TIT FOR TAT

CHAPTER 7/TRANSITIONS

TRANSITIONS

Emily sat on the deck and stared out at the ocean's waves, glinting with pinks and golden crests, reflecting the last few rays of dawn. She sighed, thinking how breathtaking it was.

"You okay?" Jackson asked as she gave a little start.

She smiled up at him and accepted the cappuccino he held out to her. "Sorry, I was entranced with the sunrise."

"Like every morning?"

She put a hand to her eyes and stared up at him. "Yeah, like every morning. I didn't hear the door open and close...you just startled me is all."

"The breakers always seem so loud in the early morning stillness."

"Sit," she ordered, patting the arm of the chaise next to her, wanting the feel of him close.

He sat, tilted his sunglasses from his head to his eyes, took a sip of coffee, reached in his pocket, withdrew her bifocal sunglasses and handed them to her. "You always forget, you know."

She took them gratefully and relished the contentment she felt at this moment. Everything was so perfect. "You're right, as usual. But do you realize how often you say 'always' now? The way you do it...it makes me feel like we've always been together."

"We haven't?"

"Nope."

"Unfortunate."

"Yep."

"Have you told you're mother that we're just like an old married couple?"

"Yep."

"Are you happy?"

"Yep."

"About us?"

"Yes," she answered, grinning from ear to ear. "Jackson?"

"Yep."

"Do you remember a few years ago, when I was so desperate and wanted to run away to Mexico or South America, live on the beach and never come back again?"

"Yep."

"Do you remember you talked about us doing it together...getting a small place and never letting the outside world come in and hurt either one of us again?"

"I remember, but you weren't officially divorced from your husband then and I was ready to sweep you up and do it, but—"

Her stomach knotted. "Stop it!"

"What?"

"Don't go there."

"We can't avoid our pasts, Em. We're both walking on eggshells, trying to keep from bringing anything up about our sordid history. It's part of who we are. If we talk about things and try to understand, maybe we can move on from the resentments we both have."

She thought about it for a moment before answering. "I'm not ready. We've had five full days of bliss. I don't want to ruin it yet...not yet, please." She reached out and let her fingertips trail along his arm, watching as the fine blonde hairs on his wrist glittered with the reflection of the rising sun. "Please?"

His sigh was heavy and she had an eerie feeling there was something he needed to get off his chest that she didn't want to hear. She stole a sidelong glance at his face and could swear his jaw clenched, trying to contain words she felt he desperately needed to get out and the omnipresent fear, of their utopia crumbling around them, swept over her like a veil of doom. I can't let him do it...not yet.