by JB Schroeder
His posture had gone rigid despite the fact that he still sat far back on the couch. “I didn’t accept it,” he said. “I wouldn’t do that.”
She opened her mouth but didn’t find any words.
Jake scooted forward until his knees nearly touched hers. “Why did you think that?”
She gulped hard. “It’s a very you thing to do.”
He flinched, and Sadie could tell she’d hurt him.
“I’m staying,” he said slowly and deliberately, like it was the only way to get it through her thick skull. “I told you that from the beginning.”
Jake got up and left the room. Sadie sat struggling to shift her mindset around this news. It was the opposite of what she had expected. She’d been dead wrong. This was what she had wished—and yet feared.
Jake came out of the bedroom in running clothes and said he was going out. The snick of the shutting door might as well have been a bang for all that it made her shrink.
Sadie stewed for quite a while, and then finally forced herself to study for her last finals. No matter what else happened, she had to finish school—with good scores—and get her degree.
Later that afternoon, as if to prove he’d meant what he’d said about staying, Jake called the realtor and put in an offer on the Lawrenceville house. He didn’t say much—but Sadie could tell that he wasn’t quite as excited as he’d been. Her lack of faith in him had cut deep.
They walked over to Nicky’s Thai Kitchen on Western Avenue for dinner. Normally one of her favorites, tonight everything tasted flat—much like her mood. Once they’d returned home for the evening, Jake read through the paperwork from the realtor and had a conversation with both the attorney he’d used in New York and one his mom had recommended that was better versed in local real estate.
Sadie put her head in her books once more, although her concentration was for crap. She found herself snapping the lid of a highlighter on and off, on and off, and forced herself to put it aside. She read the same page of notes twice and didn’t register a word. Then she shoved a pen in her hair, only to realize there were three there already. She sighed. At least she hadn’t dragged out the Oreos. She stole another glance at Jake.
For an afternoon off and evening spent together, it kinda sucked. They got along. They weren’t fighting or silent. It wasn’t quite what Sadie would call tense, or even awkward, but she didn’t feel right or easy. And Jake didn’t seem himself either. Basically, it was the first time that they hadn’t been in sync—and she didn’t care for it one bit.
Jake eventually turned on the TV in the bedroom, and Sadie joined him, snuggling up under his arm. When the show ended, Sadie turned to him and kissed his ear, his neck, his jaw, his lips, sorrowfully and sweetly. A gentle apology that she hoped would ease the hurt she’d caused, but that they both bore. Jake turned to her, and they made slow, tender love.
Sadie did her best to turn off her anxious mind and worried heart, and just feel.
18
By Wednesday, Sadie felt she and Jake were on solid footing again. He was as attentive as ever, while she tried to give as good as she got, and somehow the strain from the weekend eased away. She managed to largely sidestep her worry with the routine of a regular week—at least if she could keep from looking at the beautiful wedding band on her finger.
Midday, Jake got word that his offer on the Lawrenceville house had been accepted. So, at the beginning of their shift at The Wanderlust, they mixed up a flourless chocolate cake, licking batter off each other’s fingers. After closing, they shared it with the rest of the staff in a mini-celebration. Regardless of their murky future, Sadie was happy for him, and made sure she showed it with a big grin and a special toast.
For his ears only, she whispered, “We’ll christen it the first chance we get.”
“I’m holding you to that.” Jake winked, then kissed the spot on her neck that always made her squirm.
In only a few days, they’d be celebrating Mother’s Day. Sadie recalled that Chuck had always made a big deal of it, insisting on a fancy restaurant for dinner, where Rita could try something new and be served rather than serving. He’d always let the rest of the non-Mom staff run the show at The Wanderlust, and he and the boys had taken Rita to Mount Washington or downtown, or even a gem he’d heard about in the suburbs.
Rita insisted that this year she just wanted Jake to cook something light and have an impromptu meal late afternoon or early evening at the diner.
“It’s time to make some new traditions,” she said.
