Jake
For a second, I stared at her blankly, waiting for her to tell me what she needed my help with, because it wasn’t that I hadn’t heard her clearly, it was that I hadn’t heard her at all. So, I stared.
And she repeated it, “I need you to help me kill my husband.”
I wondered if the wind and the bird chirps and the lake and all the sounds from the zoo were combining to form the surely incorrect sentence.
But as I looked at the pleading in her face, and the hopelessness in her eyes, I heard the sentence again.
“I need you to help me kill my husband.”
“Are you doing drugs?” I asked peering into her eyes. It seemed to be the only explanation, because my sister was pure at heart and had no such thoughts going through her head. Not my Sammy.
She held back the tears that had now formed in her eyes and shook her head, “No.”
“Did you fall and hit your head?” I was really concerned, more for her mental health than her current state.
“Jake, I would never ever ask you to do such a thing. I . . . it’s not me. I’m not the kind of person who entertains thoughts of murder. I’m not the kind of person who sleeps with someone over ten years younger than me, no less is unfaithful. I’m not the kind of person who dreams about the different ways I’d die. But that is what my life has become, and there’s only one way out. It’s either me or him, so choose.”
Her crying had started again.
I stared in shock, wondering if this was some dreadful nightmare.
“You . . . I . . . Sammy, are you . . . I have to choose . . . What?” I found it hard to let out the words, not to talk about forming an actual sentence.
She let out a moan and dropped her head into her hands, “As long as I have to live with him, I’d rather not live at all. I got a gun, and I was this close to using it, but then I thought about all my pain and I couldn’t die knowing he’d still be alive.”
It almost sounded like another language. I couldn’t understand any of it, but I somehow managed to ask, “What happened?”
She shook her head vigorously, “I can’t tell you that.”
My eyes widened, “You want me to help you murder someone for no reason.” The word put a bad taste in my mouth. I cringed. I couldn’t believe we were actually having this conversation; it felt like an outer body experience of some sort.
“It’s not for no reason,” she said quietly, looking defeated.
My heart ached. This was my little sister, after all.
“Then what?” I asked in a comforting tone.
She was quiet for a couple of minutes, just staring down at the snow, with pieces of greenery peeping out here and there. I was fully aware of my soaked jeans, but the conversation had pulled my mind off all other discomforts.
“Sammy?” I called, but she continued to stare blankly.
“Did he hurt you?” I asked, even though I was fairly sure at this point – the flinching, the emotions, the fear; it all added up to one thing.
She stiffened, “I can’t live with him anymore, Jake. Just help me.”
I clenched my jaw and held back my fast-rising anger. Now, I had no qualms about tearing him to shreds. I balled up my fists and took a deep breath, “What did he do?”
“I’m sorry I asked. It was stupid. I don’t know why I’m being so irrational. I’m sorry,” she said, in a rush and got up abruptly, “We should head back.”
I stood up and grabbed her arm before she could spin around, “Sammy,” I said in a mild threatening voice. “Tell me.”
She hesitated. Then, she undid her coat buttons, under which was a turtleneck. She pulled down the high neck to reveal a large black bruise, as if from being choked, and then, when I was still reeling with shock, repulsion and fury, she pulled up her top to reveal another set of even larger bruises on her stomach, as if from broken ribs.
“That was Tuesday,” she said resignedly, her shoulders slumped.
I felt my throat constrict and my chest tighten. My fists were clenched so tight, my bones were creaking. Nothing could possibly keep me from killing him now. I shut my eyes and tried to steady my rapid breathing. To no avail.
Even behind my closed eyes, the bruises were still clear as day, and my little sister’s pain even clearer.
“Jake?” I heard her call, and I opened my eyes, “You can’t tell anyone. Especially not dad.” My father would torture Lee continuously and brutally, and then, whenever he finally healed, he’d behead him swiftly and slowly like an animal on one of his hunts, and then go back to his brandy. And I’d have no problem with that at all. I’d even be glad to watch.
Not my little sister.
Why my little sister?
I held onto her shoulders, “Sammy, we have to get you out of here. Now.”
“No,” she shook her head vigorously, “I can’t leave. Ryan’s wedding.”
I stared at her as if she was crazy.
“No! You can’t stay with him! Are you crazy?”
“He won’t hurt me under Dad’s roof,” she said with a half-smile.
I shivered at the thought of them sleeping in the same room.
“Okay. You stay for the wedding and then, I’m putting you on a plane to Alaska.”
She chuckled, “No. I can’t leave.”
I studied her face.
“Does this have anything to do with that younger lover you’ve taken?” I said bitterly.
She shrugged, “He makes me feel better.”
I frowned, “Are you in love with him or something?”
She looked thoughtfully at the ground, “No. I’m in love with what he gives to me.”
I cringed at the thought.
“Ugh.”
“I still can’t leave him.”
“Samantha, I am putting you on a plane out of here the minute that Ryan’s wedding is over, or I’m telling dad.”
She gasped, “You can’t, Jake. Dad will kill him!”
I frowned, “Isn’t that what you want?”
“Not at the risk of him going to jail or ruining his stellar reputation. He’s a legend. I can’t spoil that.”
“Oh, but you wouldn’t mind me going to jail?”
