Chapter Thirteen #2
Rea smirked. “With Mr. Craigton? It sounded like you stayed in college long enough to grow quite familiar.”
Jackie gaped at her. “I think I might’ve liked you more when you called me Miss van Moetlier. I’m only kidding,” she added, seeing Rea’s smile flatten. “And yes, I’m having dinner with him. For old times’ sake. That’s all.”
Then, as if she needed to convince herself, she said: “Besides, what do you think could happen? He was literally left at the altar last week.”
Rea shrugged and let out a dreamy sigh. “Lots of things happen in the romance novels I read. This sounds like the beginning of one.”
Jackie glared at her.
A flush crept across Rea’s throat. “Beg your pardon, Miss van Moetlier … Jackie. This is what happens when I start using someone’s first name. I become overly familiar. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t mind, Rea. But maybe don’t share these romantic speculations with anyone. Because there’s truly nothing to it.”
Rea’s lips twitched in a smile. Her face was an open book and what Jackie read was a simple statement that she didn’t believe a word of what she’d just said.
“Of course. It’ll stay between us.” Rea gave a gentle shake to her tin. “Thank you for these again. And enjoy your dinner.”
If someone had walked into Jackie’s room, they could’ve thought that either a tornado swept through it or a particularly careless burglar broke in. More than half the contents of her wardrobe were pulled off the hangers, strewn on every free surface. There was no rhyme or reason to it.
She’d been rummaging through every piece of clothing she owned, trying different outfits on, only to assess her reflection in a floor-length mirror, and decide it wasn’t the right fit.
She shouldn’t have cared about something as trivial as what she wore to a dinner with an ex she hadn’t seen in ten years, should she?
Jackie worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her reflection mocking her.
Smoothing down the material of her light-blue mid-calf linen dress, she spun around, glancing at her back.
The dress had a halter top, leaving the sun-kissed skin on her shoulder blades fully exposed.
She pulled up the fabric to cover the navy band of her strapless bra.
This would have to do. Not only she’d be late if she changed again, but she also had no more clothes left—or at least it felt that way.
With a heavy sigh, she slid her feet in brown leather flat sandals and fluffed up her hair. She was about to walk out of the door when her phone vibrated in her dress pocket.
She smiled at the screen and picked up. “Hi, Mom.”
“Jackie! I’m so glad you’ve answered. We were starting to worry something happened …” She paused, before shouting, away from the microphone: “Fred, she’s fine! Yes, I’m talking to her right now.”
Jackie chuckled. “Say hi to Dad from me.”
Crackles came through the line and Sharon’s voice came back. “I will do, honey. How are things with you? Everything’s good?”
Jackie glanced at the clock on the wall. She would be late if she stayed and talked to her mother, but she really needed to. Mitch could wait. And if he couldn’t, then, well … his loss. He’d understand—at least, the old Mitch would have.
Sinking into the armchair, she rolled a strand of her hair between her thumb and forefinger. “Mitch’s here.”
The moment she said his name out loud, her heart toppled over.
Somehow, telling her mother about it made it feel real.
Before, she could fool herself that she’d stumbled into a dream.
Over the years she’d wished to see him often enough, so maybe her imagination got a bit overzealous.
But this, now, somehow cemented that his presence wasn’t a figment of her grief.
Sharon gasped. “In your room?”
“In the hotel.” A ball of regrets in her throat cut off her air supply. “He’s here on his honeymoon.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. It must be torture to see him with someone else.”
Jackie sighed into the microphone. “It would be, though it shouldn’t. I have no right to feel anything after how I left things between us. But no, he didn’t get married. I’m not sure what happened, exactly. Either way, he’s here on his own.”
Silence stretched over the transatlantic connection. Her parents were in Croatia, unless she’d got their travel dates mixed up. She hadn’t spoken to them for over three weeks, give or take, which was quite unusual. They normally kept in touch, even if it was via text, multiple times per week.
The longest Jackie went without speaking to either of them was right after she dropped out of college and left Mitch.
She needed time to figure things out, to come up with a new plan, when the life she’d imagined was no longer a possibility.
A small, selfish part of her—the part hurting the most at the time—also couldn’t face speaking with her father. Not after what he’d hidden from her.