Sadie knew Rita just wanted to keep busy and not dwell on the fact that it was the first holiday without Chuck. She also knew that Mother’s Day meant the diner would be really slow Sunday evening, but that they’d have a jam-packed morning—right up until about two o’clock.
Sure enough, that was how it ended up. When the place emptied out, Jake called his brothers and grilled some chicken to add to a Greek salad, and Sadie plated the pastries she and Jake had gotten from Rita’s favorite Italian market down the street.
Jonah showed up with flowers and a kiss for his mom, and Jeremy with a card that he told her she couldn’t open until later.
Jake looked around the small group. “Gifts first? Then we eat.”
Assent all around. Except for Rita, who narrowed her eyes. “What have you kids cooked up?”
Sadie smiled. The woman knew when her boys were up to something, that was for sure.
Jake handed her a gift bag, and Rita set it on one of the tables. She pulled tissue out of the top, then a glossy folder. Sadie knew it held an itinerary and numerous brochures and a printout of the first set of plane tickets. Others were yet to be purchased depending on Rita’s preferences.
Rita scanned the items trying to make sense of it all, then looked up, eyes wide. “What in the world?”
They all laughed.
“That’s exactly it, Mom,” Jake said. “We wanted to give you the world. All—or most, anyway—of the places you’ve always talked about going.”
Rita put her hand over her chest. “That’s so thoughtful. Amazing. But…”
Sadie, of all people, knew how scary leaving home could feel. She said, “Reenie is going with you.”
“And Sadie and I will be here taking care of The Wanderlust,” Jake said. “Even Jonah has agreed to pitch in if we need him.”
That drew a laugh from everyone, as Jonah really was near to hopeless when it came to the diner.
“Here, Mom,” Jeremy said. She opened his card and found a gift certificate to a travel store. “I thought you could use some new luggage.”
Sadie gifted her with a passport wallet that hung around her neck and could be tucked under a shirt or jacket for safety. And Jonah pulled a gift card—no wrapping—from his back pocket. “For travel books.”
“This is all too much,” Rita said.
“It’s not, Mom,” Jake assured her. “Like you said, it’s time for something new.”
Rita drew a deep breath, and Sadie could tell she was trying not to cry.
“Let’s eat,” Jake said, “and we’ll tell you all the details.”
Jake’s excitement carried over, and he talked the whole car ride home about his mom’s trip, the new house, and even his plans for some menu updates at the diner. Much as she loved her LED bike lights, once Jake had wheels, they usually drove, which was fine, because she enjoyed the extra time with him.
When they entered their apartment—she’d stopped thinking of it as hers weeks ago—Jake switched gears.
“I know we did the low-key wedding thing,” he said, “but I was thinking we should honeymoon before my mom leaves. It’ll have to be a quick trip for now. I was thinking about True Springs—that place I had the team event? It’d be very romantic for a couple.”
Sadie stopped cold. Every day, practically every minute, Jake surprised her. It wasn’t like she’d dated a bunch of rotten men—but somehow Jake had a knack for fulfilling every secret hope in her heart. A simple, romantic
honeymoon.
He was busy depositing his keys on the counter and unloading some food that Rita had sent home with them into the fridge. He hadn’t looked at her yet.
“Or you choose,” Jake said, still facing away from her. “Where do you want to go? I like the guy who did my mom’s package. We could just tell him where and let him handle the details.”
Finally, he turned.
Sadie’s eyes had welled with tears so fast that she couldn’t hide it.
“Hey now,” Jake said coming in close to rub his hands up and down her arms, “what’s wrong?”
“Thank you,” she managed. “I just didn’t expect we’d go anywhere.” She waved a hand. “Happy tears. Nothing’s wrong.”
Except it was. Terribly, horribly, awfully wrong.
She didn’t want to go anywhere. Everything she wanted was right here—and so perfect that she wanted to weep with joy.
Which meant that everything was wrong. Because she would be leaving.
Not Jake. Her.
She pulled away from Jake. “I have to go shower. I stink.”
