Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
JACK
I left my girl after breakfast, even though I wanted to stay.
Her eyes were still red from crying last night, and she still seemed a bit shaken, but there was something more shining in her gaze this morning.
A fire that hadn’t been there before. Hope.
Or the promise of it. It was hard to keep my hands to myself when she was there barefoot in her kitchen, making me breakfast, with a pair of jeans hugging her shape and wild hair setting fire to my senses.
Alaska's the most beautiful and bravest woman I’ve ever met.
Even if I didn’t tell her today, I swore to myself, while she was asleep in my arms, that I would move mountains to find her the best doctors and treatments for her to heal.
As for the legal part, I’ll handle it right now. There’s no more time to waste. They’ve already stolen six years of her life. I’m not waiting another second.
“Captain?” I knock on his wooden door at the end of the corridor, not far from our office.
“Parkson,” he gestures me in, scanning a document in his hand. “What can I do for ya?”
“I…” I clear my throat, his face lifting to weigh me in. “I’ve f-found evidence of the county’s involvement in the d-death of Matthew Jenkins, sir. A t-tape, to be precise, enough to hold them accountable and allow the Jenkins to finally grieve in peace.”
Without losing composure, he orders, “Close the door,” then he leans back in his leather chair, his short hair giving off military vibes, “I know this case, Parkson. Jared and I tried to push it higher, too, but we didn’t have enough leverage back then.
I’m not sure you grasp what it takes to go against the biggest heads in the county. ”
“The t-tape speaks for itself, sir. They must’ve f-forgotten to pack it. If it were, uh, leaked, it’d spread like wildfire. It shows exactly how much at f-f-fault they were.”
“You sure you wanna do that? You could lose it all. They’d sack you. You can kiss any promotion goodbye.”
“I’m sure.”
“Alright…alright. Let’s watch this tape, and then I’ll call my superior.
” I sit and hand him the tape, with a backup already saved to my computer, just in case.
We watch it again, and I clench my jaw as my girl gets crushed on screen.
She was so young. I wish I’d been there.
I wish I could’ve protected her. When the video ends, he leans back, hand under his chin.
“We do have a case, Parkson.” His voice is low and serious.
“We?”
“It’s about time the fuckers above us understand the limits of the law. I’ll take it from here. It won’t be pretty, and I already have a few names in mind that should lose their positions, deservedly so.” Running a hand down his tie, he asks, “Do you know what the family’s asking for?”
“Alaska Jenkins, his s-sister… She w-wants an apology letter and doesn’t want her parents involved in any c-capacity.”
He stares at me in silence. “She’ll get one. And probably a large check too.” He pauses. “Is there anything I should know about your personal involvement?” I stare at him hard, unspoken words burning in my gaze. “I thought so.”
“There’s something else too, Captain.”
“Let me guess, you’re looking for a permanent position as an officer now?”
“Yes.”
“So Lakeside wasn’t that bad after all,” he says, the shadow of a smile tugging at his knowing grin.
“No, sir. It isn’t bad at all.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he replies. “Shouldn’t be hard to keep you on after all the good work you’ve done here.
” Relief washes over me. I’m staying. This means I’ll get to hold Alaska every day from now on.
A weight lifts from my shoulders, one I hadn’t realized was crushing my lungs like a ton of bricks.
“Take a pill, Parkson. You can relax now. You did a good job, son. Now shut the damn door on your way out, I’ve got a ton of calls to make,” he mumbles, waving the tape at me.
“Thank you, Captain.” I salute him and make my way out, walking toward my office, where Jared is standing and putting on his jacket.
“We gotta go, Jack. Some old lady just got her purse stolen at the gas station.” I grin and grab my jacket to follow him out.
“So, what did he say?”
“He said he’d t-take the case upstairs.”
“Good,” Jared says firmly, his serious side shining through. We make our way to our patrol car and slide in. He starts the engine, then glances at me.
“And…about you staying in Lakeside?” I wait a beat.
“Well, he said you’d miss me if I g-go. So he’s keeping me on permanently.” Jared grins as we drive ahead.
