Chapter 15
ABBY
Before I drive Kate back to her apartment, I find Jack sitting on the shore, watching the waves crash into the shore. The surf is quiet today. I see him sitting there with his knees drawn up, his bare feet pushed into the sand. His head is hanging between his shoulders like he's worried. He grips the side of his head like he can't believe this is happening. Silently, I walk toward him and sit down. Neither of us says anything for a few moments.
Jack speaks first. He untangles his hands from the back of his head and looks up at me. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to lose my temper. It's just - "
I lean into his shoulder, and say, "I would have done the same. Sometimes smashing a piece of glass feels really good. Other times it just makes a mess."
Jack glances at me out of the corner of his eye. His dark hair is ruffled by the wind. Everything about him looks so perfect. I want to ease his pain. I want to make this vanish for him, but I don't know how. Gus is on the phone, throwing me under the bus. Jack will be upset that I did it, but I couldn't let them do this to him. Diverting their attention might make the whole thing pass faster. I'm a nobody. Making an example out of me is pointless.
"You always say things like that."
"Like what?"
He smiles at me. "Things that make me feel better for acting like an idiot. You're like, 'oh I do that, too.'" He smiles sheepishly at me and looks down at his knees. "You know, I thought our married life would be the start of something amazing. Now, I feel like I just shot all that to Hell. As soon as you stepped off the plane, I dragged you back into the acidic limelight. I wonder if it's worth it. Maybe I should have closed the studio. You and I could have lived off our money forever and never needed a thing. This was greedy, thoughtless..."
I stare at him, shocked that he would suggest such a thing. "Working is not greedy. Feeling the need to create something isn't greed either. Just because they don't understand you doesn't give them a reason to crucify you.
"Jack, I love you. I love your art, I love watching you paint. I couldn't wait to assist and be there when you made you next piece of work. Everyone is buzzing about how amazing you are, about how you're at a juncture and that your work will change. We're all waiting with bated breath to see what you do." I'm smiling. I can't help it. My hand is on Jack's knee and I'm looking him in the eye as I tell him my hopes. "You can't give up because some ass doesn't understand you."
"It's not giving up, Abby. It's prioritizing. I chose you. You come first." He looks at me with those big blue eyes and my heart lurches. He'd give up everything for me.
"You come first for me, too, which is why I can't let you do this. You can't shove half of who you are in a box and pretend it isn't there anymore. You can't; believe me, I know. Half my heart has always been here with you. I tried to run, but a piece of me was missing. We complement each other like bread and butter. We just go together. It makes everything better - every experience, every moment, every joy, and every bit of trouble. Jack, I love all of you. I'll stand beside you no matter what happens."
The air feels heavy, like there's a storm in the distance. Jack looks out to sea while I speak, his eyes fixated on the waves. His arms have been wrapped around his knees the entire time. I drape my arm over his shoulder and pull him to me. Jack rests his head against my shoulder. His arm slips around my waist and he says, "I am my beloveds and my beloved is mine."
"Are you quoting pretty poems to get into my panties?" I say, jokingly.
Jack laughs and turns to me. The grin on his face is the only forewarning I have. Suddenly I'm on his lap, in his arms. He's tickling me. "That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble, Mrs. Gray."
"If this is trouble, I'm all in." He tickles me harder and I fall back into the sand. Jack is on top of me, looking down into my eyes. Something changes, and when he kisses me, it feels like a cry for help. I kiss him softly; and thread my fingers through his hair, holding the back of his head. I act much braver than I am. I don't know what's coming, and maybe they do. The other part is this fierce girl that lives inside of me and takes control of my mouth periodically. She likes to kick ass. I wish I could hold onto her more often.
"I need to bring Kate home. She's probably asleep, drooling on your desk."
Jack's eyes glitter, like he's thinking something naughty. "Sometimes I wonder what would make you salivate like that, what would render you so incredibly filled with lust; that you would drool all over yourself." He presses a kiss to my neck.
"I suppose you intend to find out?" I ask, looking up at him through my lashes. It feels weird talking about something I've been trying to avoid for most of my life.
