One Forever Kiss (Affair Without End Book 4)

by Susan Ward

  I went out and joined the guys by the pool, and stayed up most of the night keeping watch, which was stupid because Chrissie got home around 2:00 a.m. and Alan Manzone hadn’t been seen since I left for the concert. But then, parenting made you paranoid at times. Even when it shouldn’t.

  It was all quiet.

  All good.

  Once the last of the guys called it a night and went to his room, I went to bed. The next morning, I sent Chrissie and Rene off to New York. A few hours later, Alan left Hope Ranch.

  I realigned my priorities and thoughts—a process I was expert at after nine years with Linda while trying to keep balance with Chrissie—and decided it was time to track down my woman.

  Almost three weeks later I still couldn’t reach her.

  That instinct thing was twisting my gut nonstop.

  I was never unable to reach Linda.

  And there was something off—well, more off than usual—when I spoke with Chrissie by phone.

  Something was wrong.

  I was positive, could feel it, even before I opened the paper and saw a picture of Chrissie with Alan, holding each other, sitting on the terrace of what I could only assume was his New York apartment.

  Jesus Christ, how the fuck had this happened?

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  On the flight from California to New York it was all I could do to keep myself together.

  Each moment of my life spun out of control inside me. The past, the present, my flaws, my son’s death, Lena and Linda, and Chrissie.

  My daughter—my sweet, naïve, somewhat ethereal, borderline nerdy daughter—was running wild through Manhattan with an only mildly in control former heroin addict, who six months earlier tried to kill himself.

  Unimaginable father panic—beyond and more consuming than anything I’d ever lived before. And, fuck, I’d been through a lot. Only this one blindsided me—not just the guy—but because I thought things between Chrissie and me were good.

  Clearly they were not.

  Girls didn’t hook up with troubled older guys, not if their fathers were doing their job. That was the worst part of it for me. Replaying each carefully articulated word Linda had spoken through the years as to why it wasn’t time for her to marry me. Realizing that Linda from afar could see and read the warning signs in Chrissie better than I could being with her.

  The mounting suspicion that Linda was with them only made it more heart wrenching.

  Both parts of Jack—Jack who loved Linda, and Jack who loved Chrissie—were being held hostage by the nightmare that was Alan.

  I went to my apartment in Manhattan.

  There were signs they’d been there, but no Chrissie.

  I made the trek around the New York hot spots.

  Called everyone I could think of.

  Nothing.

  I went to Linda’s apartment, let myself in with the key she’d given me, found it vacant, and resolved to wait there.

  Chrissie and Alan were somewhere.

  Linda would know where the fuck they were.

  I passed two miserable days in the Rowans’ apartment before I heard the front door open.

  I hung up the phone in mid-call and sprang across the room, grabbing hold of Linda just as she stepped out of the foyer.

  “Where the hell are they? I can’t believe you didn’t call me, Linda. Where is Chrissie?”

  Linda’s eyes flew wide as her face turned scarlet.

  “Where is Chrissie?” I repeated, my fingers tightening on her arms.

  “She’s on her way back to the city with Alan. I think they’ll probably go to his place.”

  Oh fuck.

  “Damn you, Linda.”

  I was almost out the door when she darted around me, flattening herself between the wood and me.

  “I’m sorry.” She sobbed, her darks eyes fixed on my face. “You have to believe me, I wouldn’t have let this happen if I’d known Chrissie was your Chrissie. It never occurred to me when I first met her that she was your Chrissie. I thought your daughter was in school in California. Then later, after I realized it, it was too late. Things were moving so quickly with Alan I could hardly keep up and watch over her. I did—”

  “Jesus Christ, don’t pretend you didn’t know. How could you not know she was my daughter? How could you let this happen, Linda?”

  “I didn’t know! And I didn’t let it happen. I know you’re worried, but it’s not fair to blame me for this.”

  I stepped back from her, my body trembling with fury, though I knew she was telling me the truth.

  “I haven’t seen even a picture of her in more than nine years,” she continued sadly. “I love her like she’s my own daughter, Jack. Even though I hadn’t met her before two weeks ago, she’s as much a part of my life as you are. You have to believe—”

  “But she’s not your daughter, Linda. You made sure of that and now I’m glad that you did.”

  Her eyes flew wide.

  Oh fuck.

  “Jack.” One word, heartbroken, on nearly all breath.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know you’ve done a lot helping me with her. It’s just—”

  I couldn’t finish.

  Not with the way she was staring at me.

  Oh Christ, what was I doing fighting with Linda now that I knew where my daughter was?

  “I need to go, Linda. Please, move from the door.”

  She sniffed back her tears, brushed the wetness from her face, and lifted her chin. “Nope, not letting you go until I’ve said what I need to say. There’s a lot going on with your girl, Jack, that isn’t good. Stuff beyond Alan, and you need to calm down before you see her. If you pounce on her the way you did me, you’re going to lose her. She’s young and in love with Alan. Pull too hard, she’s going to pull away, and she’s not ready to be with him and not with you yet.”

