32. Jake
Thirty-Two
Jake
Taylor stares back at me. Her face is hard, but her eyes betray her, revealing the hurt she feels. I so desperately want to pull her into my arms and somehow magically make all of this okay, but I know I can’t.
Behind her, the aspiring fighter pilot stands in a similar position, arms crossed, face hard, only she’s giving me the stink eye suggesting she’s not hurt, she’s pissed. But then she waves her hand at me, cocking a brow as if to say, “What are you waiting for, idiot?”
“Can we talk?” I ask, my gaze moving back to Taylor as I gesture to the table outside.
She nods and follows me over to it, both of us sitting on opposite sides of the table across from each other.
“You look like you wanna kick me in the nuts,” I say, offering her a small smile.
Taylor cocks a brow. “Is that why you put the table between us?”
I let out a small laugh. “I’ll come around there and let you do it if it’ll help you forgive me.”
I watch as she rests her elbows on the table, arms up and fingers locked together as she leans down and rests her chin on her hands. “And what exactly am I forgiving you for?” she asks, still not smiling. “Being married or lying to me about it?”
I exhale a hard breath. “Taylor, babe,” I say, not missing the way she flinches. “I’m really sorry, seriously, so fucking sorry.”
She takes a long, deep breath in, letting it out slowly as she stares back at me. “I trusted you, Jake,” she says, the words barely audible.
“I know,” I say, resting my hands on the table. “And I know how hard it is for you to do that. How much I’ve broken that trust now because I was so fucking stupid.”
Taylor stares at me, her face impassive, her mouth set in a firm line. I focus on her eyes, searching them for any sign that she believes me, that she can somehow forgive me. That she could possibly take me back and give me another chance.
“Are you going to tell me your side of the story then?” she asks, swallowing hard.
I nod, shuffling closer on the bench seat as I inch my hands closer to her. “Yes,” I say, my eyes locked with hers. “I’m going to tell you everything.”
Taylor nods, her tongue slipping out to wet her lips before she draws her bottom one between her teeth and waits for me to start.
So I take a deep breath and I do, knowing how much is riding on this.
“When I was in the Air Force,” I start, pausing for a second, because it’s been a long time since I told this story and I’m still not sure how it’s going to affect me. “I flew combat,” I say. “Iraq, Afghanistan, twice. Saw a lot of shit. Did a lot of shit,” I add, shrugging as if it’s no big deal, when it’s the total opposite. “I was a fucking mess when I got back.”
Taylor shifts in her seat now, lowering her hands to the table as her face softens a little. She doesn’t say anything though, just sits silently, waiting for me to keep talking.
“The last time I was over there, we got called in on a strike run,” I say, forcing myself to sit still, to remember what they told us when you feel the panic starting. I take a deep breath, swallowing hard before continuing. “Some guys on the ground were trapped and they…they needed a way out.” I look away, my eyes watching as a Learjet taxis down to the end of the runway and prepares for takeoff. I hear the sound of its engine powering up and I turn back, find Taylor still watching me.
“Anyway, the call was off,” I say. “There was some confusion and radio interference and…” I pause, scrub a hand across my jaw. “The strike…it was, it was the wrong place and people died. Our people died.”
“Jake,” she says, her hand reaching halfway across the table toward me.
I look at it, lying on the wood between us, desperate to take it in mine. “Yeah, it was pretty fucked,” I say, shaking my head. “Anyway, I got out not long after that, but as you can imagine, my head was a mess. PTSD,” I add, shrugging a little.
“Jake,” she says again, all anger gone now as she hears this part of the story. “I’m so sorry.”
I offer her a smile. “It’s okay, I’m better now,” I tell her. “They made us get help and I hated it at first, but it did help, it does help.”
Taylor nods. “I’m really glad.”
“Anyway,” I say, glancing over as the Learjet lifts off the ground and climbs into the sky. “That’s where I met Maggie,” I continue. “At the therapy thing they make you do.”
“She was in the military too?”