He nods. "You know I do. Tonight, after dinner, I want to make you feel like you're the only person in the world and the only thing you want is me."
My stomach does a delicious dip when he says those words. "That sounds perfect."
Chapter 16
ABBY
As I ride back with Kate, she doesn't say much. I practically have to twist her arm to get her talking. "So, nothing at all happened while I was gone?"
"Aside from the obvious, no." She's gazing out her window, leaning away from me. I'm driving Jack's car. It handles like a dream.
"Why didn't you let us know?" I ask, a little annoyed with her. They could have told us what we were walking into.
"Gus did," Kate looks at me funny. "He called Jack the last night you were there. We didn't want to mess up your entire trip."
Ah, that makes more sense. Jack seemed like he wanted to stay in the room that night, but then he changed his mind. I'm upset that he didn't tell me, but glad at the same time. He let me have our last night there without the stress. "He didn't tell me."
"I guess he wanted to keep you in honeymoon mode until the last second. Speaking of which, how was it? Amazing sex all week? Do you have sand in horrible places now?" She waggles her eyebrows at me.
Glancing at her, I squeal, "I can't believe you asked me that!"
"Of course you can. Now spill. How was he?" Kate leans toward me on the armrest and stares at the side of my face.
"I don't - "
"You don't what? You can't say you don't have sex anymore, because I know you do. You have that glowing, I-just-got-fucked-like-crazy look about you. So, is he rough? Does he do weird things with paintbrushes?" Now she's just trying to get to me.
I start laughing and give her little bits and pieces. "I never thought this would be my life. I mean, I can't believe Jack is mine."
I pull up in front of our old apartment in Port Jeff. It looks exactly the same. God, I love it here. Before we get out of the car, Kate grabs my wrist. I look up at her. "Listen," she says, tucking her hair behind her ear, "I was talking to Gus about this before you came back. He's really worried about Jack. If he didn't have you, Gus wasn't sure what'd he'd do."
"What do you mean?"
"Come on Abby, think about it. Jack's an idealist, like you. What happens when the ideal shatters? What happens then?"
"I don't know." That's where I am, floating along without purpose. Right now Jack is my anchor and I'm glad I have him, but I have no idea what to do with the rest of my life. What does that mean for Jack? His art is tied to his soul. It's part of his identity. What will happen if someone tears that away from him?
"I can't say that what you did today wasn't noble - it was. I know you want to protect him, but sometimes you can't. You got lucky with Emily. There's no way around this mess. It's going to hit hard and fast."
"Bring it," I say. "I'll fight for Jack, no matter what. My life is a mess, Kate. He's the only thing I have left that means anything anymore. I can tell he hasn't forgiven himself for coming onto me that night."
"What are you talking about?" Kate turns in her seat and looks at me.
"There was a lot of tension between us. He kept touching me, kissing my cheek. The night he said he loved me and that he could never have me, I nearly died. I thought he was a horrible flirt all those years. I had no idea, Kate - none. And now that we're together, he's punishing himself for loving me." I bury my face in my hands. "We're so messed up. Both of us. I'm trying to save him and he's trying to save me."
"I didn't know that," Kate says tapping her nails together. She flicks a glance at me out of the corner of her eye. "What happened those times he kissed you? Was it brotherly? Did you kiss him back?"
"Nothing happened. It was like that moment before a kiss, where you feel drawn to the person. A few times, he broke the tension by kissing my face. But that last night, without that confession, I would have never come on to him. He blames himself. I see it in his eyes. All this Brimstone crap is making him think that he was right, that he shouldn't have told me."
Kate watches me as I speak. She asks, plainly, "And what do you think? Was it a mistake?"
"No," I say with utter conviction. "Jack always held my heart. He didn't destroy me. If anything he held me together when I was falling apart... while I'm still falling apart. He sees that, doesn't he?"
"I think everyone sees that, babe. You have scars that are festering. You need to lose those feelings and get your head screwed back on straight. Jack has got to be blaming himself. If I was in his shoes, I'd feel that way, too. No wonder why he was acting like he had crazy-ass PMS today." Her eyebrows stretch up her face as she inhales. Kate looks me in the eye like she wants to say something else, but she doesn't.
