BEFORE

Chapter 24

JACK

To Mrs. Gee's credit, she stayed clear of me as I moved through the kitchen like a madman. Pummeling dough. Hammering steaks. Kneading bread until every joint in my hands ached.

But it was nothing on the ache in my chest.

Jess loved me.

Loved me so much she'd give up her entire life to stay if I asked her.

When she'd told me, my heart had stopped. I hadn't been able to breathe. I couldn't comprehend someone could care for me that much let alone want to give up everything to be with me.

I was a drifter bum with no ties to anyone or any place.

Jess was in her first year at uni with so many options.

I was blue collar. She was cashmere and pearls.

But none of that mattered to her and that's what humbled me the most: that she saw past my tough outer shell and believed in the real me. The guy with hopes and dreams of making it big in the culinary world. The guy who secretly liked chick flicks. The guy who would give anything to have a girl like her by my side.

Yeah, I loved her too. Loved her so much I had to let her go.

No way would I be responsible for her giving up her dreams to follow mine on a whim. I had no idea what awaited me in Sydney. How long my savings would last with the exorbitant rental prices. What kind of hovel I'd need to live in while I worked manic hours at the restaurant.

Jess deserved better than that. Way better. The thought of her leaving her life, her family, behind for me, was unbearable.

Simply, I had nothing to offer her.

The best thing I could do for her was to let her explore the world on her own. Develop into her own person. And try my damndest to forget I'd passed up the opportunity of a lifetime, to have her with me.

"The Harpers are leaving." Mrs. Gee took the meat knife out of my hand. "Don't you want to say goodbye?"

"Already have," I grunted, willing my voice not to betray the utter devastation making me almost shake at not seeing Jess again.

Mrs. Gee tut-tutted. "Well, I'm going outside to see them off." She sent me a pointed glare. "It's only polite."

I waited until she shuffled out of the kitchen before I pulled the letter out of my pocket.

I couldn't go outside to farewell Jess without doing something first.

A pot of chicken chasseur simmered on the stove and I stuck an edge of the letter into the burner, waited for it to catch, before heading for the sink.

As the letter flamed, I'm sure my heart cracked wide open, the pain was that bad.

When my fingers were in danger of being scorched, I dropped the remnants into the sink and watched it turn to ashes.

Ironic. The first and only time I'd ever been honest with a woman, I'd watched it go up in smoke.

If deliberately pushing Jess away had been the hardest thing I'd ever had to do, burning that letter had come a close second. And now I faced a third.

Saying goodbye in public to the woman I loved.

And pretending I didn't love her at all.