Chapter 26
Evan
“Y ou must be Evan.” Jane’s father rises from the table to shake my hand. He has salt-and-pepper hair, and he’s shorter and slighter than my own father.
The atmosphere is tense, and my wife’s hand trembles on the table. She’s abandoned her chicken, and it’s not like her to leave food half-eaten. Her dad’s plate, in contrast, has multiple bones.
What did he do to her?
I curse the plane for not taking off on time. I should have been here.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, though my tone must convey that I certainly don’t think this is nice .
After releasing the older man’s hand, I glance back at my wife, and when her eyes meet mine, I know what happened. She got angry and told her father all the things she’s kept bottled up, and his response was, once again, disappointing.
I can’t remember the last time I raised my voice, but I’d relish the opportunity to show how little I think of him, this man who wasn’t the father that my wife needed. It kills me to think of how much he failed her.
However, I know Jane wants to fight this battle by herself. So, I’ll support her, but I won’t interfere.
“Your food is on the counter,” she says to me.
I lift an upside-down bowl to reveal two grilled chicken thighs. I dump some salad on the plate, then sit down at the table. I’m starving, though I’m not in the mood to eat now.
Under the table, Jane’s right hand finds my left, and she squeezes. I squeeze back.
She doesn’t say anything more.
After a long silence, her father stands up. “I should get going.”
My wife appears relieved by this comment, so I stand up with her, and we follow him to the door. He puts on his shoes and grabs his bags, then hesitates with his hand on the doorknob.
“Take good care of her,” he says to me, and I wonder if he has any regrets. He ought to, but I’m not sure he does.
He leaves without waiting for us to respond.
Once he’s gone, Jane starts to tremble, and I wrap her in my arms. It’s a relief to finally touch her properly after being away for two nights.
“I’ve got you,” I say. “I’m here. What do you need?”
She just burrows against me. Seeing her like this makes me ache.
Once she’s stopped shaking, I lead her to the living room, where I sit down on the couch and pull her close. I don’t want to stop touching her, and she seems to feel the same way.
“He was bragging about his other kids,” she says at last. “He talked about going to Kaden’s badminton games. Wishing Peyton hadn’t decided to go to university away from home. I couldn’t take it anymore, after he didn’t come to our wedding.” Tears start leaking out of her eyes. “He said I was so independent, I didn’t need him, I pushed him away as a teenager… I told him I just wanted him to try.”
She looks uncharacteristically fragile, and it wells up in me suddenly, this need to tell her how I feel. The need for her to know that even if her father doesn’t love her the way he should…
I don’t wipe her tears away, but when sobs are no longer racking her body, I push her damp hair back from her face and say, “I love you.”
If she takes those words to mean a platonic love of close friends, that’s fine. I just know it’s important for her to hear it. Her dad hasn’t been there for her, but I will be.
She raises her head. “Until yesterday, nobody had said that to me other than my mom.”
“Yesterday?”
“When I was talking to Claudia.”
“What about your exes?”
She shakes her head. “I said it, but they didn’t say it back.”
“Oh, Jane.” I know how hard it would be for her to take that risk, this woman who felt unwanted in her own family.
At the same time, I’m keenly aware that she hasn’t returned my words.
But that’s okay. I can manage.
She traces my eyebrows with her finger. My jaw. Then her finger moves down to my collarbone. I can barely breathe, but I don’t tell her to stop. I crave her touch. Two and a half days? That was far too long to be without it.
“But before I say it to you,” she whispers, “I need to know how you meant it.”
I feel lightheaded. “I…”
I can tell her the truth. But she’s experienced a lot of emotional upheaval today, and I don’t want to make it worse, and what if…
At my hesitation, the light dims in her eyes.
And I know. I just know.
I know this is different from anything I’ve felt before, and I know she feels it, too, though there’s a part of me that can’t quite believe it.
“I meant it in every way,” I say. “I love you, I’m in love with you, I can’t imagine I’ll ever stop loving you. I didn’t marry you for romantic reasons, but now, I feel like I did, even though I’d sworn it off. I was afraid to tell you because it wasn’t part of our deal…but I do.”
Feeling overwhelmed, I shut my eyes, but then I feel her hand on my cheek. Her thumb gently strokes my skin.
“I love you,” she says, “in exactly the same way.”
Then she kisses me, this wonderful person who’s building a life with me. Who looks amazing whether she’s cutting the grass or doing my makeup.
Who loves me.
Joyous laughter escapes my lips as I open my eyes. When my gaze lands on something across the room, I laugh again. At some point while I was gone, Watson changed his outfit. He was wearing a cape when I left, but now, he’s got a little crown fashioned out of yellow paper.
Jane smiles. “I love all the little things you do for me. All the ways you make me feel cared for. I really missed you when you were gone, even if your trip was short. I woke up alone and drank coffee alone—and I wished you were there with me.”
“You’re not going to get sick of me?”
“I can’t imagine I would. I might have only felt this way for a few weeks, but I’ve known you for a long, long time—and I’m sure.”
Before, I wondered if I’d be able to fall in love with lots of different people, if we were in close proximity like this. Max didn’t think that was true, and now, I’m positive he was right.
Sometimes, you just know.
I pull her close. “I love you so much.” I want to say it again and again.
And I will.