Chapter 24
JAXON
What the fuck was that?
My heart was thundering even after Lindsay fell asleep. It had nothing to do with the physical effects of sex anymore, and everything to do with having had the most feelings I’d ever had while fucking someone. On the other hand, I knew what fucking was, and that hadn’t been it.
We hadn’t known each other nearly long enough for it to have been the other thing, so it had to have been something between the two. I’d accepted it, though.
That wasn’t what was keeping me awake. The reason why I couldn’t sleep was because of the pain I’d heard—even in her whisper—when she’d told me she didn’t want to say goodbye to me tomorrow.
I didn’t really want to say goodbye to her either. If we had two more weeks together on this island, I doubted I’d even be ready to say goodbye then.
The alternative, however, didn’t bring me any joyous thoughts either. Moving carefully so I wouldn’t wake her, I went to get my phone and checked the flights back to Houston again.
Yesterday between all the arrangements I had to make, I’d scrolled through the options and decided to choose one later. If I was being completely honest, I hadn’t wanted to book my flight because that would’ve put a definitive end time to my little adventure in the life of a man married to Lindsay.
I’d promised her time and time again that I wouldn’t let her get hurt, though. I told her I would protect her and asked her to trust me. Every time I’d asked, she’d put her faith in me and agreed to whatever it was I had asked of her.
Now it was time to earn that trust. That faith she’d put in me. I owed her that much. Even if it was myself I had to protect her against, or the hurt I would inflict on her if she had to say goodbye.
As quietly as I could manage, I rifled through my bag and pulled on a pair of pants, made a cup of coffee, and carried my phone and the hot drink outside. I figured there was even less of a chance of me disturbing her when I wasn’t even in the bungalow.
The beach was deserted at this hour, and it just about ripped a hole into the very fabric of my being when I realized this was the last time I would see it like this. With Lindsay pretending to be my wife in the room behind me anyway.
I already knew that no return trips I might make here would be the same. This was the end of the line for Lindsay and me, and this place, as beautiful as it was, would always be empty to me without her.
Walking to the beach, I sat down on the sand and sipped my coffee while I got the unavoidable done with. I needed to do this—for both of our sakes.
The first flight out was in just a few hours. It was on a different airline, but I knew a few people who worked there, and despite the time, I had my ticket sitting in my email inbox ten minutes later.
I finished my coffee slowly, lost in thoughts and memories and doubts about whether I was doing the right thing. Lindsay being upset tomorrow was the last thing I wanted. I wanted her to have a good memory of me, and it was probably best if my big romantic gesture was it.
While I’d been in town to choose the dress, I’d had a photo of us printed off my phone and bought a handcrafted frame for it to go in. In the picture, our cheeks were pressed together while we sat on the beach one afternoon, and we were both smiling like we’d never been happier.
Slight stubble dusted my chin on the image, my eyes vibrantly alive and my features relaxed. I knew it was probably one of the best pictures I had of myself, but I also knew it was only because she was in it.
God, those eyes. Even though the picture had been taken days ago, I felt like she was peering straight into my soul. Her mouth was tipped into a smile, and I remembered the joke I’d made just before.
Her nose was slightly wrinkled, but I recalled the exact moment it’d scrunched up when I’d whispered the dirty joke into her ear a millisecond before I’d snapped it. In that moment, neither of us had been thinking about this day. The day when we’d have to face the realities of going back home.
We both had jobs to get back to. Lives that wouldn’t wait on us forever. But in that moment, that had been our life and it’d been pretty fucking good.
Quietly pulling the framed copy I’d had made for her out of my bag once I got back inside, I padded back into the bedroom and put it down on top of her suitcase. With yet another task done before it was time to leave, the weight in my stomach became heavier and heavier.
This is really fucking happening. I’m leaving. It’s over.
When I’d approached her and asked her to play along that first day in the lobby, I hadn’t thought it would hurt when the time came to go home. But it did.
I was no stranger to pain, and I’d endured my fair amount of it, but this was different. It felt like someone was taking a blowtorch to my insides and wouldn’t fucking let up when I said mercy.
I gathered my things without making a sound, efficiently wiping every trace that I’d ever been here from existence. The sofa-bed wasn’t even rolled out anymore, considering that I’d only used it the first couple of nights.
