Chapter 21
twenty-one
JORDAN
I’m standing on top of a jagged rock, overlooking one of California’s most beautiful waterfalls, my very kissable wife tucked under my arm…and wow. This is my life.
“It’s so gorgeous,” Marilee whispers. “So quiet too.”
“That’s the thing I love most about getting lost in nature.” After waking up to the sun streaming all around us from outside the tent, we snuggled for a bit before getting dressed and eating stuffed French toast at the dining dome. We have to head home in a few hours, but I wanted to check out a hike in the area, another activity to add to my tour itinerary if I take Mitchell up on the offer he presented to me at breakfast—a very lucrative offer that has my insides twirling with possibilities.
Somehow, things are all coming together with my career…and the rest of my life too.
I continue. “The peace I can find here. The way it silences my mind.”
“That’s how I feel when I’m baking.”
I squeeze her shoulders. “I know.”
She smiles. “You think you know everything about me, huh?”
“No way.” Leaning down, I give her a gentle kiss. “But I’ll always want to know more.”
Lee grows quiet, contemplative again, as we take in the view, breathe in the clean air. The water below us cascades from two main points, converging into a pond eighty feet below that Mitchell says is swimmable in the summer. An entire forest of sycamores and oaks grows up around the falls. Squirrels scurry up their trunks, birds twitter in their branches, and moss grows on the rocks at their bases. The ground is soft from the rain, but yesterday’s sun dried it enough so it’s not muddy.
I’m honestly surprised we’re the only ones up here, but you won’t find me complaining. This is our own little retreat, our haven from the world. Last night was incredible, but I’m not dumb enough to think that everything’s solved between us. Not only that, but court’s just two days away.
And Marilee is still quiet.
Removing my backpack, I set it on a rock and lower myself to the hard ground, tugging on her hand. “Whatcha thinking about now?”
“Hmm?” She joins me, bringing her knees into her chest. “Oh. Nothing.” A shiver racks her body despite the rays of the mid-morning sun.
I reach into my backpack and remove an extra hoodie—the one she stole from me that I found hanging out of her suitcase this morning. It made me smile to see it there, mingled with all of her other clothes. Like it belonged. “Unacceptable answer.” I set the jacket over her shoulders.
“That’s rather bossy of you.” But she smiles, and I know she doesn’t mind. “And thank you. For keeping me warm.”
“I can keep you warm other ways too, you know.”
She laughs and bumps me with her shoulder. “Yeah, I know .” And yet, she doesn’t move any closer.
“Okay, spill. Unless you really aren’t ready to talk. But I can tell something’s bugging you.”
The gentle rush of the water fills in the cracks of her hesitation. “I’m worried about court. Aren’t you?”
“Of course. But we have to trust our attorney, right? And he thinks we’ve got a solid defense. I cannot fathom a world in which a judge would take Ryder away from us.” And yes, I said us, because I’m hoping…praying…she decides to stay. “Is that really what you’re thinking about? Or is there more?”
She sighs and closes the jacket tight around her, over her whole body, her knees, as she huddles. “You really do know me, huh?”
A bird of some sort swoops into a nearby tree. I freeze, thinking it might be a bald eagle, but I can’t be sure. Either way, the possibility is there, hanging out, so close we could snap a photo.
But Marilee’s my focus right now, and I have a feeling I know why she’s feeling unsettled. I place my hand on her back and make soothing circles there. “Yes, but I’d like to hear it from you.”
“It’s just everything, I guess. The custody battle, taking over the bakery. Not even sure I really want that. And then… Last night was amazing, but it’s a lot, you know?”
“I know. But we can figure it out. Like we said, we’re not in a rush. We love each other. That’s enough for now.”
“But what if it’s not enough forever?”
“That’s the thing, Lee. It’s not.”
Her head swivels, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”
“Love itself isn’t enough.”
“What else is there, then?”
