DEAR JOURNAL/DIARY/KEEPER of Secrets,
I know I’ve never addressed you as a diary or even as an entity at all, but I need you to be my sounding board for me today. I need someone to absorb all my secrets and not let them go. Will you do that for me?
For today, let’s talk as friends. You can be…well, you, and I will be me. Tomorrow, you can go back to being a bottomless void where I trap all my errant thoughts and dreams as they flutter and fly by.
Today, I feel…everything—happiness, love, fear, desire, and yes, even that dangerous little emotion, hope.
A new heart.
A new beginning.
A new life.
Could it be possible?
Could it be possible with Jude? Ever since he walked into my life, I’ve been walking on eggshells, scared of what my feelings might do to him, to me, to those around us.
But could this be the answer we’ve been waiting for? Could a new heart be our ticket to a normal life? To a taste of the world I’ve so desperately wanted to see with Jude by my side?
It feels too good to be true, and I’ve learned to distrust these types of situations. They never go well for me.
But what if they do?
Today, I had a glimpse of what life would be like with Jude beyond these hospital walls.
Dear God, I want more.
When he touched me, tasted me, and moved his mouth against my innocent skin, a part of myself awakened, a part of my soul came alive. My heart raced, and my skin flushed.
It scared me.
It thrilled me.
Just like Jude.
Just like Jude. The line lingered, and I found myself smiling as I rubbed my thumb across my bottom lip. He was thrilling and scary, but he was also gentle, sweet, and really sexy. I laughed at myself and closed the notebook, deciding to come back to it later.
It was starting to get late, just past eleven, and Jude had left for home not too long ago, stating that I needed to rest.
“I’m fine,” I’d insisted.
“Then, why are you still in the hospital?” He’d placed a kiss on my lips and disappeared before I could argue.
Dr. Marcus and my mother had been conspiring to keep me here for a bit longer to observe me after my recent illness. I could understand Mom’s control and panic issues, but I didn’t get why Dr. Marcus had been acting so overly cautious. Yes, I’d gotten sick, and okay, I could admit that it was bad, but I was fine now—well, as fine as someone with congestive heart failure could be.
Whatever.
Until their over-protective antics ended, I was stuck here.
I thought back to my afternoon with Jude, and a smile snuck up my cheeks.
The hospital wasn’t so bad. My face suddenly flamed red with heat, and I laughed.
Jude had undressed me and I’d let him do wicked things to me, and not once had I showed one second of embarrassment. I was amazed by my boldness and downright wantonness.
But now, while I’m all alone, I turn pink.
A chirping noise took me abruptly out of my wayward thoughts, and I grabbed my new phone off the tray table beside me.
Jude: Are you blushing?
I looked around as if the phone had somehow made him privy to the going-ons in my room. But no, it was just a text. There was no magic. It was just straight-up technology and a nosy man.
Lailah: And why would you think that?
I sent back my first text, feeling proud of myself.
I was texting my boyfriend. Awesome.
I realized that I was about five years behind for that statement to be cool, but the teenager in me who had never gotten to text was rejoicing.
Jude: Because I know you’re thinking about me.
Lailah: You’re cocky.
Jude: That’s an interesting choice of words.
Lailah: OMG!
Jude: Hey, look at you. Three texts in, and you’re a pro.
Lailah: Well, I am a product of my generation even if I don’t get to participate. :-)
Jude: Okay, now, you’re just showing off.
Lailah: Someone clearly missed his lessons. ;-)
Jude: Blame the stuffy education. Typing in incomplete sentences makes me twitchy.
Lailah: Thank you for the phone.
Jude: You’re welcome. We’ll knock them all off that list, Lailah. I promise.
Lailah: You’re crazy.
Jude: Yeah, but you like me anyway. Night.
Lailah: Good night. <3
I couldn’t help the grin etching my face as I set down the phone. Turning around, I pulled out the notebook housing my long list of dreams. Flipping though the pages, I found number fifty-one. After picking up the pen beside me, I drew a long black line through the words, Have an entire conversation using only text messages.
Flipping through the pages, I noticed a few others to cross out, and then my eyes fell to number one.
Quickly, without a second thought, I took the same black pen and placed a permanent line through the one dream I never thought would come true.
1. Fall in love.
From nearly the first moment when I’d met Jude Cavanaugh, he had been in a mode of constant planning. He’d moved from pudding to cafeteria dinners to cell phones, but he was always planning something for me.
Over the last week, I could tell he was planning something big.
His nose was buried in his phone, and he seemed to disappear into these secret meetings with Grace, Dr. Marcus, and even my mother at the oddest times. After everything he’d done for me, I was a little scared to ask what might be next.
“You’ve been very secretive lately,” I stated one evening during his brief lunch break.
He was eating an egg salad sandwich from the cafeteria and sipping on coffee while I slowly dug at the cup of pudding he’d brought me.
“All in good time,” he answered with a wink. He pulled apart another chunk of bread and tossed it into his mouth. He was leaned back in the chair tonight with his feet propped up on the rails of my bed. His floppy blond hair was pushed back from his eyes, making him look younger and more carefree.
