CHAPTER FOUR
Skye
Present Day…
I popped two Advils into my mouth, washed them down with a big gulp of water, and leaned against the minuscule kitchen counter. From the doorway, my cousin Cadence watched me with wary eyes, as if afraid that any moment I’d run shrieking from our apartment. And maybe I would. After all, I wasn’t doing a very good job at handling the day’s stress.
As if losing Jagger at the game wasn’t bad enough, then to run into him…
I shielded my eyes with my hands and listened to the sounds of Jagg’s favorite cartoon floating out of the living room. “I’ve never had a headache like this before.”
My cousin scoffed, but her face was full of love and sympathy. “Because you’ve never found yourself in a situation like this before.”
I dropped my hands and looked at her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done this. I should have told him years ago. I should have...”
Cadence cut me off by slicing her hand through the air. “No. Don’t do that. You had your reasons, okay? And he’s the one who left, remember?”
“But he didn’t know,” I whispered. Jagger was probably one hundred percent fixated on the television screen, but I couldn’t risk him hearing even a bit of the conversation.
“He didn’t want to know.” Cadence’s answer was in the sharp tone that said that was that.
I sighed and nodded. “Yeah...”
Though she’d never met Jake, Cadence knew almost as much about him as I did. Even though we grew up sixty miles away from each other, we were tight long before I ever knew Jake, practically since birth. I’d spared no details when it came to dishing on him — not while Jake and I knew each other, and not after.
Cadence opened the fridge and pulled out a sparkling water. The kitchen was so tiny that it could barely fit more than two people and an open refrigerator door. We usually ate our meals at the long breakfast table that sat between the kitchen and living room. Though the garden apartment was small, the rent had been a steal when the three of us moved into it shortly after Jagger was born. My parents had offered to pitch in so that we could get a bigger place, but I’d declined. Striking out on my own hadn’t been part of my original plan, but it was a lifestyle that I would acclimate to. That was what I decided the day I found out I was going to be a single mother. I’d never backed down from that choice, and I never would.
Cadence unscrewed her water, her eyes still sealed on my face. “He probably has a lot of issues. Like, mental and emotional stuff. Am I right? Even more than back then.”
“Yeah, probably,” I conceded. “But so do I.”
“You’re dealing with yours. You went to therapy, and you’re studying to become a psychologist yourself. You haven’t exactly run away from your past.”
I found myself defending him. “Maybe he’s dealt with his too.”
She lifted a blonde eyebrow. “From what you’ve told me about him? Do you really think that?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think right now… what to feel.”
She shook her head, frowning. “The way I see it, you don’t even owe him this meeting.”
I didn’t see it that way.
“I want to tell him the truth. Don’t you think that us running into each other means something?”
The frown didn’t leave her face. “Hmm… I don’t know.”
“It has to.”
She popped her forehead with her palm. “Everything has to mean something?”
“Everything in my life has to,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the day’s events settling on the words. “That’s the way it is for most people. And if you can’t find meaning, you have to create it or else life will seriously suck.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that one. You’re the therapist.”
“One day,” I corrected her. “One day I’ll be in that chair, helping who I can.”
Yeah, right. If I’m not so screwed up myself that I land in a looney bin.
Cadence’s eyes darted to the time on the stove, and she grabbed my hands, giving them a squeeze. “If you’re going to do this, you better get going. It’s fifteen till.”
“Damn,” I hissed, pushing myself off the counter. I hurried into the living room and kissed Jagger on the top of the head. “Bye, honey. Be good for Cadence.”
Jagg, eyes still glued to the TV, made a gruff noise of agreement.
“Thanks again,” I said to my cousin. She gave me a wave and a smile as I grabbed my purse and flew out the door.
It was still light out, with the first signs of dusk creeping around the trees and parked cars. Our place was one brownstone out of many in the neighborhood, and I’d always loved it. It had that classic New York feel, the kind that I used to imagine all of the district would have.
I wished I could say moving to the city had been a magical experience, but with an infant in tow and an undergraduate degree to pursue, I hadn’t exactly had much time to kick back and enjoy the ride. In some ways, though, it was good. Raising a young kid, going to school, and working all provided me with a fair amount of distraction. In those early years, I didn’t have much time to think about anything other than my next exam or getting Jagger to the all-night clinic when he had a bad earache. I didn’t have time to dwell on the past or wish things had been different.
Except now I did have a bit of time. With my undergraduate degree finally done and the summer off from school, I had a little bit of breathing space. It was almost ironic that Jake should so suddenly show up now.