“Choice. Love is an emotion, sure, but it’s also a choice. And when the hard times come, sometimes we might not feel in love. But the couples who survive those times survive because they choose to stay together. Choose to work it out.” The bird flies away, toward a rocky outcropping that’s higher than we are. “Take my parents. My dad is a hard man to live with. Once, I asked Mom why she’s stayed with him. She told me just what I’m telling you. Love is a choice, and if the person you’re with is good-willed and not abusive in any way—even if they’re not perfect—you can get through anything.”
She lays her cheek on her knees and looks over at me. Her glasses are slightly crooked, and it’s adorable, but it’s her eyes that grab me. So big, so full of vulnerability. “A choice. I like that. And it’s something I never had with Donny. Something I never thought I had, anyway.”
I nod. “But I want you to know something, okay? You will always have that with me.”
She bites her lip. Waits while I continue. “Just because we are technically married right now doesn’t mean we have to stay married if you decide this isn’t what you want.” It hurts to look at her while I say this, so my gaze wanders, finding peace in the beauty surrounding us, the proof that there’s a bigger something out there holding it all together when my shoulders feel too heavy. “Obviously, things have changed since our original agreement, but I won’t trap you, Lee. It has to be your choice. As for me and what I want…”
Well, I don’t think I need to say it out loud. She has to know.
“Jordan?” Her hand finally reaches out for mine. “Why did it take you so long to finally tell me you loved me?”
“Guess I didn’t want to rock the boat and lose you. Life had already taught me that speaking up about something I wanted might cause irreparable rifts between me and the people I love.”
“What happened to make you think that?”
“Well, there was the time my dad told me to go to college away from here, so he didn’t have to hear me ‘harp at him’ over his drinking anymore.”
“That was totally out of line.” She squeezes my hand. “Any other instances?”
“I don’t know.” I squint, think. “I remember when I was maybe eleven, and we had to move yet again for Dad’s job. I pleaded with him to change his mind—I knew it wasn’t totally his decision, but thought maybe…” The water falls into the pond below, and even if I can’t hear it, I’m hyperaware of the thrashing it makes at the bottom. “Anyway, I didn’t want to leave another school, to leave the friends I’d just made. Dad said it was selfish of me to speak up when this job was what kept a roof over all of our heads. Told me that throwing a tantrum wasn’t going to change anything, so I might as well be quiet and have a good attitude about it.”
“Aw, Jay. I’m sorry.” She sighs. “I wish your dad had been more understanding. You were just a kid.”
“At least he bothered to say something at all.” I huff out a sardonic laugh. “It was almost nice to get his attention for once.”
Marilee hmms. “I remember you told me he never came to any of your school programs or track meets, right?” Her long, lithe fingers—capable of creating and giving so much love—stroke the veins at the top of my hand. At my nod, she continues. “I’m so sorry he wasn’t there for you.”
“I got used to it.” But did I, really? Or did his absence, in mind and body, become like a splinter in my nail bed that got infected and festered until the nail stopped growing…and I stopped remembering it was supposed to?
“Was he always an alcoholic, or just after his injury?” she asks.
“I have a few memories of him laughing, going with us to the park, that kind of thing, when I was super young. He was a good dad back then. But after his deployments, that dad disappeared. I don’t remember him drinking until the injury that ended his career, but he found other ways to escape before that.”
“What do you mean?”
“He worked all the time. And even when he was home every night, he wasn’t really there, you know? He ate dinner most nights in relative silence. Even when Mom would try to engage him in conversation about what she’d done that day, or what me or Claire had learned at school, he just sat there shoveling food into his mouth and staring at us, grunting. Or he’d watch TV. Or just…disappear into his office and work some more.” I scrub a hand down my face. “It’s why I hate working so much now, why I’ve been trying to find a way to be home more with Ryder. Love means showing up, and even though my dad didn’t show up for me, I’ll be darned if I do the same thing to Ryder. I want him to tell me every single thing he does, to know that I’m going to be there whether he messes up or is victorious. It’s why it kills me that Constance and Larry think…”
“I know. But I meant it when I told Sam you’re the best dad in the world. I wish my own dad had been half as encouraging as you are to Ryder.” She tries for a smile. “I loved him, but he wasn’t perfect. No father is, and I’m sure yours loves you even if he doesn’t know how to show it.”