My gaze wandered over his long, lean body, admiring the way he’d cared for it. I knew he ran and spent a lot of time lifting weights when he wasn’t here. It showed in every move he made. When his body flexed and tightened, the tattoos scattered up his arms seemed to come alive with the slightest movement.
“Do your tattoos mean anything to you?” I asked, looking at the winding black scrollwork that moved across his forearm until it disappeared under his shirt.
“No, not really,” he replied. “I was in a dark place when I got them. I wanted to be someone else, anyone else but the person I had been when I came here.”
“Did it work?”
“No,” he answered. “Ink and a different hairstyle doesn’t change who you are. Life does.”
I reached forward, placing my fingers on the inked skin and traced the path it made.
“They might have helped me disappear, but I am still a Cavanaugh.”
His eyes looked lost as if they had drifted off to someplace in his past.
“Tell me about your family,” I said, tugging on his hand.
He got the hint, and set his coffee and the trash from his dinner down next to the bed. He joined me, and I curled into his warmth as I waited for him to respond.
“My family is a variety of things. We were four different people all thrown into one house, but I guess that could probably summarize every family on the planet. Mine just came with the added pressure of a multibillion-dollar corporation.”
“Did you say billion?”
He nodded.
“My mom is kind and loving, and my father adores her. Over the years, the press has occasionally tried to find evidence of my father cheating, but they’ll never find it. They’d have better luck looking for cheating in other areas besides his marital bed,” he remarked, shaking his head.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s just say my father’s and brother’s business practices haven’t always been the most…”
“Legal?” I guessed.
“No, they’re mostly legal—or at least they could pay someone off to vouch for it. I have just never been in agreement with the way they do business. For them, it’s always been pure greed. How much can we make, and how fast can we make it? It doesn’t matter how many companies we have to close, or the amount of people we have to put out of business. It’s all about the bottom dollar. If the trend was to expand, we would. If we had to downsize, we’d cut corners until we were making out like thieves. I hated it.”
“Is that why you left?”
“It’s why I stayed away. It’s not why I left though.”
Still curled into his chest, I pulled back slightly and found him staring down at me, his eyes full of conflict.
“I was engaged,” he confessed, his voice hoarse and soft.
I wrapped my hands around his and squeezed. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I found an article about you—”
“And it mentioned the car accident,” he guessed.
“No, it was actually Grace who told me about that part. She didn’t know it was you I was asking about.”
He nodded, not making a sound.
“I assumed you would tell me when you were ready,” I offered.
“Her name was Megan,” he said finally after a long pause. “She was a firecracker and a jokester, and everyone loved her. Every one of my friends thought I was insane for proposing to her the day we graduated from college, but I knew I wanted her by my side when I would have to return home to join forces with my father and brother. Megan and I had two weeks of vacation to enjoy California and Hawaii before my days of fun would end, and I would have to trade it all. God, I remember being so scared about how it would all turn out, having a wife and my demanding father. I didn’t know how it could work, but I wanted it to so badly.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Megan and I went to a party. We’d met some random college students at a bar and they’d invited us back to an end of the year party on campus. I begged her to drive us back to the hotel rather than stay the night. It’s all my fault,” he answered, his voice cracking.
“Oh, Jude,” I said, my heart breaking for him.
He wrapped his arms around me, like I was his anchor, as he held me in silence.
“You stayed here to punish yourself,” I whispered against his chest.
He took his time before answering, “I stayed because I had nowhere else to go.”
I pulled back, looking into his eyes that were so full of sadness.
“But you had a family, Jude. What about your friends? Didn’t they care that you were hurting, grieving?”
“Friends can only try for so long. After I switched my number and disappeared—so did they. And my family made it perfectly clear that they needed me for one purpose, and that was to make money,” he answered, his expression growing a bit harder at the mention of his family.
“Besides, my life was over, Lailah. I had no home to return to.”
“I cannot even begin to understand what you went through, but to hear you say you thought your life was over pains me in a way I can’t describe. You were twenty-two, Jude. You lost someone you loved, but your life was definitely not over. I really hope you don’t still think that.”
“I don’t know what I believe anymore.” He sat up and ran his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner. I followed, sitting with my legs crossed beside him.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe your life had just started?” I asked.
His eyes flew up to mine in surprise. “How?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but you said you were scared to death of what might happen when you returned to New York. Did it ever occur to you that by staying here in California, you might have given yourself a chance to create something new, something different?”
He scooted forward, out of my grasp, until he moved off the bed completely. He stalked across the room. “Are you saying that Megan’s death happened for a reason?” His words were clipped as he paced from one corner to the next.
My face fell at his angry words. “God, no, Jude. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Because you have no idea, no clue what she was like or what I went through. She was everything to me!” he shouted, causing me to jump.
Tears fell from my eyes as I struggled to find words to fix this. “I know. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.” The words tumbled out as I tried to grasp on to anything to keep him from leaving this room, from leaving me.
“My break is over. I’ve got to go.” He turned, walked out, and didn’t bother looking back.
My palms came to my cheeks, and I let go of the flood I’d been holding back as I mourned a woman I never knew, a woman who still held the heart of the man I loved.
Will he ever be able to let go?