  “Jesus Christ, Linda, she’s eighteen. Last month some kid named Brad was her boyfriend. Next month it will be someone else.”

  She sucked in her lower lip, shaking her head at me. “This is different. And like I said, there’s a lot going on with Chrissie. I won’t let you out of this door until you promise me you won’t go off on her the way you did me.”

  That made me feel like a bastard.

  Worse, it put me on edge even more than I already was, like Linda knew things she wasn’t sharing with me. Jesus Christ, what more could there be to know?

  “I’ll take it slow, Linda. I won’t yell at her. But I’m finding my daughter and hauling her ass home. Will you let me out of your apartment now?”

  She shook her head at me, disappointed and worried, and seemed to debate with herself, then she stepped aside.

  I hurried out of the building and practically ran the four blocks to Alan’s apartment. I was stopped by building security and they had to phone up for me, and I was thinking of ways to bypass security when Alan gave permission for the doorman show me up.

  After all I’d done for him, his nerve. His gall.

  Each floor I struggled to hold back my mounting emotions. The second I stepped into the apartment and saw him calmly waiting for me, there was nothing I could do.

  Everything inside me rushed to the surface and I exploded in a torrent of angry words as Alan sat, the rational one in the room, and listened.

  I could barely catch hold of my thoughts as they streamed out of my mouth too quickly. Not a single word I said was of any importance to Alan, almost like something insulated him from my tirade and accusations, to the point where nothing rattled him.

  Not even when Chrissie raced onto the terrace to stop my yelling—wearing only his shirt, which was like a match to accelerant for me.

  I was ready to explode into new levels, but then Linda’s voice inside my head chided If you pounce on her the way you did me, you’re going to lose her.

  And when I looked into Chrissie’s eyes and realized what I saw there, Lena’s voice revived as well. She’s a fearful girl. Show her she has nothing t
o be afraid of.

  Chrissie’s tear-filled gaze doused my anger and replaced it with dread. At that point, the only words of any importance were hers.

  If emotional shock could kill you, I would have died right then. I learned three horrifying truths I hadn’t known.

  First, Chrissie had been in the room the night her brother had overdosed. At the age of eight she had watched him die, and she blamed herself for Sammy’s death.

  Second, she was an addict. Not drugs, though, but self-mutilation. She burned her own flesh to block out the pain.

  Third, my daughter thought I hated her and blamed her for her brother’s death.

  Not your average paternal wake-up call, and worse, her being with Alan wasn’t his fault, it was mine. Whatever she had needed to get this out of her and finally tell me, she had gotten from him and not me.

  That was made clear as Chrissie and I sat on the terrace talking through the dawn. She was different with me. Stronger. More composed. Less confusing.

  Christ, she even told me we weren’t going home until we boxed up Lena’s things in the apartment together.

  As much as I hated it, she wanted one more day with him before I dragged her home, and because I was so relieved things were calm between us and she was coming home, I let her stay the night with him.

  Probably a wrong move, another gigantic Jack parenting mistake, but I left her with him.

  In the car on the way back to my apartment, I stared out the window, unmindful of the sunny day and the crowded pavements, each word of the night replaying in my head.

  I never wanted to see Alan Manzone again. Not because he’d seduced my daughter or because he was a train wreck just waiting to happen, but because he helped the person I loved the most and could see things in Chrissie I couldn’t see. They both seemed to see things in each other I couldn’t see, and hell, Alan was only twenty-six and Chrissie eighteen.

  Linda was right. What had happened between Alan and my daughter was something very different, and if I’d pulled too hard on Chrissie, she would have broken away and I would have lost her.

  Linda, yet again, had kept me from making the wrong move with Chrissie.

  I felt depleted, awful, and remorseful when I reached my apartment, and kicked myself more as I unlocked the front door because it wouldn’t have surprised me if that ugly scene at Linda’s apartment hadn’t cost me her forever.

  I’d been horrible to her.

  Unwantingly cruel.

  I had much to apologize for.

  And much I regretted.

  Now calm, I knew that being with the two wayward lovers, trying to hold shit from exploding the way Linda did, had taken her on a wild emotional journey as well.

  Fuck, for the past nine years from behind the scenes that woman had helped me raise Chrissie.

  If Linda walked out on me, I wouldn’t blame her.

  Not after the things I’d said.

  I stepped into my living room and froze.

  Linda stood up and said, “I thought you might need a friend when you got back here.”

  Gorgeous brown eyes.

  Loving.

  Generous.

  Waiting for me.

  The tears only loosely contained since last night were like acid in my eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here. Not after how I treated you, baby.”

  She walked across the room to me. “Where else would I be? You’re here. And I love you. You are a wonderful man. Wonderful father. You were worried. I knew I wasn’t the one you were angry at when you got upset with me. I was worried, too, and I’m really glad you’re here.”

  She surrounded me with her arms and the lump in my throat was painful. Her fingers fluttered in my hair as she lightly kissed me.

  “It’s going to be all right, Jack.”