Once my duffle and my backpack were packed, I gave the bungalow a last onceover and noticed my dirty mug standing there. With a heavy heart, I walked over to the sink and rinsed it out, removing even that.
When Lindsay woke up, it’d be like I’d never even been here. That was the best I could do for her. If she didn’t want to say goodbye, I wouldn’t leave anything behind for her to say goodbye to.
Except the picture.
Because I couldn’t simply erase the whole week. I just couldn’t. I wanted her to have something tangible to remember me and the memories we’d made. That picture was the best representation of those memories I’d been able to find.
Softly letting the door click shut behind me, I walked away from her feeling like I was being flayed from the inside out by that fucking blowtorch. I breathed through the pain, but it was difficult. Much more so than it should’ve been.
I’d been shot, for God’s sake, and that hadn’t hurt as much as leaving her did.
It wasn’t just the pain I had to deal with either.
There was also the intense urge to chuck this fucking plan out the window, run back to the bungalow, crawl into bed with her, and then try to come up with a different plan that didn’t involve us leaving at all.
But I couldn’t.
Because I’d promised, more than once, that I’d always protect her and that I’d never let her get hurt. She hadn’t asked for anything in return when she’d put her faith in me to keep those promises, but she had told me she didn’t want to say goodbye to me today.
So this was what I had to do.
Big Mac was in the lobby when I passed through about an hour before the sun rose, lugging a crate of fresh bread across the floor. His brows lifted when he saw me. Then he broke out in a wide grin.
“Jaxon! What are you doing up so early?” He noticed my bag and studied my face, dropped the crate on a side table, and came over to grip my upper arms with the most serious expression I’d ever seen in his eyes. “Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving,” I said, my voice raspy thanks to the pain I was doing my best to keep bottled up inside. “I have to leave, man.”
“Why?” He frowned deeply. “Did something go wrong last night?”
“Nope. Just the opposite.” I knew Lindsay had told him the truth about us, and I could see the genuine concern he looked at me with. “She said she didn’t want to say goodbye. If I don’t leave now, I’ll still be there when she wakes up. Girl never sleeps in.”
I barked out a laugh, but there was no humor in it. Big Mac obviously knew I was full of shit because he crossed his arms over his wide chest and stared me down.
“Did you speak to her at all last night?”
“Yeah. We talked for hours.” I gave my head a light shake, trying to force those memories from my mind for right now.
If I thought too much about them, I was abandoning my attempt at giving her what she wanted and going straight back to bed.
With my fucking wife. “Look, man, it doesn’t matter.
Nothing has changed since we talked yesterday morning.
We’ve both got to go back to our lives.”
“Why can’t you go back together?” He narrowed his eyes. “You seemed to do everything well together while you were here.”
I ran my hand up and down the back of my head, trying to come up with a good enough answer. “It’s complicated. We’re both really busy back home and she’s been through a ton recently. I’m not adding to that.”
“You don’t look so hot yourself,” he commented.
I shrugged. “I’ll live. It’s not about me anyway. It’s about doing what’s right for her. All I need is to figure out how the fuck I’m going to forget about her.”
“Don’t. It’s as easy as that.” His gaze bored into mine. “You’re sure you’re doing the right thing by leaving, Jaxon? You don’t want to give talking to her one more go?”
“I can’t.” I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. “I’ve made my promises to her, big man. I need to keep ‘em now. It’s better that I’m just a memory for her at the moment anyway, and I really don’t want to hurt her.”
“You’re not making a lot of sense.” He slapped me on the shoulder. “You sure I can’t cook you up a plate of bacon and we can hash it out over breakfast and coffee?”
“No, I have to go.”
He regarded me with what seemed like pain in his own eyes before he wiped his face blank. Sticking his meaty paw into his pocket, he came back with a plain white rectangle of cardboard paper with a number scrawled on it in ink.
“Call me if you ever need me. I’m always available on that number.”
“Thanks for everything, man.”
He enveloped me in a bear hug, thudding me hard on the back before letting me go. “You’re welcome, brother.” He pointed at my aching chest after he took a step back. “Come back here sometime, you hear?”
I forced a grin, not wanting to tell him that while leaving was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done, at this very moment, I couldn’t imagine ever stepping foot inside this lobby again. “Yeah. Maybe. We’ll have to see.”