Sometimes Jake joined her in the shower, or she him. This time, Sadie locked the door. Because right now, this minute? She needed to be alone. She needed to fill the tub to the rim with ugly tears and then stay under the water long enough to erase the evidence.
She blasted the water and stripped, leaving her clothes in a heap. Then she stepped under the showerhead, yanked the curtain closed, and sobbed her heart out. It wasn’t a hairwashing night, and she’d completely forgotten her shower cap. She didn’t even care.
Jake hadn’t left.
He’d married her.
He’d bought them a home.
And worst of all? This evening she’d overheard a conversation between Jake and Rita that could only mean one thing. They’d spoken to the Walkers’ attorney about making Jake half owner of The Wanderlust.
Only the other half wasn’t to be Rita, but Sadie.
Her. Sadie. The same woman who had committed to two whole years on the other side of the world and still hadn’t had the guts to tell Jake.
No two ways about it now. She had to tell him.
Tomorrow or bust.
Because the wedding was part of their deal. The house he could live in alone or—God help her—with some other woman eventually.
But The Wanderlust? No. Just no. She couldn’t let him do it. It was Rita’s and Chuck’s. Jake’s. Jeremy and Jonah’s. But not Sadie’s. Not with an enormous lie between them that would ruin any chance she had had at a real future with Jake.
Sadie clutched her stomach and then grabbed a towel and scrambled out of the shower. She made it to the toilet just in time. Then she cleaned her mouth, looked at her sad, sorry face in the mirror and sopping hair, and climbed back in the shower to cry some more. If only she could wash away her regrets.
19
Jake was waiting for Sadie to come home from the museum Thursday afternoon when the doorbell rang. He was thrown for a second—had she forgotten her key?
The building didn’t have an intercom, so he jogged down the stairs to the first floor.
It wasn’t Sadie, it was her friend Lilian. No mistaking that bright red hair. The stoop was narrow, so she moved back onto the stairs to make room for him.
“Hi,” he said. “Sadie must be running late. She’s not here.”
“No worries,” Lilian said. “I just came to drop off my backpack.” She slid a big, but empty, pack off her shoulder and set it at his feet.
Sadie hadn’t mentioned Lilian stopping by, and it was a serious backpack—for major hiking or camping or traveling the country. Jake cocked his head. “Are we storing it for you?”
Lilian laughed. “No, it’s for her trip, so she doesn’t have to buy one herself. The good ones don’t come cheap.”
Jake had a sinking feeling, but he asked despite a very strong urge not to know. “Which trip is this?”
“The one to Gumi, silly. She should have weekends off and be able to travel.”
Jake swallowed hard. The backpack, the language book, the secrets behind her eyes—just what in the hell hadn’t Sadie told him?
Just then, Sadie slid to a stop on the sidewalk below them. She straddled the bike and looked at them. Then, very slowly, she climbed off, propped the bike against the tree, removed her helmet, and hung it on the handlebars. She stared at Jake the whole while.
She stepped forward, arms stiff and hands fisted, like a toy soldier marching to its death.
Around clenched teeth, he asked, “When?”
She whispered, “Two months.”
Lilian looked back and forth between them, her eyes as wide as bread plates.
“For how long?”
Sadie winced. “Two years.”
Jake was so furious and so shocked that he thought he might actually explode—or maybe implode—on the spot.
He slammed the door behind him and stalked away from Sadie.
Sadie’s stomach roiled like it fought curdled milk, and her whole body broke out in a sick sweat. Her heart actually physically hurt behind her rib cage, and she pressed a fist there. She wanted to disappear—or better yet, just die.
From the middle of the three short steps to the landing, Lilian asked, “You didn’t tell him?”
“I’m sorry, so sorry.”
But it was Jake that Sadie needed to tell. Just like that, her legs unfroze, and she bolted past Lilian and the forgotten backpack, into the building and up the flight of stairs. She burst in the door, chest heaving, and said again, “I’m sorry!”