I shake my head. “No, well, she worked for the Department of Defense, but she wasn’t in the military.”
Taylor nods but says nothing.
“They warn you about making major changes in your life. You know, no relationships, no change of job, blah blah blah, but I don’t know. She just got it somehow,” I say. “Got that I didn’t want to talk about what I’d seen, what I’d done.” I stop, knowing I just need to get this shit out and stop making excuses for it all.
“We hooked up quickly, not long after we met. We knew it was wrong, but you know, it was a rush at the time, and it felt good just to feel something again,” I say, talking quickly now. “She was moving to L.A. afterward, asked me to come. Vegas was on the way, and it just felt like the right thing to do at the time,” I say, shrugging. “Six weeks later I started training to fly commercial planes and she started cheating on me.”
I flatten my hands on the table, inches from Taylor’s. Neither of us moves or says anything, but I know I still owe her more.
“It wasn’t a real marriage. I’ve never even felt like I was married,” I say, looking up to find she’s watching our hands now. I pause for a second, just to watch her, to drink in the sight of her again. “I never loved her, and she never loved me. It was a mistake that came from a dark place and we both knew it.” I pull my hands back, take a deep breath. “But that’s not an excuse, and I still should’ve told you about it. About her.”
“Yeah,” Taylor says, lifting her eyes to mine. “You should have.”
I nod. “I wanted to,” I tell her. “I thought…fuck, when we were doing the whole yes, no thing in Sydney and I asked you if you had ever been married…” I pause, exhaling hard. “I thought you’d ask me the same question.”
“So, it’s my fault,” she says, pulling her hands back now.
I reach for them, covering them with mine. “No, it is not your fault,” I say. “Not your fault at all. I should’ve told you. I should’ve owned up to it and told you.”
Taylor nods as she gently pulls her hands from mine. “Why was she at your house?”
I shove a hand through my hair. “She finally agreed to sign the divorce papers I’ve been sending her for the past year,” I say. “We’ve been separated for sixteen months, Taylor. I haven’t been with her in any way in all that time. Hadn’t seen her up until the day she showed up at my house. The divorce will be finalized any day now.”
Taylor nods again but says nothing.
“She means nothing to me, Taylor,” I say, and even I can hear the pleading in my voice.
Another nod.
“But you do,” I tell her. “You mean so much to me, and I’m sorry I never told you. I’m sorry I broke your heart like that, destroyed the trust you had in me.”
She nods again but still says nothing.
“Ugh,” I groan, standing as I walk around to her side of the table. “Will you just kick me in the balls already?” I say, arms out in invitation. Taylor glances up, a brow cocked. “Please,” I say, giving her a small smile. “Punish me, make me hurt like I know you are.”
She finally smiles, shaking her head as she stands and faces me, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m sorry about what happened,” she finally says. “Back when you were…”
“It’s all good,” I say. “I promise.”
“I wish you’d just told me, though,” she says.
“I know,” I reply. “I wish I had too. I think I just… I don’t know. I hated that I’d fucked up that bad. It was such a train wreck, the whole thing, and…”
Taylor scoffs a little. “And you think my marriage wasn’t?”
Now it’s me nodding as I step closer and put my hands on her arms. I feel her stiffen beneath my touch, but she doesn’t pull away, and I take that as a promising sign. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper. “I know I fucked up, and I know that you know better than anyone what a shitty marriage can look like. But please believe me when I say I will never, ever lie to you again. Will never keep secrets from you again.”
I step closer, so there are only inches separating us. Taylor looks up at me, her eyes meeting mine. Neither of us says anything, just watches each other.
“I’m sorry,” I eventually whisper.
“I know,” she says. “I just…”
“Please don’t give up on us,” I whisper, cutting her off.
Taylor takes a deep breath. “I’m not,” she finally says. “But I just…I just need some time, okay?”
My heart sinks in my chest, but I force myself to smile, to nod, and say, “I get it, and I can do that for you.”
She offers me a small smile. “Thank you.”