I twisted the strap of my purse around my fingers as I walked the first block. With each step, my heart beat faster and my stomach churned with my past mistakes. I knew what I had to do, and it wouldn’t be easy. I felt slightly ashamed for my choices, but what Cadence said in the kitchen rang clearly in my head. Jake was the one who left. No calls. No e-mails. He was there one day, and then… gone.
Forget I ever existed.
Those were his last words to me.
I figured that would be forever and had created my new life around his absence. And now here he was, shaking everything up. There was the right thing to do, sure. But there was also the hurt side of me, and she had a lot to say. She had a lot of reasons to defend herself. She’d carried a lot of burdens all on her own.
I’d become stronger thanks to the hurdles, but that didn’t mean I was freaking Mother Theresa. I wanted to forgive, but it wasn’t something that came to me easily even as I knew how important it was. Especially with the fear of his unknown reaction weighing me down.
My steps slowed as I got closer to the bar. When I finally pushed the door open, I was so sick to my stomach I thought I might vomit right then and there.
Jake sat at the end of the bar, just a few feet from the front door. He must have seen me coming in through the glass because he turned on his stool, his eyes set on my face. At the sight of him, my stomach had a whole new kind of reaction. It twisted and somersaulted, threatening to flip its way out of my body, letting all the butterflies escape.
With his tight shirt hugging his muscles and his brown hair mussed up in the way I always remembered it, there was no fighting what he did to me. No amount of time could rid me of the feelings brought on by one glimpse of Jake Truman.
I knew each curve and slant of his face. I knew the gold fleck in his right iris. I knew the way his smiles always began with his right upper lip curling first. The dimple that appeared. These things haunted me. In some way I didn’t understand, they even strengthened me. For six years, I’d remembered Jake with both fondness and pain. Not even the memories were simple.
Seeing him threatened to be my undoing.
My legs shook, a second away from all-out buckling. While I could, I quickly took a couple steps forward and pitched myself onto the stool next to Jake.
“Hi,” he said.
I took in what I only wished was a cleansing breath. “Hey.”
A beer bottle sat in front of him. By the amount of sweat running down it, I could tell it had been there a while, but it didn’t look like he’d taken more than one drink.
“What are you having?” he asked me as he signaled the bartender.
I searched my brain. I was such a mess that I couldn’t even remember any of my usual drinks. I did, however, know I needed one. Bad.
“Cranberry vodka,” I heard myself say.
The bartender nodded and filled up a tumbler. Looking at Jake didn’t feel like an option, so I kept my eyes trained on the smooth, wooden bar. The two of us were quiet as my cocktail was set in front of me. I quickly bent my head and gave the straw a hearty suck. Here went nothing.
Hopefully, the liquor would give me some courage.
“I’m glad you came,” Jake said, the rough edge of his voice sawing away at my nerves.
I glanced at him before turning back to my drink. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
His hand moved toward mine but stopped when it had only covered half the distance. “No. That’s not what I meant. Sorry if it sounded that way.”
I needed to pull myself together, so I looked up and met his gaze for a half second. “It’s okay.”
I stirred the ice cubes with the thin, black straw. I’d hoped there would be less tension between us than there had been at the ball game, but it didn’t look like my wish was coming true. There was the tension, but there was something even more electric beneath it. It was like the atmosphere had grown thicker, making it harder to breathe.
“You live around here?” Jake asked.
It was such a normal question that I actually laughed. For the first time, I was able to look right at the man who had once meant the entire world to me. He smiled, his upper right lip taking the lead just like I knew it would.
“About a dozen blocks away. What about you?”
“Midtown Manhattan.”
He still hadn’t asked about Jagger, and I found myself praying that he wouldn’t. If only we could just act like everything was all right for a while longer. If only we could pretend that we were seventeen again, living it up and having the time of our lives.
So far, it was such a standard conversation. Anyone passing by would have thought Jake and I were on a casual date. They might have even guessed we barely knew each other, or that we were just another young couple out on the town, with nothing in particular to do and the whole world at our fingertips. I wanted to hold onto that moment, to make believe that life had really turned out that simple for both of us.
“Where?” I asked to prolong the moment. “What street do you live on?”
“Fifth Avenue.”
Fifth Avenue… of course. Overlooking Central Park on the East Side of Manhattan, it was one of the most expensive places to live in the city. Jake probably owned an entire building there. If he wanted to, he could buy a whole block.
“Why New York?”
Jake clasped his hands together and stared off into space. “Why anywhere else?”