“I can’t believe you lied to me,” he nearly yelled.
She opened her mouth, but he was faster.
“Not mentioning a huge, game-changing, all-important thing like two years out of the country? What the fuck, Sadie?” Jake said, his voice dripping with disgust. “You married me.”
Sadie had never seen Jake so angry, nor heard him so loud. “But not really,” Sadie insisted. “It’s not real.”
Jake flinched, and his skin went from flushed to drained of color in an instant. “It’s real to me.”
“Since when?” She could barely breathe, yet somehow words rushed past her lips. “You proposed fake. You didn’t offer me real. You never said differently. I thought you were still pretending!”
Jake shook his head. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I didn’t think I’d have to.” She crossed her arms. “I thought you’d get cold feet.”
He laughed—but it was a horrible, mean, ugly, not-Jake sound. “Cold feet for a fake marriage?”
Sadie lifted her chin. “It’s not exactly your MO to stick around, Jake. The minute there’s another exciting opportunity on the horizon, you’re gone.”
“Look who’s talking,” Jake said as he grabbed his keys. “You’re the one who’s bailing.”
20
For the first time in weeks, Sadie crawled into bed alone. She cried herself hoarse, then slept fitfully. When she woke Friday morning, she discovered she’d gotten her period. Great. Way to make her feel even worse—though she knew her extreme emotions weren’t hormone related. They were pure heartbreak.
She dragged herself to the museum, but barely kept it together during the workday. She forced herself to eat a bit here and there for strength, but it didn’t help her stomach upset. She couldn’t focus to save her life. Didn’t manage a lick of work. Her eyes were red, her face swollen, and tears still sprang forth every few minutes. In short, she was a disaster zone.
She’d tried to call Jake a few times. He must have seen—or heard and ignored—the missed calls. She didn’t leave a message, though. Because what would she even say?
Come early evening, she still hadn’t heard anything back.
Sadie rode her bike to the diner feeling like she was pedaling toward doom. Even if Jake slept at his mom’s or brother’s or wherever again, he’d be on shift now. She had to face him, likely not in private.
She’d considered call
ing with some excuse, but not only had she made this new reality, she’d only ever called out when she’d been deathly ill. She never wanted to disappoint Rita. And she’d always felt strongly that she was a person who met her obligations. You didn’t just no-show. You did what you committed to.
Like going to Gumi.
She slid off her bike on the verge of tears and with a huge lump clogging her throat. She glanced at the back door of The Wanderlust, and the sinking feeling worsened. This could be bad, really bad.
With slow movements, she locked up her bike. Her heart clenched when her eyes caught the little bars on her spokes that made the LED lights work. Jake’s custom Pirates design.
He’d been so good to her, and she’d ruined everything.
Sadie’s lip wobbled, and she drew a shaky breath before peeling off her light jacket. Then she forced herself through the back door—and immediately heard Jake’s voice from the kitchen.
Her heart sank like cement all over again. He was here, to stay. And she was leaving. Because she was a misguided idiot with an overly strong sense of right and wrong.
But who was she wronging here? Everyone? The kids in Gumi? The program coordinator? Jake? Rita? Herself?
Good God, but she was in trouble.
Sadie put her jacket on the hook and her bag on the floor. She bowed her head and tried to work up the nerve to round the corner and go into the kitchen. Rita came into the back hallway before she’d managed it.
“Sadie,” she said. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Sadie looked up, but the minute she saw Rita, tears spilled down her face.
“Hey, hey, now,” Rita said, and scooped Sadie into a hug. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.”
“Come on outside with me,” Rita said. She took Sadie’s hand and pulled her toward the door.
Sadie felt she could breathe a bit deeper out here, but yikes, what in the world to tell Rita?
Rita had tried a bench out here long ago, but it attracted a lot of drunk club-goers and teen smokers at night, which in turn meant a bunch of litter, so she’d removed it. With nowhere to sit, Rita went straight for the edge, bent to sit on the cement, and dangled her legs over. Sadie joined her.