I nod, dropping my hands from her arms but not moving away. Before I can change my mind, I lean in so my mouth is against her ear, as I close my eyes and breathe her in. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Taylor sways a little, her hand moving to my chest as if to steady herself. We both freeze, neither of us moving, neither of us sure what happens next. It feels so good to be touched by her again, just to be close to her.
“Taylor! Jake!”
At the sound of our names, we pull back, our eyes meeting again. Taylor tries to fight a smile but doesn’t and I find myself smiling back at her.
“Are we learning about these gauges or what?” Sofia shouts.
“Yes!” Taylor shouts back over her shoulder as she rolls her eyes.
I chuckle. “Kinda reminds me of someone, that one,” I say.
Taylor cocks a brow. “Is that so?”
“Mmm hmm.”
She purses her lips because she knows exactly who I’m talking about. She looks so fucking sexy, though, and it literally takes everything I have in me not to lean in and kiss her.
“You coming then?” she asks, completely surprising me.
Our eyes lock, and for a second, she looks at me the way she used to, and my god, I just want to pull her into my arms and kiss her until she forgives me, until she forgets all about my ex-wife and the bullshit surrounding that.
“Sure,” I say, smiling.
“Well, let’s go then,” she says and together we turn and walk over to the hangar to help the girls.
We spend the afternoon running through plane mechanics with the girls. I follow Taylor’s lead, not interrupting, not cutting in and not doing anything to undermine what she’s telling these girls.
She knows her shit, and I remember how she spoke when she first saw my ‘Vette back in Sydney, how she told me her dad was a mechanic who loved fixing up cars. It’s actually kind of hot listening to her talk about gauges and electronics and I find myself sitting here, enraptured like the rest of the class.
Afterwards, the girls help us pack everything away, Sofia sauntering up to me, a wrench in her hand and a dangerous look on her face.
“So,” she starts, and I watch as she throws up the wrench before catching it in her hand. I have to force myself not to laugh.
“So,” I reply back to her.
“Have you two sorted things out?” she asks, nodding in Taylor’s direction.
I grab the wrench from her hand and hang it back on the tool board. “Who says there’s anything to sort out?”
Sofia rolls her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. “Please,” she starts.
I chuckle, not wanting to admit to anything because I have no idea what, if anything, Taylor has admitted to. These girls are kids and while I’m all about teaching them life skills and shit, I’m not sure discussing mine and Taylor’s relationship is in their need-to-know basket.
“Look,” Sofia continues. “There’s clearly something going on. Taylor was super sad when she came in this afternoon and didn’t want to talk about it. Then you show up and while she looked, I don’t know, like weird about that, she’s definitely been happier since you’ve been here.”
I lift a brow. “Is that so?”
“Hmm mmm,” she replies, nodding. “We can help you get her back if you want?” she adds when I don’t say anything more.
I laugh. “Who says I need any help?”
She rolls her eyes again, that same what-the-fuck look on her face as before. “Please,” she says dramatically. “Men always need help. I mean, my dad is useless when it comes to understanding why my mom is mad at him.”
I burst out laughing now, loving this kid and her give-no-shits attitude. If there was ever a girl that I knew was going to succeed at achieving her dreams, Sofia would be it.
“I see, and that makes you an expert at all this now, does it?”
Now it’s Sofia smiling, giving me a wink as she leans in to theatrically whisper. “Well, we’ve been talking,” she says, jerking a thumb over her shoulder to the rest of the girls. “And we figure you gotta go big with your apology. I mean showing up here is great and all, but you gotta walk the walk if you know what I mean.”
I have to bite my lip in order to stop myself from laughing again. “Uh huh,” I manage to get out. “So, what did you have in mind?” I ask, knowing I’m already working on a plan to prove to Taylor how much she means to me.
“Well,” she says conspiratorially before she beckons me closer and leans in to outline the plan she and the rest of the girls have come up with.
After she’s told me, I straighten, a smile on my face as I say, “You know what, you might be onto something there.”
Sofia smiles smugly, crossing her arms again as she nods once and says, “Told you so.”