Finding Our Way Back (A Well Paired Novel)

by Rice, Marianne

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You were able to forgive Tristan and start a new relationship with him. That tells me you did move on.”

  “Did you know, Mom? Did you know all along it was my fault?” She could barely see her mother through her tears.

  “Sweetie.” She wiped Jenna’s face with a tissue. “It wouldn’t have mattered. What happened was an accident whether it was Tristan who jumped the light or you who ran it; no one meant for it to happen. It was a terrible, terrible tragedy, and no one is to blame. I know it makes it easier to cast the blame somewhere, be it at someone else or ourselves, but sometimes we have to accept that it just simply happened.”

  “Why didn’t he tell me?” she asked through her tears. “Why did he let me treat him like ... like...” She hiccupped, unable to formulate the words. It hurt too much, not only in her throat but in her heart as well.

  “Because he loves you.” Her mother stroked her hair, giving her comfort only a mother could. “That man would move the earth for you if he needed to. I’ve never seen such selfless love as I’ve seen in the two of you.”

  “Two?” Her lip trembled. “I’ve been completely selfish. And foolish. And cruel.”

  “No, honey.” She pulled Jenna into a warm hug. “Like Tristan, you don’t have a cruel bone in your body. You were acting out of love and loss, and we all understood that.”

  “So you knew?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  Jenna drew away and wiped her own tears. “What do you mean by that?”

  Her mother handed her the box of tissues before sitting back. “There were some discrepancies in the police report. The officer was a friend of your father’s and told him a witness’ report was slightly different from Tristan’s. Since he was taking responsibility for the accident, they didn’t prod him any further. It was ruled a terrible tragedy.”

  “Why did you let me push him away?”

  “Let you?” Her mother laughed. “Sweetie, you’re as sweet as an angel, but you’re stubborn as a mule. It’s one of the hardest things a mother has to do, watching her daughter make her own decisions even if you don’t entirely agree with them.”

  “Did you talk to Tristan about it? About what you knew or thought you knew?”

  “Yes. He was adamant it was his fault, and he warned us not to push the topic any further.”

  “Warned?” She couldn’t imagine Tristan threatening her parents.

  “He was concerned about you. As we all were. You took the loss quite hard, as any mother would. I’m sure he feared if you’d thought yourself responsible, well, you were in an extremely fragile state.”

  Fragile was an understatement. She’d thought about ending her life.

  “How long are you on babysitting duty?”

  Her mother averted her gaze and adjusted her glasses. “I’d love to visit with you as long as you’ll have me.”

  “Tristan thinks I’ll ... hurt myself, doesn’t he?”

  “Sweetie.” She covered Jenna’s hands with her own. “You have many people who care about you. Who loves you and will do anything for you.”

  “Including giving me my space?”

  “If we think that’s what’s best.”

  “What do you think is best for me, Mom?” She wadded up her tissues and tossed them on the coffee table.

  This was the million dollar question. Was it better for her to stay away from anyone who reminded her of the worst tragedy in her life and start a life with someone new? That was why she moved to Crystal Cove.

  That was the direction she had been moving with Carter.

  Or was it better to be with the man she loved even though it was more likely the past would creep up on her more frequently?

  Who did she want by her side when it happened?

  There was no doubt in her mind she wanted to be with Tristan. Her love for him was real, but now she doubted his love for her. How could he love her after all she put him through?

  “Those wheels are spinning. You never were good at hiding your emotions. Your eyes shift from blue to green and somewhere in between when you’re deep in thought.”

  “I’m always deep in thought.”

  “Which is a good thing. Tell me why they went from hopeful to worried in a matter of seconds.”

  “Do you think Tristan can ever truly forgive me for all that I’ve done to him?”

  Her mother cupped her face in a similar way Tristan did. Love and affection poured from both of them so easily. Too easily.

  “Sweetie, you’re the only one who thinks there’s something to forgive. Follow your heart. Your heart is never wrong.”

  The footsteps on the steps and a knock on the door meant more visitors. More talking when what Jenna really needed was processing time.

  “Alexis gave me a deal if I ordered a case. Ten percent off. So I got six whites and six reds,” her father said proudly as he closed the door behind him.

  “That’s wonderful.” Her mother got up and squeezed Jenna’s hand. “We’re only a phone call away. I love you.”

  After hugs from both parents, they left.

  This was what Jenna wanted. The home to herself so she could wallow. Quiet. No more peopling.

  Any minute she expected Tristan to race down the driveway to make sure she was okay. Her knight in shining armor.

  When twenty minutes dragged on and she found herself still alone, she changed into her pottery clothes and went to work in the barn.

  She worked long uninterrupted hours, only stopping to charge her phone and get a drink of water from the mini-fridge next to her supplies. When she had completed more pieces than her kiln could hold, she stood and stretched.

  After washing up, she turned off the lights and entered her dark house. She had no concept of time. It was a luxury she basked in, working when inspiration hit. Who knew when her creative mojo would come back again.