“Nah, I wouldn’t have missed ya one bit,” he says, putting the music on. “Alright, maybe a little,” he admits, and I chuckle.
I was wrong all along.
Lakeside wasn’t a stop on my road. It was my destination.
Alaska
“Mom?”
“In here, honey pie!” she calls from upstairs as I step into my family home.
I never liked coming here after the accident.
Matthew was always waiting, lurking in the corners of every room, watching me with daggers in his eyes, accusing me of the worst betrayal.
And no matter how hard I tried to hold on to reality, I used to see little puddles of melted ice wherever he had been.
I hold my breath as I take in the living room on the left.
No sign of him. The kitchen on the right. Still clear.
My heart hammers in my chest as I hesitantly climb the staircase, gripping the banister, each step creaking beneath my weight.
Framed photos line the walls, snapshots of a life that feels so distant now.
One of us as newborns. Another of Matthew sticking his tongue out behind me as I laughed in front of my sixth birthday cake.
A family photo from a mountain hike. I remember being sick that day, but when I told Matthew, he said I’d be a crying baby if I didn’t come.
So I did. I reach the top floor and hear rustling in my parents’ bedroom.
“Your father always finds a way to misplace his socks. It’s unbelievable,” Mom grumbles, chuckling warmly as she digs through the third drawer of the dresser.
I used to love being in their bedroom. I remember crawling between them during thunderstorms or after nightmares. Back when this house was my safe place.
“Oh, there you are, honey,” she says, lifting her head as I hover in the doorway.
Her smile falters. “I... Are you okay?” She frowns.
I force a small smile, “All good.” Only my fingers tingle as my eyes flick toward the corner of the room, where Matthew used to stand, his back against the wall, that cynical smile carved into his face. It’s okay. He’s not here. It’s over.
“I…I was in the neighborhood,” I lie. Mom sees right through me. Pushing off one knee, she stands, her blue eyes searching my face.
“Let’s go downstairs, honey. I’ll make us some tea,” she says, already heading toward the stairs. She’s so pretty in her long burgundy dress, cinched at the waist with a leather belt.
“Sure.” My feet follow out of habit, but just before the stairwell, I hesitate. A glance to the left. The door to Matthew’s room stands closed, untouched.
“Be right there,” I murmur, turning the knob.
Six years of anxiety unravel with the motion of a hand.
Everything inside is exactly as he left it.
The blue bedsheets he refused to trade for new ones.
A poster of his favorite soccer team still hanging above the bed.
His piano, positioned in front of the window, with sheet music left open as if he’d be back any moment to play.
Even the air is different. My steps are slow as I cross the threshold and lower myself onto his bed.
Tears well up, blurring the familiar shapes around me.
“You’re really gone now,” I whisper. Silence answers, but for the first time in years, it doesn’t suffocate me. My lungs expand fully, no longer crushed by the weight of his ghost. So this was really goodbye. A single tear slides down my cheek, and I brush it away.
“I come here from time to time.” Mom’s voice drifts in from the doorway. I hadn’t heard her approach. She’s watching me as I sit on his bed, a gentle smile on her lips, her gaze sweeping across the room with quiet acceptance. There’s peace now in her features where a familiar storm once raged.
“You do?” I ask, my voice trembling. She sighs and steps inside, lacing her fingers together as she takes in the room, the remnants of all the things Matthew once loved.
“I started coming here after the first year,” clasping her hands together, “it was too difficult before. But now, when I miss holding my son in my arms,” her voice tightens, “I come here and sit exactly where you are.” A gentle smile flickers across her lips.
“I took your spot, then,” I say, half-standing.
“It’s okay, honey.” She lifts a hand, motioning for me to stay. “Why don’t you tell me why you really came today? I’m always happy to see you, but…I get the feeling there’s something on your mind.”
I fold my hands in my lap. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“That’s okay.”
A breath catches in my throat. “I’m afraid…to disappoint you.”
“Sweetie…”
“Maybe you should sit, Mom.”
“Okay, okay.” She lowers herself beside me, resting her hands over mine.
