. It was a choice between ground beef or chicken cutlets. “What about your sister?”
I knew they talked.
He shrugged, placing the bowl and spoon into the sink. “I don’t know. She said something about going to Janie’s house.”
“Of course.” Janie was her best friend. They were nearly inseparable.
“Mom?”
When I glanced over at him, my stomach instantly shifted. A rolling discomfort at the way he couldn’t quite meet my eyes.
“I, uh… I have a question.”
“Okay.” I took a seat at the table across from him. His concern was palpable by the way his heavy gaze fell to his bowl like two bags of bricks dropped from the top of the Empire State Building.
My heart ached, bled for him, leading me to reach out for his arm. “What is it, Nic?”
He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Why uh… why do you and Dad sleep in separate beds?”
My stomach twisted and pinched. Instinctually, I’d known this question would come one day, but I wasn’t prepared for it to happen now. I thought I still had time. Especially since I managed to get past Ciana without an interrogation.
“My friends… all their parents sleep in the same room.”
My thoughts huddled together, desperately seeking to find the right answer.
Ciana came out and dropped her pudding cup into the garbage. When she noticed the disquiet, she stilled. “Why the long faces?”
She sounded too much like her father.
“I asked Mom about her and Dad.”
“Oh…” Ciana leaned against the fridge. It was a perceptive oh. A he-really-went-through-with-asking kind of oh.
“You guys don’t kiss either,” Nicolas added. “All the other parents do.”
Ciana placed her hands on her hips. “I told you, not all parents are the same. Dad has all that extra stuff he does on the weekends. He probably just doesn’t want to wake Mom up when he comes home late.”
Her words were a knife slicing at my spine, crippling the strength I fooled myself into having. Realization was a bitter sting to the tip of my tongue. They had this discussion together before. Ciana was a wise girl. She was like me—older than her age. But it still sucked hearing it. Knowing she had to rationalize something that wasn’t normal.
That wasn’t right.
What kind of example were we?
Rehearsed lies marched forward, ready to take over. “Your father and I love each other very much.” Every one of those words burned like acid in my mouth. I didn’t want to lie to them. Didn’t want to keep secrets.
“But?”
I stood and moved to the sink, diving into the dishes. “But what?”
She stalked over to me, hip rested against the edge of the counter. Not willing to let it go. “That sounded like the kind of comment that opens up to something bad.”
Nicolas took to the other side of me, boxing me in. “Why, Mom? Why don’t you kiss Dad?”
A dish slipped out of my hands, clanging against the edges of the sink as my words tangled with one another. A slow building wave of frigid cold pressed over my skin.
I felt them waiting. Staring. Deserving the truth.
I turned, lips parted, the truth ready to cliff dive off my tongue, when I was shushed by Hank’s booming voice.
“Are you two giving your mom a hard time?” Hank sauntered into the kitchen, face ashen from concrete dust. Dirt clinging to the creases of his neck.
“Dad!” Nicolas leaped up to hug him while Ciana stood back, watching me, a question in her eyes.
I continued to wash dishes, keeping my hands busy.
“Ciana, did you do your homework?”
“Of course, Dad.” The attitude in her voice made me smile.
“And you?”
Nicolas gave a swift dip of his head as Hank ruffled his hair.
“You’re good kids, you know that? Your nonna used to whip my hide when she found out I skipped homework.”
“Really?” Nic followed Hank down the hallway.
As their voices trailed away, Ciana remained by the sink, still watching me. It left my skin warm and itchy. Like a spotlight shone against me.
“Are you happy, Mom?”
Shame stitched my eyebrows together. “What?”
She moved a little closer. “You are, aren’t you?”
The concern knitted through her words
made my stomach slosh. It begged me to say she was right. That it was the truth.
“Yes, baby.” I pulled from my reservoir of smiles and offered her one. “I am, though it isn’t something you should worry about.” When she opened her mouth, I cut her off with the only thing that would stop the questions. “How about you help me clean the kitchen?”
Her eyes widened, and then excuse after excuse spilled from her mouth as she backed out of the kitchen, heading for her room.
I grinned, though it was weak.
This was only the beginning.
Later that night while I sat at the vanity table in my room, rubbing lotion onto my elbows, a ping sounded on my laptop. The kids were in bed. Hank was in his room across the hall, most likely watching some investigative show.
The hallway was quiet. The lights out, save for the one on my nightstand. This was my second favorite part of the day—when the quiet set in and my thoughts could finally breathe. I had always been a night owl. Always came alive when the stars were out.
Setting the lotion down, I headed for my bed and rolled onto my stomach, clicking into my email.
A gasp escaped me as I devoured the message from Freedom’s Flight Women and Children’s Shelter. It was where I volunteered in my spare time. I often donated ice cream for the children and sometimes helped in the kitchen. Volunteering had become a passion. When the kids were with their friends and Hank was with his women, I was helping others like me find peace. Find safety.
Find happiness.
But now, they were closing.
I sat up, eyebrows pinched as I skimmed over the message.
Due to the lack of government funding and outside contributed donations, we regret to say that we will be closing our doors indefinitely. We want to thank every individual who has helped the many women who’ve passed through our doors. Without your donations, we wouldn’t have been able to keep them open for as long as we have.
Five Reasons To Go (The Risky Hearts Duet Book 2) Page 6