“She told me it wasn’t a good idea. It was too soon.” Jess’s voice cracks. “I’d just gotten out of Beckley. She and Craig needed more time. I needed more time to…to get my life together.”
“How much time?” My voice comes out harsher than I expected, and it’s directed at the woman who has Jess’s bruised heart in her hands.
“Grace didn’t say. She had to go help Amelia find her missing sandal. But ever since I told Robyn what happened, I’ve been working at getting my life on a better footing.” Jess shrugs, her shoulder brushing mine. “I mean, other than the part about me hiding Violet and Sophie in my house. Anyway, I’m almost ready to ask Grace if I’m together enough for her to let me see Amelia. I’m going to ask her soon.”
I kiss the top of Jess’s head, wishing I could protect her from the world that has let her down in so many ways. “You obviously love Amelia, and it sounds like you were a great mom. Would you like to have more kids one day?” I’ve asked her the same question previously, but that was before I found out she had been a mother prior to her life taking a hard turn. I’m curious if her answer has changed.
“I don’t know. It hurts not having Amelia in my life. I’m not sure I could survive losing any more children. Loving someone is the best feeling in the world. Losing them isn’t.”
I close my eyes against the truth of her answer and the underlying message clawing at my heart. She’s scared of love.
She once loved her husband, and that didn’t end well. She loved her mother, but her mother didn’t love her enough to stick around. She loved her grandmother, but her grandmother died. She loves Amelia, but the sacrifices she made for the little girl have crushed Jess. Crushed her and left her dealing with the loss of the one person she loves the most.
I open my eyes. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly.Not willingly, anyway.
But maybe that’s the point to what she’s been telling me. I love her, but she’s not planning to give me her heart. She’s not interested in taking that risk. In the end, I could lose her like she’s lost people she’s loved.
My chest tightens, a vise whose handle has been turned one too many times. If she doesn’t want to have kids, doesn’t want to let me in, what kind of a relationship can we have? I have no words, no suggestions to make things better. For me. For Jess.
Jess flips onto her elbows. A smile curls onto her face, so full and sweet, but the sadness in her eyes guts me.
She cups my face in her hand. I turn my head and kiss her palm.
She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dispute what her eyes are telling me. That she’s not sure she can ever give her heart away again. And I don’t push the topic.
I once fought the enemy in Afghanistan. Faced life and death situations there. But right now, Jess is the strong one. I’m the coward. A coward because I’m afraid of rocking the boat of what we have between us.
Afraid of tipping it over and losing everything.
Of losing Jess.
7
JESSICA
August, Present Day
Maple Ridge
“You’ve been busy,”Robyn says late Saturday morning. We’re sitting in her office, and I’ve just explained everything that has happened since I saw her three weeks ago.
“You could say that,” I reply. “I’m just happy it’s over and Violet is free of her husband. She no longer has to live each day in fear.” As long as justice gets it right, and he ends up doing time. A very long time.
“How about you?”
I shift on the couch and focus for a second on the tall ficus in the corner of the room. I haven’t figured out yet if it’s real or fake. I’m almost tempted to walk over and check. “What about me?”
“Do you still live each day in fear?” Robyn’s gaze is all knowing, and I inwardly wince. Not much has changed, even after I was released from prison. My body is programmed to expect the worst and constantly hovers in fight-and-flight mode.
The one thing that has changed is, I can now hang out with Noah during Game Night and not have a panic attack.
“I guess so. There was an article inUSA Timesthe other day that pointed out I now live under a different name in a small Oregon town. It had a recent photo of me. People will soon figure out I’m Savannah Townsend.” And changing my hair color once more won’t prevent that—not when the scars on my face are difficult to hide.
“And you’re concerned?” Robyn’s tone is smooth and gently coaxing.
“Yes.” I explain what it will mean if people learn where I spent the past five years—how they’ll ostracize me. How I’ll be isolated again. “I’m trying to start over and work on my mental health, like you suggested. That’ll be hard to do if people have an issue with my past. Which will happen.”
“You need to work on your mental well-being and focus on yourself so you can regain the sense of power stripped from you over the years. Part of that lost sense of power came from the trauma bond that developed during your marriage.”