“If my dad did love me once upon a time, it’s hard to see it now—not when he’s never there for anything important in my life.”
“Maybe he’ll surprise you one day.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I say it with zero conviction in my voice. “But I’ve learned to stop expecting it. And stop asking for it. Makes it easier than being constantly disappointed. Or worse, him pulling even deeper into his abyss.” A small lizard darts across the rocks near the waterfall’s edge, bringing me back to the present. Back to why we’re even talking about this in the first place. “So—in an extremely large nutshell—I guess that’s why I put off telling you how I felt for so long, even after you and Donny ended.”
“I understand.” She takes her time, blinking at the ground. “With that fear weighing on your mind, it’s a wonder you ever got the courage to beg me to leave Donny that night almost six years ago.”
Oh, that night. The night that changed everything for me. The night we’ve never spoken of until two evenings ago in our hotel room.
The night of my biggest regret. But also, one of my biggest joys. It all mingles together.
And I can’t avoid talking about it anymore.
“Ironically, that was my pathetic attempt to tell you how I felt. I just wanted you to know that there were people out there who loved you. That you didn’t have to put up with someone who made you cry.”
I can still picture it. I’d just moved back to Hallmark Beach not long before that. We hadn’t kept in super close touch while I’d been away—probably because of Donny—but when I found out Marilee’s parents had died, I realized everything that was important to me existed in that tiny town and made plans to return after business school.
So I graduated, moved back, started up Go Round Adventures, and hung around with Marilee as much as I could without disrespecting her marriage and causing a wedge between her and Donny. But the jerk did that all on his own.
“When I started to see how he treated you—the little things he’d say, the way you’d hide yourself away, the fact he was spending all of your money on gambling and other women—I got really concerned. And then, that night, I found you curled on your couch, a shell of the vibrant woman I knew, crying, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to speak up.”
“And I rejected you.” Her eyes go misty. “That night…I’d just miscarried for the first time the week before, Jay. And when I finally told Donny, he laughed it off. Said it would be fine, that we could just have another go round in the sack, make another baby—” Her words cut off and she shudders out a breath.
I want to hold her, but I give her space to speak. To remember. To process.
Her voice is small but strong when she continues. “And when I told him I wasn’t able to…that it might be a while before I could…he got angry. He didn’t touch me, didn’t throw anything, but his eyes went all cold, and he grabbed his keys and said not to wait up for him. Then he went out the front door all calm. And I just knew that he was going somewhere to find someone who could give him what he wanted.”
“That’s so messed up, Lee. He should have held you, should have cried with you, should have reassured you it wasn’t your fault.”
“I know.” She sniffs. “That was the first time I realized he was probably cheating on me. I mean, there were signs before that, but I always thought—no. Not Donny. We’re high school sweethearts. Meant to be. He wouldn’t do that to me. Pretty stupid, huh?”
“It’s not stupid to believe in love. He just wasn’t worthy of your love. That’s all on him, not you.”
“I know that now—in my head, at least. But back then, I just couldn’t see it. So when you showed up and were against him, I defended him because, well, I couldn’t face the truth that I’d chosen so poorly. Couldn’t face the idea of another loss. Of another failure. But you didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry. I’d go back and change it if I could.”
“I’ve already told you it’s okay, Lee. Do I wish you would have gotten out of that situation sooner? Yes, but for your sake, not mine. Besides, I’m not sorry, because everything that happened led us here. It led to Ryder, to me becoming a dad, however different a path than I saw it happening. It led to us, being a family. So in the end, all things worked together for good.”
Her mouth hangs open.
And it takes me a moment to figure out why. At the same time, she asks, “What do you mean, it led to Ryder?”
And I know it’s time to tell her the truth—the whole truth about what happened that night. All my cards on the table. All my mess spilled out.
I can only pray it doesn’t change how she feels about me. Though I wouldn’t blame her if it did.