“She turned four two days later.
“Dad got her a cake and presents, and celebrated like nothing was wrong, but every time he looked at me, I could see how much he hated me. How much he blamed me. It went on like that for a couple of years. Until I finally got up the nerve to ask him about it. He told me he could never forgive me for taking her from him. He said there was something wrong with me. He said I didn’t know how to love the right way, that I only hurt the people I was supposed to care about. He never let me forget it, either. After that day, he only hid his feelings from Jenna. Never from me. He blamed me for everything after that. If Jenna fell off her bike and scraped her knee, it was my fault for not watching her closely enough. If she got in a fight at school, it was my fault for being a terrible big brother. He never said anything in front of her, though. He wanted her to have a good life, one without all the pain we’d known. And so did I. I didn’t want her to have to feel like I did all the time. I even tried not to love her. I was afraid if I loved her like I did Mom, something would happen to her. Like Dad said. So I never did. And nothing bad ever happened to her. I learned early on that the best thing I could do for people I cared about was to stay away from them. To care as little about them as possible. And it’s worked. I haven’t lost another person I loved since the day Mom died. And neither had Dad.”
A sob is torn from my throat. I clamp my hand over my mouth to hold it in, but like pressure building up behind a kinked water hose, the dam eventually breaks. And when it does, nothing can control the flood. I bury my face in my hands and let go.
Even behind my hands, behind my closed eyes, I see the picture of Jake’s tortured face. He’s learned not to let his pain show, but for these few seconds, in the quiet night and pale, silvery moonlight, he let me see. And it’s almost too much to bear.
I feel him lean over me and wrap his arms around my shoulders, smoothing my hair with his wide palm. “Shhh,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I wind my arms around his waist, lay my face against his chest and I cry. I cry for Jake. From the deepest, darkest part of my soul, I cry for him. For all he’s been through. For all he’s lost. For a lifetime of feeling he’s to blame. And for a lifetime of missing out on something so simple yet so profound as love.
“Oh God, Jake, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry you’ve been through so much. No one deserves that.”
“It’s over now. I just wanted you to know who I am. Who I was. But that’s in the past now. There’s no need for you to cry.”
I lean back and look into his handsome face. “You’re comforting me?” I reach up to cup his cheeks. “If there was some way I could help, some way I could take away the pain, I would do it, Jake. I would do that for you. I’d give anything to go back and make things different for you. You’ve missed out on so much. So much love and happiness.”
Jake grabs my wrist and turns his lips into my palm then smiles a small smile. “But it’s made me who I am today. And today, I’m a different man. Because of you.” Reaching up to brush his thumb over my cheekbone, Jake’s eyes pour bits and pieces of his heart into mine. “Today, I realized that I’m not the person he thought I was. Today, I realized that I don’t always hurt the people I love. Today, I realized that I’d rather walk into a fire and carry out your father, who hates me, and your fiancé, who’s marrying the woman I love, than to see you hurting for one more second. Today, for the first time in my life, I felt like I could love somebody like they deserved to be loved. Like I could love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
Taking my face in both his hands, he tilts it up to his. “Laney, I don’t deserve you. I could never deserve you. But I can promise you that there’s not another man on the planet that will love you like I do. That would lay down his life for your happiness. That would give up his whole world if it made you smile. And I’m not letting you go without a fight. I watched you walk away once and it nearly killed me. I won’t let it happen again.”
I’m crying again. But this time, tears of pure joy. My heart is near bursting from the most intense, overwhelming happiness I could ever imagine feeling. Nothing else in my entire life has ever come close to this. And I have a feeling that nothing else ever will.
“I love you, Jake Theopolis,” I whisper, scattering kisses all over his face. “I love you more than anyone has a right to love another human being. Do you hear me? Promise me you’ll never leave me. Promise me.”
In my fervor, my lips cross his. And, like always, there’s a spark. Only this time, there’s more. There’s love. And there’s salt. And there’s tenderness. And there’s hope.
And, right in the middle of it all, there’s heat.
“Never,” he murmurs against them, his tongue licking over the crease.
Like the fire at the church—sudden, explosive, raging—everything I feel for Jake and everything he feels for me bubbles to the surface. We are hands and lips. We are mouths and tongues. We are passion and desperation. And it is beautiful.
When Jake slips his hands beneath my skirt and tears my panties off, I reach behind me for the roll bar, winding my arms around it. I hear him fumble with his zipper and then he’s lifting me off my feet, slamming me down on him, rocking me against the cushioned bar.
My legs around his waist and his long, thick hardness buried inside me, Jake moves me against him. Over him. Through him, it seems. And when I come apart, in a shower of bright white stars and crackling heat, I hear his hoarse, velvety voice breaking the silence. With every stroke, he whispers, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Those three simple words have never meant so much.
THIRTY-EIGHT: Jake
Two months later
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jenna asks, stabbing me in the ribs with her pointy elbow.
“There’s not enough room in this kitchen for both of us, dammit!” I snap.
I’m glad that Jenna has finally overcome her grief enough that she can come into the house, but we are tripping all over each other trying to get shit ready for this cookout.
“God! You’re so grouchy! When was the last time Laney stayed over?”
“I haven’t seen her all week. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes. It. Does. We are Theopolises. We need our . . . attention.”
“Ewww, could you please refrain from making me nauseous right before supper.”