Sharon’s voice tore her from the memories. “How did it feel, seeing him again?”
How could it feel? A decade had passed, yet Jackie hadn’t forgotten the exact words immortalized in black ink on that stupid note she’d left him. She hadn’t even forgotten the exact spot where two fat tears splashed on the paper.
Mitch,
I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Don’t look for me, please.
Have the best, most extraordinary life. You deserve only wonderful things.
Jackie
She blew out her cheeks. “It’s … strange. I know it’s been ten years. And looking at him, I can see it. But … I don’t know.” She bit down on her tongue, stopping the words at its tip from tumbling out of her.
What was she going to tell her mother? That he was even more handsome than he had been at twenty-two?
That her body was a stinking traitor and disregarded her better judgement every time she was in his vicinity?
Or perhaps that the knowledge they could’ve been so very happy in another life was cutting her heart wide open anew every minute since she’d laid eyes on him again?
Leaving Mitch, the way she did that day, had haunted her from the moment she closed the door to his apartment. She had only turned to look at his sleeping form once, but that millisecond had been enough to shatter her heart completely.
The world had lost color when she woke up the next day to a life without him.
Everything seemed dull, gray and hopeless.
At the time, Jackie lost count of the number of times she curled up in a ball with her head on her mother’s lap, letting her tears flow freely.
She hadn’t forgotten how often her mother had asked if she was sure this was the only way.
“You’ve never stopped loving him, have you?” Sharon whispered, and even though there was an audible question mark thrown in there, Jackie heard it as a statement.
She swallowed down tears. “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”
“Why do you say that? It’s been ten years and you’re still—”
“He’s moved on, Mom. There’s nothing more to it.”
“But he didn’t get married, you’ve said so yourself.”
Jackie inhaled sharply. “He was ready to spend the rest of his life with another woman. A woman he loved, no doubt. Because I know Mitch and—And he wouldn’t propose to anyone he didn’t truly love.” Her voice shook as the realization hit her square in the chest.
This. This was what she had to keep at the forefront of her confused mind. Mitch’s failed wedding and his solo honeymoon weren’t gifts from the universe to rekindle something that was already doomed. It was a reminder that he’d found love again after she’d broken his heart.
“The boy I knew would’ve never stopped loving you, honey,” Sharon said softly.
Jackie drew a lungful of air. “He wants to know why I left.”
Sharon sighed. “Will you tell him?”
“You know I can’t do that. Even though I made peace with it, I can’t put any of it on him.”
“Jackie, listen to me. I’ve never said anything, because I thought it wasn’t my place. You were hurt and went through something horrible. I was there for whatever you needed, without giving you advice or telling you what to do.”
Tears strained at her eyes, as memories swam to the surface of her mind again. “I know, Mom. You were the best. You are the best.”
“But now I must say what I’ve been wanting to for the past ten years.” Sharon’s heavy breath vibrated in Jackie’s ear. “You can’t let fear of what could be dictate the rest of your life. It’s no way to live.”
“It’s not fear, it’s—”
“Nothing more than what-ifs and regrets. You can’t predict these things.”
The impatience lacing Sharon’s voice took Jackie aback.
Ribbons of panic enveloped her chest, squeezing out every drop of air from her lungs.
A trickle of irony moved through her veins.
Sweat slicked her palms. She dragged a trembling hand over her face.
“I have to go, Mom. I’m going to call you another day, okay? Give my love to Dad.”
“I will, honey. Please don’t be angry with me.”
Jackie’s throat worked. “I’m not.”
And she wasn’t. Sharon didn’t say anything that Jackie hadn’t thought hundreds of times. If only it was as simple as her mother made it sound …
She was so lonely and damaged, telling herself she deserved the heartache.
The reason why she left hadn’t disappeared.
It was still there, buried within her, merged with her subconscious, never letting her forget about itself for long.
But it no longer had complete power over her.
She’d grown into it like it was a second skin covering up her old self.
If she really wanted to, she could take a leap into happiness.
“I love you, call us soon.”
“Bye, Mom.”
Jackie dropped her phone onto the coffee table, her hollowed gaze landing on the clock. Shit. She was fifteen minutes late.