Chapter 30 – Jael
My cheeks burn hot and tears sting at the corners of my eyes under his harsh tone. I don’t even know what I did wrong, why he’s looking at me like that, why his anger feels like a storm I just walked into without an umbrella.
I called, texted, and left voicemails trying to explain why I had to leave. He ignored them all.
What was I thinking, imagining a world where he wanted to see me again? Where we could pick up the pieces and not bleed all over them.
I had it all wrong, didn’t I? I’m not the woman men choose for the long haul. I’m not the one they fight for once I’m gone. I’m just a detour, a stop along the way to someone better, safer.
Or maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe the pain I caused Rhett when I ignored his calls and messages all those years ago runs too deep to ever scrape out.
Maybe I don’t get to be forgiven for ghosting him years ago.
And I know I shouldn’t blame him for feeling that way…
but standing here now, with his anger pinning me in place, I feel small and raw and at the very end of my rope.
I can’t do this right now.
“I… I need to go,” I say, swiftly turning on my heel and heading back towards my car.
I’m embarrassed. So fucking embarrassed. Yes, I wanted to talk to him and see him but not like this. Not when he’s so damn… angry with me.
“Jael!” Rhett’s voice pierces through the air as I storm off, not stopping to look behind me. “What are you doing?”
Spinning around at my car door, I shoot him a glare. “I thought we could be mature about this. Talk about how I left things, but you’ve ignored me completely the past month! Things were good before I left. I don’t understand what happened? I don’t get why you’re so mad at me.”
“Why are you here?” he demands again, his tone sharp as he steps down from the porch, walking towards me slowly.
He looks unfairly good tonight. The kind of good that makes my stomach knot and my palms itch just to touch him.
But I don’t seem to have that right anymore.
Those light grey jeans cling to his long legs like they were made for him, showing off every lean line, every step of muscle in his thighs.
The navy-blue t-shirt stretched tight across his chest bears his business’s logo, but honestly, no one’s looking at the logo when the fabric strains like that over his shoulders and biceps.
His hair’s longer than when I left, shaggier, brushing the nape of his neck and curling around the edge of the baseball cap he insists on wearing low, shading his eyes.
And God, I wish he’d take it off. I want to see all of him, his full face, the expression in his eyes.
But he keeps it there, like armor, like he’s holding a piece of himself back from me.
I wish he wouldn’t. I wish I knew what he wanted.
I’m so bad at being vulnerable. I felt like I was getting better with him, but now all I feel is weak and small standing in front of him.
“You keep leaving, then coming back, then leaving again. How long are you here for this time before you leave again?”
“I… I don’t know.”
He steps closer and that’s when I see the frustration that’s behind his hazel eyes. “What keeps bringing you back, Jael?”
You.
“Work. Doctor Walker asked me to come back to do a week-long training for their emergency department on some special skills.”
He shakes his head, annoyance written all over his handsome face. “So, you’re just here for a week and then gone again? Back to your ex-fiancé in Richmond?”
That pisses me off. “Not that it matters, but I didn't go back to Virginia to get back together with him. You’d know that if you responded to any of my text messages or phone calls.”
It does matter. It matters so much. Because if Rhett thinks that’s why I left, then that means he ignored every message I sent him because he was mad that I left without talking to him in person first. And that means he thinks I didn’t want more when that’s far from the truth.
His eyes narrow as he assesses me. “Why are you here, Jael?” he asks again, his voice softer this time.
For you but you clearly you don't seem to want me to be.
“I… I don’t know what more to say.”
He chuckles and shakes his head before tilting it to the sky. “You never know, do you? You’ve never gotten it.”
I hate this. I feel cornered and raw, unsure how to handle this vulnerability. I don’t want Rhett to hate me again. I don’t want to fight with him.
“Maybe we should talk another time instead,” I start. I back away slowly, reaching for my car door handle, but Rhett’s quicker.
“No, you don’t get to run away again.” His hands catch my hips, pulling me flush against his body and crushing me tightly against his chest. He smells like sweat and soap. The scent is so simple and masculine, I can feel every part of me melting instantly into his hold.
“You drive me crazy, Jael,” he whispers in my ear before dragging his rough fingertips up the exposed skin on my back.
My skin warms under his touch and goosebumps break out all over my chest. “You always have since that day you first showed up at my front door with your mom, set on ruining my summer plans at fourteen.”
“And what do you think you do to me?” I ask breathlessly as he releases my hips. I meet his gaze head on. “I texted and called you, yet you never returned either. You made me feel like the whole month we spent together was a fever dream. Like it never meant anything to you!”
His hands slide to the back of my neck, strong and insistent, pulling me into him—and then, without warning, his lips crash against mine.