I got what he didn’t want to say. Weston wasn’t a home to him anymore. I knew because it was common knowledge in the small town that Jake Truman hadn’t shown his face there since that fateful day.
I took another sip of my drink. The alcohol warmed me, calmed my stomach, and loosened my tongue. “I’m going to school here. I can’t remember if I told you that or not.”
“Where? The city college?”
I felt a moment of pleasure. “You remember that?”
He smiled, and his eyes seemed to caress my face. “It’s where you planned on going.”
He did remember.
“Yeah. That’s right. But I finally finished with my undergraduate, and I’ll be working toward my graduate next. I’m in between right now. In the fall, I’m going to Columbia. I’m training to be a psychologist.”
Jake’s eyes widened in obvious appreciation. “No shit?”
It was an expression from bygone years, one more little quirk that reminded me of how things used to be. Seeing his pleasure and surprise made me grin. “Yeah.”
“You’ll be great at that.”
I rolled my eyes. “How do you know?”
His eyes searched mine, and he cleared his throat. “I can tell. You were always such a great listener. A great… friend.”
The deep and seductive tones in his voice sent shivers through me. I looked back at my drink, suddenly uncomfortable again.
And turned on. And angry. And sad. And thrilled. I was everything a person could ever be all at once.
Jake tapped his fingers on the bar, and I remembered how they had once touched me. I shivered, wanting them to touch me now.
“So,” he said, drawing out the word. By the tone of his voice, I could tell what was coming next. “Where is Jagger’s father?”
My eyeballs felt like they weighed two tons as I lifted them to Jake’s face. The answer burned in my mouth, but I couldn’t get it out. I was frozen by fear and shame. Frozen by sadness. And anger.
It’s all your fault, I wanted to scream at him. If only you hadn’t left me all alone.
If only…
How many times had I started a sentence with those two words?
Jake’s eyes softened and immense sadness filled them. It was as if he could read my mind. I didn’t need to say a word. The pain in his eyes turned into real agony.
“You left,” I whispered from a cracked throat. “You just left me, Jake.”
There was so much more I needed to say but tears blurred my vision and pain clogged my senses. I didn’t want to cry in such a public place, but it seemed like I had no choice. Turning my face away from Jake, I pressed my fingertips under my eyes and forced myself to take deep, steadying breaths.
“I know.” His answer was cold, like it had been carved in stone. “Don’t blame yourself for any of this.”
I sniffled and turned back to him. A moment before, it was what I would have wanted to hear, but now the hardness of his confession did nothing to assuage my pain.
“You just forgot about me,” I said in a still hushed voice.
“No,” came his sharp answer. “Skye, I never forgot about you.”
My mood turned from sadness to anger in an instant.
“How do I know that? I thought of you every day, Jake. The accident…” I took in a shuddering breath, bracing myself against the onslaught of memories. I didn’t usually suppress them, but right now I needed to. Right now, I needed to be strong.
“Was my fault,” he finished for me.
I shook my head and looked up at the ceiling. Of course he would still think that. “Jake, you walked away. What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t blame you.”
I kept going, his words barely more than a buzz in my head. I had things to say, and I wasn’t going to stop until I got them out. “You told me to forget that you ever existed, so I figured you really never wanted to see me again, so that’s why I didn’t call or write.”
Jake’s jaw clicked. “You’re right. It would have been too painful to look at you.”
I knew it. He still blamed me for what happened that night. The agony of knowing the truth was almost too much. But I had to go on. I needed the truth out of me. It needed to see the light of day.
“And Jagger…” Just saying my son’s — our son’s — name in Jake’s presence stabbed me with new pangs of guilt. “To see him...”
Jake’s eyes locked onto mine, and he turned me until his hands were on my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin. “He’s my son then.” His voice was raw, as if the words had been ripped from his throat. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” I breathed. Please, God, forgive me. “Yes, he’s your son.”
Jake dropped his face in his hands, his chest heaving in and out, the air pushing and pulling from his lungs like bellows. His fingers tightened on my shoulders, but I welcomed the pain.
“I’m sorry,” I said, the hot tears burning my nose and eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
And I was.
It was his fault and my fault, and I felt the sorrow with every fiber of my being. I was sorry for everything that had happened, not just for the way both of us behaved.
“I have no one to blame but myself,” he said, still not looking at me.
He pushed his stool back, the legs making a harsh scraping sound on the floor. And then, without another word, he was out the door.
I stayed where I was, frozen to my own seat.
Once again, Jake was gone.