  “I’m sorry I went off on you. The things I said. I’m sorry about everything, Linda.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I told you I understand. Sometimes it during the Chrissie moments that I love you the most.”

  Chrissie moments—Linda in epic understatement.

  I moved in her arms only enough to look at her. “You know everything, don’t you?”

  She nodded, her mouth tightening in sympathy. “I know Chrissie burns herself, and about her being in the room with her brother when he died, and about her thinking you hate her. I told you things were moving fast and I could barely keep up.”

  She dropped one more kiss on my lips, took my hand, and guided me into the room.

  We sat on a couch, holding onto each other.

  “I also know you helped Alan. I admit I was angry when I found out because you hadn’t told me. But I understand why you didn’t, just like you’re going to need to understand why I didn’t call you when I finally figured out Alan’s Chrissie was your daughter.”

  Alan’s Chrissie—that one made me flinch.

  No fucking way.

  Not ever.

  I turned enough to face her. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair as though trying to figure out how to explain it. “I got dropped into the middle of what was going on with them unexpectedly. It knocked me off my feet for a while. I could sense something was going on with her, but I didn’t know what, and then”—she made a face—“when I did, I realized for a little while her being with a woman might be better than with a man. Complex girl issues. Tough even for me.”

  I laughed through my tears. “Nothing is tough for you.”

  Her head tilted and her eyebrows shot up. “You’re tough for me. Though I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

  Her dazzling smile brought more lightness to my mood.

  Then I remembered where I left Chrissie.

  I leaned my head back on the couch and groaned. “Fuck, I can’t believe my daughter is spending the night with Alan Manzone and I let her.”

  Linda curled into my side. “You didn’t let her. She’s eighteen. She can do what she wants. It was the smart move. She’s going back to California with you, isn’t she?”

  “Yep. Tomorrow.” I sighed again. “After Chrissie helps me box up Lena’s clothes and stuff here. She thinks it’s time to put her mom’s things away”—I started to cry again—“and she wants to do the Santa Barbara house when we get home. That’s what she said. I haven’t even had time to process that one yet.”

  “Aha,” was all Linda replied.

  I looked up at her. “What does aha mean?”

  “That your daughter is a smart girl, even as fucked up as everything has gotten of late, and she’s going to be fine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because boxing up Lena’s things is about her taking care of you. Telling you to move on so she can move on with her life.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  She shrugged and looked away.

  That definitely meant something.

  I turned her back toward me, and I could see it on her face. “You think Lena’s things are still everywhere because I can’t let go. That isn’t true, Linda. I kept things as they were so Chrissie would feel her mother in the house still. I moved on when I met you.”

  Those soulful eyes squared with mine. “No, Jack. You kept everything exactly as it was because you wanted to still feel Lena. Why do you think I never stay with you in Santa Barbara or this apartment, why we always see each other somewhere else? Every time I’m in a home of yours it feels like I’m invading another woman’s territory.”

  “You’re not,” I told her, pulling her tightly against me. “You’re the woman in my life, Linda. What do I have to do to get you to understand that?”

  She pressed her cheek against my chest. “Meeting Chrissie was a good start. But I’m not sure if any of us is ready for more. Not yet.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Six years later, Linda still thought we weren’t ready to be more than an affair, but I’d given up on the idea of what I thought we should be and I’d definite
ly given up on the idea of trying to change her.

  Only a foolish man would try to change a miraculous woman. Linda effortlessly managed a life four people couldn’t do—a demanding career hopping the globe with Blackpoll; holding that complex assortment of brilliant musicians, which included Alan Manzone, together; a husband/friend who really needed a strong, loyal woman to keep him on track and from self-destructing—and hell, she managed me, too.

  Yes, it bothered me she was still married to Len Rowan after fifteen years. But Linda was an unconventional woman—I’d known that from the day I met her—in her center uncomplicatedly practical, and this was how her life worked. Loyalty and love walked hand in hand, unbreakable, with who Linda was.

  She loved Len like family, she wouldn’t walk out on him as long as he needed her, and I could take it or leave, so I took it.

  Unconventional—yes.

  Did Len Rowan know about us? From the start, Linda was an inherently honest woman.

  Did anyone else in our lives know about us? Somehow they didn’t. We were the best kept secret in the music industry.

  Was our relationship everything I wanted? No.

  But age teaches you things you can’t see when you are young. It didn’t matter if my life was exactly how I thought it should be or hoped it would be or even made sense to anyone else. My life was good, we were happy, and I’d take that over everything else any day of the week.

  No man had everything he wanted. The man who usually tried ended with nothing, a lesson I’d learned in spades with Lena before I found the wisdom of focusing on only loving, and I had enough with Linda how we were.

  I’d also take looking up from the beach to find her standing on the cliffs, having blown in from somewhere without warning, over waking up every morning to face a woman I could never hope to love the way I did Linda.

  Christ, sixteen years and she still got my blood pumping.

  It was a bright September morning as I trotted up the stairs built into the cliffs after being surprised when I looked up from my board in the water to find my favorite sight. I didn’t know where Linda came from this time. I didn’t even know she was coming.