The kiss is rough, edged with frustration and a kind of desperate need that makes my whole-body light up.
For a split second, I try to resist, pulling back because we should talk about this, we need to talk about this.
But then I give in. I can’t not.
With Rhett, touch has never been our problem.
It’s always been our language, the one place we’ve never tripped over words or stumbled into silence.
I melt against him, my chest pressed to his, the heat of his body swallowing me whole as the rest of the world falls away.
His tongue slides into my mouth, claiming, coaxing, and his fingers tighten in my hair, angling my face exactly how he wants it, exactly how he’s always known I’d give it to him.
When he finally breaks away, his breathing is ragged, his gaze much more intense.
“You needed to figure things out on your own. You’ve never listened to me.
I told you Owen was a piece of shit, and I told you Christopher was a piece of shit, too who never saw your value.
You never wanted help from anyone. You never wanted me to protect you, care for you, distract you, but I did it anyway.
Even when you pushed me away. Even when you ignored me after you moved to Richmond, I kept in touch with your mom so that I could know you were safe.
Before I even knew you, Jael, I’ve been looking out for you.
And I’m so damn tired of telling you that and you not believing me. ”
“Rhett, I told you, I didn't go back to Richmond to get back with Christopher, and I didn't ask you to look after me when we were younger.”
“I know that, but damn it, Jael, you needed someone to! Your mom wasn’t protecting you like she should have, and your dad was abusing you.
You had no one but me to keep you safe. And I know you sure as hell would never have asked for help because your ego is bigger than the whole state of North Carolina, but I did it anyway because you needed me to!
And then what did you do?” He presses his hands in front of him, pleading with me.
“You went and gave yourself to Owen like you meant nothing. Like you weren’t the most precious person in my life.
And I know we weren’t dating; you didn’t owe me that, but fuck, I thought that I’d been doing a good job of showing you your worth.
And even the thought of you doing that with Chris again,” he tugs on the back of his neck, his hazel eyes tortured.
“Fuck, when are you going to learn? These guys don’t see you the way that I see you! They don’t know you the way that I do. I see you, Jael. I fucking see you, but when are you going to see me?”
Tears sting my eyes as I take a step back, the weight of the last ten years crashing over me with Rhett’s confession. The mistakes I made, the way I handled it all back then so poorly, and hell, the way I’m screwing it all up now.
I’m hurting Rhett. I’ve hurt Rhett when all he wanted to do was help. I don’t want to anymore, but I can’t seem to help myself. Regret claws at me, sharp and overwhelming as I try to figure out how the hell to make this all right.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jael,” Rhett cries out, his anguish is written all over his face and I feel horrible knowing that I’m the one who put it there.
“I can’t fucking do the last ten years over again.
You keep leaving, and each time you do, I wonder how I’m going to get over it. How I’m going to get past you.”
His eyes lock onto mine, and for the first time, I see it, it’s sadness instead of anger.
It hits me harder than I expect, and before I can process it, he does something I never saw coming.
Without a word, he turns away from me, giving me his back me he heads towards Lainey and Lark’s house.
And that’s when I know, this time I’ve pushed him too far.
My own insecurities, the past that I never dealt with, the childhood wounds, it’s all finally caught up. And I’m about to lose the one person who’s ever loved me if I don’t finally grow up and make things right.
“Rhett, wait, please,” I plead, rushing after him and catching his hand just as he reaches the bottom of the steps.
He shakes his head, not meeting my eye. “Jael, I can’t do this. I can’t have you walking back into my life just to leave again.” His voice is heavy with resignation.
“Please listen to me. Don’t turn away from me.”
“Why?” his voice is soft. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because.” There’s no hesitation in my voice anymore.
I know it in every fiber of my being. I’ve known it for ten years and it’s why I’ve never really let him go.
And it’s why I need to be the one to say this first. Because I’m the one responsible for us not keeping in touch.
And I’m the one who left. Again. “Because I’m in love with you, Rhett Miller. ”
He freezes, his back to me, his hand resting on the porch handle.
“What did you just say?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I nod my head. I’ve known it since I was a child. Knew it when I was back here a month ago, too. I wish I would have said it then.
I love you and I always have.
“I love you, Rhett,” I repeat, louder this time.
Then, in one smooth motion, he turns around, steps toward me, lifts me effortlessly over his shoulder, and starts striding toward his truck.
“Rhett!” I gasp.
I don’t even have time to react before he places me in the driver’s seat, buckles me in, and without saying a thing, fires up the engine. The truck roars to life before he backs out of their driveway and we’re off into the night.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice barely audible above the roar of the engine.
His eyes are fixed on the dark road ahead, his palm landing flat on my thigh possessively. “Back to where it all started.”