  Maybe tomorrow she’d shop for more canvases and start painting again. Fumbling around for the kitchen light, she fully expected Tristan to be there, watching her from the shadows.

  He wasn’t. He wasn’t in the living room or Jerry’s room or hers either.

  Once again he’d respected her wishes. She’d pushed him away on her parents’ front doorstep years ago, telling him to never show his face again, and he didn’t.

  The last thing she remembered saying to him was to stop hovering. And once again he’d taken her literally and walked out of her life. It was all her fault. Everything was.

  Sadness swept over her as she stripped her clothes and put on a robe. While showering, she waited for Tristan to pull back the curtain and surprise her as he’d done last week.

  He didn’t.

  She turned off the shower and wrapped one towel around her body and another around her hair. There was no Tristan waiting on her bed either.

  It was nearly midnight. He’d be home or on his way home from work. She checked her cell phone.

  No messages from him. There were two from Mia, one from Grace, and four from Alexis. They all said the same thing.

  Miss you.

  Can we get together soon?

  You too busing snogging your BF you can’t make book club?

  Leave it to Mia to bring a chuckle to her sore throat. She’d cried so much the past few days it had left her throat red and raw.

  Instead of replying individually, she made a group chat. They were her friends. Her support system. It wasn’t like Jenna was healed; she’d always feel the grief and guilt, but it had helped her to talk with her friends the last time. Maybe opening up to them again would bring her a sense of healing.

  Sorry I’ve been MIA. Can we all get together soon? I could use some friends.

  Mia replied immediately.

  I’m up and sober. Want me to pick everyone up?

  Jenna smiled.

  Not tonight. Soon, though.

  Grace replied next.

  You know I hate mornings, but I’m willing to sacrifice some beauty sleep
for you. Breakfast at your place in the morning. I’ll bring mimosas. Last person there is the DD.

  Grace and her beauty sleep. The fact that she’d give it up to be at Jenna’s beck and call warmed her heart.

  I can be DD. You girls are doing me a favor by getting up early. See you in the am.

  Jenna didn’t want to drink so early in the morning anyway. Being the designated driver was never a problem for her.

  Needing a few hours of rest to prepare for what promised to be an emotional morning, she fell into bed still wrapped in her two towels, anxious to start a new day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Your mom is right.” Grace topped off Jenna’s mimosa. “There’s nothing to forgive. You survived a horrific accident and have suffered enough. It’s time to let love back into your heart.”

  “Wow. I never thought I’d hear my sister be so deep. She’s right, though.” Alexis spread a layer of cream cheese on her bagel before biting into it.

  They’d all shown up bright and early with Lily arriving last at eight-fifteen. She had to reschedule her nine o’clock massage patient. They each brought food: fruit, bagels, muffins, and of course, Grace with the mimosas.

  “Seems like forgiveness has been a common thread amongst us.” Hope poured herself another glass of orange juice. “I didn’t have all the facts about Cameron and hated what I thought to be him and his actions for twelve years. It definitely changed my outlook on life. I thank God every day that he came back into my life a few years ago and set the record straight.”

  “Tristan reminds me of Cameron,” Mia said. “Besides both being incredibly hot, they’re really sweet. I never saw any animosity in Cam toward Hope for believing him to be a murderer, and from the few interactions I’ve had with Tristan, he seems to be nothing less than the ball to your chain.”

  “So romantic.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Jenna, we can’t tell you what to do or how to feel, but we all agree on this. Anna’s death was not your fault. You were trying to get to the hospital so she’d be delivered safely.”

  “But Tristan.”

  “You said Tristan insisted on taking the blame.” Alexis set her bagel down and folded her hands in front of her, resting them on the table. “It takes a strong man and a whole lot of love to do what he did. He sacrificed himself for you. And it doesn’t sound like he regrets it. I tried not liking him, for your sake. But Mia’s right.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Tristan loves you. There’s no denying that. If you love him with even a fraction of the intense vibes that come off him, I’d say you have a pretty solid chance at a happy future.”

  “I second that.”

  Jenna spun around and covered her mouth with her hands. Tristan stood in the kitchen doorway, one shoulder propped up against the jamb.

  “And that’s our cue to leave.”

  Chairs scraped across the linoleum, and dishes clattered behind her, but Jenna’s attention was fixated on Tristan. He had a layer of scruff on his face, and his shirt was wrinkled as if he’d slept in it or pulled it out of a pile on his floor. Either way, he was beautiful.

  Those hazel eyes of his didn’t leave her face as the girls made a commotion around them picking up the mess. There were soft good-byes as they gave her quick hugs and brushed past Tristan.

  “I thought Cam had the smooth moves with his killer eyes and quiet ways, but I’m thinking you just one-upped him. Self-sacrifice is sexy as hell. Take care of our girl here. And if you have a friend looking for a good time ...” Mia patted his bicep and left.

  The door closed behind her, and all was quiet, sans the beating of her heart.

  “Hey,” he said, not budging from the door.

  “Hey,” she echoed, still sitting at the kitchen table. His face was unreadable. The half-grin that came so easy wasn’t there, nor was the twinkle in his eye. Serious. Intense. Insecure. She recognized it from the mirror. “Um, do you want breakfast? There’s plenty of food.”