“I never told you, but…” I take a deep breath, gathering my courage.
“For the last six years, since…the accident,” my eyes meet hers, “I thought I was the reason Matthew died. I thought it was my fault that I couldn’t break the ice in time.
” My voice is calm, but my fingers brush the scars on my hands.
“It never occurred to me that it was really just an accident, that I had tried my best.”
“Honey…” Her voice breaks. “Why didn’t you tell us? That was never your burden to carry.”
“I didn’t want you to think that after losing one child, your second was the reason you lost him.”
“We would have never—”
“I didn’t know that,” I whisper. “I was so young.”
A small frown creases between her brows, “What made you realize it wasn’t your fault?”
I clear my throat, murmuring, “Jack.”
“I already like him,” she says with a gentle tone. “He seems like a good man, Alaska. I’m happy for you.”
“I am too, Mom.” A tear slips down my cheek. “I thought I didn’t deserve to be happy, but…I am now. I really am.”
She cups my face, brushing my tears away. “Then why are you crying, honey?”
“Because I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you.”
Her brows crease. “Why?”
“Because…I think…I could almost have the life of my dreams, and it would crush me if you disapproved.” Her hand moves in slow, comforting circles on my back, the way she used to when I was little.
“And what is this dream?” I look down, hesitant to meet her gaze.
“You’ve always taught me to be independent, but deep down…
I’ve always dreamed of being a stay-at-home mom.
” The words come out in a breath. “I know you disapprove. I know it’s not what people expect in today’s world.
But as much as I love my bookshop…there’s nothing I want more than to build a family and be at home with them.
” I feel her attention on me, then she looks up at a photo of Matthew on his desk.
It was his first piano recital when he was eleven.
The first time he wore a proper white shirt.
I still remember Dad teaching him how to tie the knot in the bathroom.
She stands and takes the frame in her hands, exhaling as her fingers trace its edges.
“Your father was so proud that day,” she murmurs.
“I remember him tightening Matthew’s tie over and over, even though…
it was already perfect. He wanted him to look just right.
To feel proud of himself.” I stay quiet, watching her.
She turns back to me, her expression unreadable at first. Then, with a tenderness I wasn’t expecting, she reaches for my hands.
“I’ve always wanted you to be strong, to stand on your own, because…I wanted you to have choices.” Her thumb brushes lightly over my knuckles. “If this is your choice, if this is the life you want, then how could I disapprove?”
“You really… mean it?”
“Honey, I may have taught you independence, but I never wanted you to be trapped in it.” She squeezes my hands.
“If being a mother, a wife, is what you dream of, then that is strength too.” She cups my face again, her touch soft, familiar.
“No dream of yours could ever disappoint me, okay, love?” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.
I press myself into her arms and she holds me close, her hand moving in slow motions on my back.
After a moment, she pulls back just enough to look at me, a teasing glint in her eyes.
“So, when do we get to meet this Prince Charming of yours?” Her lips quirk into a smile.
“I have a lot to say to the man who’s made you this happy.
” A watery laugh bubbles from my throat, but she’s not finished, arching a brow.
“Of course, a little sit-down to discuss how to protect your finances properly is non-negotiable. But…other than that, honey, your dad and I support you one hundred percent.” She kisses my temple, and I squeeze her tighter.
“Thanks, Mom,” I whisper. “Thank you so much.” She studies me for a moment, something certain and knowing in her gaze.
“So…he’s the one?”
I hesitate for only a second before nodding. “I think so, yes.” I smile, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. Her expression melts into something tender, like the way she looks when she talks about dad.
“Then let’s make some tea,” she says, pushing herself to her feet.
“And you can tell me all about him.” I follow her into the kitchen, the scent of chamomile and vanilla curling through the air, wrapping around me like an old, familiar embrace.
The house doesn’t feel as cold as I remember.
It changed, or maybe I have. Until now, I hadn’t realized how much I missed this, coming back to my childhood home.
I move through it like an archaeologist uncovering a lost treasure I once believed was buried forever.
Only it was never truly lost.
It was here all along, waiting for me to find my way back.