When we walk up to her front porch, I hear a guy knocking a few doors down. The door he's standing in front of creaks open and he says, "I'm looking for Abigail Tyndale. Does she live here?"
Kate bristles. She practically shoves me inside, but I grab onto the jamb and hang my head out. "Jackson?" I ask.
The man turns and looks at me. It is him. Jackson has a narrow face with a cute little nose. He is wearing wire glasses and from the looks of it, a suit. It takes him a moment to recognize me since I'm struggling with Kate and only my head is hanging outside.
"Yes," he says uncertainly. "Abby? Is that you?"
I slap Kate away and walk outside to meet him. "What are you doing here?"
Pushing his glasses up his nose, Jackson glances past me at Kate, who has her arms folded over her chest and a pissed off expression on her face. She's leaning against the doorframe. "I was in New York on vacation and thought I'd look you up. I saw on the news a few weeks ago that you married a local artist."
"I did. I married Jack Gray."
Kate clears her throat and steps toward us with a sharp look in her eye. Thrusting her hand forward, she says, "I'm Kate, her best friend. Who are you? And how'd you know she was living here?"
"Kate!" She's so rude. I don't know why she's acting this way, but I can tell she doesn't like him. "Be nice! This is Jackson Wright. He went to college with me. We had several classes together. He graduated a year ahead of me. He's not paparazzi, calm down."
Jackson shakes her hand and I know Kate squeezed his too hard. The stern expression remains on her face. "Well, Abby and I were about to have a chat, so - "
I make a face at Kate and she makes one back. "Jackson, it's great to see you." I take a card from my purse and scribble my cell number on it. "Call me tomorrow and we can catch up."
Jackson takes the card and looks at it. Grasping the paper between his fingers, he smiles and nods at me. "I will. Have a good night. It was nice to meet you, Kate."
"Yeah, whatever," she says, and turns to go inside.
My eyes are bugging out of my head when she closes the door. "Are you insane? That was a friend! Why are you being so nasty?"
Kate looks at me like I'm a moron. "Something's not right. Why is he looking for you now? Why three doors down? No one knew you lived here."
"The press figured it out before I was married, so why couldn't he?" I'm trying not to yell, but she's making me crazy. Kate always acts like she knows more than me and I can't stand it anymore. I'm right, about this - about Jackson showing up now - I'm right. He probably doesn't even know what's going on.
"Gut reaction, Abby. That guy is bad news."
"Well, take a Pepto and get over it. I refuse to believe that every person from the past ten years of my life is corrupt."
"I didn't say that, I just said that something's not right." She looks at me like I should be agreeing with her, but I'm not. I won't. My arms are folded tightly over my chest and I'm glaring at her. Kate sighs dramatically and throws her arms up in the air. "Who tracks down a married woman? Not a man. Not a man with good intentions. Who the fuck does that, Abby?"
"He's a good guy, Kate." There's a warning tone in my voice, but she doesn't back down.
Rolling her eyes, Kate says, "He's a man. You're a woman. Remember, you screwed Jack before you were married. People make vows. Sometimes they break them."
My spine stiffens. Eyes wide, I stare at her like she slapped my face. There was nothing worse she could have said to me. That comment hit me twice, once slamming how my relationship with Jack started and again by pointing out that I broke my vows, a promise that I was supposed to keep, forever. It is something that keeps playing through my mind at night. Not just being a failure, but that my word was worthless. It meant nothing. It didn't matter what I promised, because I broke the biggest promise that I ever made. It wasn't just a promise to myself or to the church, but to God. It meant I'd chosen my life and set it in stone. But that's broken now. Everything's broken. The fracture lies deep within my heart, and I have no idea how to mend it.
I stare at Kate. A million words fill my mouth but none of them are right. I can't say a damn thing. I have no idea what expression is on my face, but suddenly her hackles drop. She lifts her hand, sensing that she's gone too far. I don't give her the chance. Pressing my lips together, I turn on my heel and walk out the door, slamming it behind me. Before Kate reaches the porch, I'm in the car and down the street.
Everything is changing. I wonder if I really know anyone anymore, myself included.