  His head moved from left to right in a slow shake.

  “Okay.” Gradually, she stood, closing up the box on the Danishes and putting the uneaten bagels back in the paper bag.

  “Your friends are right.” Still, he didn’t move. “My love for you is intense. Crazy intense.”

  “Why? I’ve been nothing but heartless to you since the accident. I don’t deserve your love.”

  “I’d do anything for you, Jenna. Anything.”

  Keeping the bagels in her hands as a distraction, she faced him. “Including lying on a police report?”

  “To protect you? Yes.”

  “Lying to me and my family?” Tristan didn’t respond. “You ended our marriage because I asked you to.”

  “Not because I wanted to. It’s one of the many regrets I have in life.”

  “Many? Are there more skeletons in your closet?” She tried to laugh off her question with some humor, not sure if she was ready for the emotion pouring off them.

  “I regret not fighting harder.” He moved closer to her. “I regret forgetting to turn the volume back on my cell phone after my mother’s dentist appointment. I regret not looking both ways before flooring it into that left-hand turn toward the hospital.”

  Tristan took the bagels from her and set them on the table and cupped her face in his hands.

  “I regret not being able to save Anna’s life.” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “I regret not being enough for you after we lost her.”

  Tears welled up behind her eyelids, and her throat constricted. Her mouth went dry and her muscles weak, and all she wanted was to be held by this innocent, beautiful man and give him the love he deserved.

  “I’m sorry,” she choked.

  “No. None of that, remember?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t show you how much I loved you. I couldn’t think beyond my own grief.”

  He wiped the tears with the pads of his thumbs and gently massaged her neck with his fingers.

  “I had hoped my love would be strong enough to get us both through. I regret it not being enough.”

  She swayed as her head went light and dizzy with emotion. Needing him closer, she gripped on to his waist and held on tight, vowing to never let go. For the first time, she was able to see through his eyes the grief and guilt he felt. She wasn’t the only one who’d suffered an emotional loss.

  Remembering what her mother had said yesterday, she offered Tristan the same comfort. “We can’t live our lives with regrets and what-ifs. We can only live in the now and use those experiences to help us make better choices in the future.”

  “I like that.” He lowered his head closer to hers but didn’t bring his lips to hers as she’d hoped. “I like that a lot. Future.”

  “I do too,” she whispered, closing her eyes and lifting her mouth to his.

  Their kiss was one of promises and forgiveness. Not only with each other for how they handled the tragedy, but forgiving themselves.

  Their kiss grew deeper and deeper until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. Never breaking the kiss, Tristan scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom.

  They took their time undressing each other and making new discoveries of each other’s bodies. There was no rush when she knew she had the rest of her life with him.

  There would be bouts of sadness that she’d have to get through. And Tristan would have them as well. As long as they had each other, they could support each other and get through it together.

  The morning sun poured through her bedroom window, illuminating them as they made love. It was slow and sensual, and she never wanted it to end. Sometime later, after they’d explored, and kissed, and loved, she fell asleep in his arms with a newfound hopefulness and lightness in her heart.

  “I THINK SEPARATING was the best thing for us.”

  “How can you say that? Didn’t you miss us?” Jenna escaped from her spoon position against Tristan’s back and rolled over to face him.

  “Every damned day. But
if we’d stayed together, I’m not sure if we would have been able to heal on our own. Being apart has made me love you even more.”

  “You’re not going with the absence makes the heart grow fonder cliché?”

  “I guess I am. Or the old adage you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. However, I knew exactly what I had. But losing you makes me appreciate you even more.”

  “We were so young.”

  “Exactly why we needed that time apart. Let’s not do that again, though, okay? We were kids when we were together. I like the adult version of us even better. Scars and all.”

  “You do realize I’ll need my space sometimes. You can’t be stuck to my side twenty-four-seven.”

  “It’s not just your side I want to be stuck to.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes and poked his chest. “I like to work alone in the barn.”

  “I can’t even watch?”

  “No.” Tristan pouted his lower lip. “Fine. Sometimes.”

  “Can we role play that scene from Ghost?”

  “Another cliché`. Being covered in clay is not sexy.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “You think everything is sexy.”

  “Everything that includes you.”

  “Laying it on pretty thick, Mr. Ketch. Give me something to complain about or my friends are going to hate me for having a Mr. Perfect.”

  “I plan on irritating you a lot.”

  “Really? How so?”

  Tristan rolled her to her back, pinning her between him and the mattress. “I’m totally going to stalk you while you’re working. It’s freaking sexy watching you work.”

  “I’m buying new locks for the barn,” she teased.

  “Still can’t keep me away.”

  “Stalker.” She knew he was teasing, and he’d respect her need to concentrate, but it was fun playing with him.

  “I also imagine you covered in paint. Maybe a little drip down here.” He trailed his finger down her neck and rested it in between her breasts. “And ... oops, a little splatter of pink over here.” He brushed his finger across her nipple.