Tears spilled over his lids as he started the car. Sarah was right about one thing. If they didn't try to make this work he would regret it forever.
Jackson drove for a long while. He couldn't go home and let Sarah and Connor see how tentative his composure was. He needed time to find some control over his emotions. His thoughts were scattered and irrational. Connor's description of being in the holding cell 'losing his mind and living a nightmare' accurately described his feelings. At least he wasn't locked up somewhere. Suddenly, he found a great deal of empathy for Connor, and wondered if he could ever be as well adjusted to his situation as the human had become.
Jackson had not allowed himself to reflect on his relationship with Elisabeth prior to learning her secret, but now he let the memories rush in and in doing so, found some peace. He thought about what his world would be like if they ended things. Certainly, he would never be able to return to his previous lifestyle. Their relationship had changed him inextricably. She elicited emotions he never felt capable of, never thought existed.
When Jackson returned home, Sarah and Connor were sitting down for dinner. "Just in time, let me get you a plate."
"No thanks, I don't feel like eating."
"You all right?"
"Yeah, I think I am." He went to get some blood and a drink, no bottle, just a glass. "Sarah, what did you do with the painting?"
"I took it to be restored. It will be ready in a few days."
"Thank you, whatever did you say happened to it?"
"I ended up influencing the guy. I couldn't come up with an explanation that would keep him from notifying the police."
"Yeah, that would be tough. What about the portfolio?"
"Oh, I put that in the closet."
Jackson retrieved it and made for the stairs.
Sarah met him at the base. "Did things go well today?"
"I think so."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, I'm okay, kind of talked out."
"All right. Let me know if you change your mind."
"Will do."
Jackson hung the winter landscape where the fall scene had been, and propped the other two pieces on the mantel. He sat up in bed admiring them, allowing all the emotion he originally felt to wash over him. Elisabeth's art moved him deeply, much as his music did. He took out his phone and called her.
"Hello."
"Hi... I'm sitting here enjoying the pieces you brought me."
"Really? Have you hung them?"
"No, not yet. I have all three in my bedroom. They are so beautiful."