“You’re already kind of on the run. You wouldn’t go to jail, cause you wouldn’t get caught,” she said nonchalantly.
“True. Sammy, I can’t lose you,” I said mournfully.
“Jake, if you send me away, you’d be losing me,” she protested.
I shook my head, “But I’d know you were safe. I’ve never asked you to do anything for me. Ever. Please. I need you far away from him and far from this. I’d never be able to live with myself if anything happened to you. You know that.”
She looked at me sadly, “What about work? I can’t just leave. And what about mom and dad? What do I tell them? Ryan? And besides, Lee’s too good, he’d find me in a week.”
“Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll sort everything out. All you have to do is say yes. Please. Let me help you get away from this monster. Please,” I begged, my face contorted in aguish.
She let out a breath, “What about you? I can’t leave you. I can’t. Everyone else, but not you.”
“Sammy, please. This isn’t easy for me either, but I’d rather know you were safe than helpless. And this . . . lover, if he cares for you at all, he’d agree with me. You need to start afresh, with Lee far behind you. I promise you, he will never find you. The minute he starts looking, I’ll take care of it.”
She eyed me warily, “Jake, if I leave, there’s no need to hurt him anymore.”
“Yes or no, Sammy,” I said seriously.
She bit her lip. “Where are you even going to get the money? I don’t have enough to just up and leave. What would I live on?”
I almost yelled, “Just say yes or no!” I exclaimed.
She looked taken aback, “Okay. Fine! But wait till New Year’s. And not Alaska.”
I pulled her into a tight hug, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The air around me was suddenly colder, and I was finding it rather hard to catch my breath.
What the hell was I doing?
*
We walked in through the front door a few hours later, and it was the exact opposite of how we’d left it. Everyone seemed to be back from their various escapades, and in addition, a number of maintenance workers and other staff-like people were beginning to set up for the following day’s soiree – the engagement party was being held in a mini marquee at the back of the house.
“Samantha! Is that you, my darling?” my mom called, and my dad followed, “Sam-Sam! My girl’s here!” he beamed – honestly, his beam could have lit up the entire backyard right then. The reactions were the same from Marcus and Ryan, who never bothered to hide the fact that she was their favorite as well. She was everyone’s favorite.
As they all started to fuss over her, she caught my eye and winced. It was going to be terribly hard to explain to my parents and brothers why she suddenly stopped visiting or calling. But it was the only way, at least until I could find a way to get rid of Lee.
Not that way.
I spotted him across the room, in conversation with Sarah. I balled my fists and walked over, reciting a mantra to calm myself down, and I couldn’t let on that I knew, or else he might find a way to get them out of the comforts of our home. And what explanation would I give my parents for knocking him out right on their living room carpet?
“Hey Jake. Where’d you guys go?” he asked.
“Nowhere you’d know,” I replied, barely glancing over, “Sarah, want to start your tour now?” I asked, pulling her away before she could answer.
When we got outside, she raised her brows, “It’s nearly dark, Jake. In case you didn’t notice.”
“Let’s get a head-start,” I said, and pulled her along in the direction of my mom’s van.
And a head start we did get. We drove back to the Noble-Seymour-Crippen House in Norwood Park first of all, where Sarah delved into the depths of a rarely known and slightly unimportant history, but she didn’t seem to care at all. She got lost in the information, the beauty and the mystery of it all, while I on the other hand got lost in my head.
I needed to make a plan for Samantha. Europe seemed like the next best option but the only risk was the fact that my parents were going to be spending the next three months there. South America seemed too close and too predictable. Africa was another option, but who knew where Lee’s medicine would take him; if he went on to do one of those ‘Doctors without Borders’ programs, he would most likely end up in Africa.
She would have a language disability in Asia, and I couldn’t bear to think of her lost and alone.
The next best thing was Australia. And I had a friend there who owed me a favor or two. It made the most sense really.
Actually, none of it made sense. Was I really thinking of shipping my sister off to another country instead of just throwing Lee into the slammer? But Sammy’s pride would be hurt if anyone found out, I knew.
Sarah cut into my thoughts, “I wonder how it became a community center, though. Seems a little far from everything it used to be.”
“Where to next?” I asked.
“Well, it’s dark now, so tell me what’s tour-able at night?”
I smiled, “Food.”
She grinned, “Good, I’m starving.”
“What do you want? Italian? Mexican?” I asked, taking her hand.
“Whatever. Surprise me.”
I drove back to Lincoln Park and stopped right at the park. Via Carducci Trattoria was within walking distance and even in the cold, there was just a certain relief from taking a night stroll through the bustling avenues and streets of Lincoln Park. We walked slowly through the park, past the lake, and through the beauty of the Chicago nightlife with its blinding lights and over-the-top Christmas decor, with towers and darkened skies above our heads, and the snow crunching beneath our feet. For a moment, I forgot all about the last four hours, because walking hand-in-hand with Sarah, our somewhat torrid romance palpable, the seemingly natural feeling of comfort; it was all I could do to keep myself from twirling her and dipping her into my arms.
Then, a drunken hobo swayed in front of us, causing us to jump apart and backwards, and the moment was gone. Dissipated into thin air, as if it was never there. But the nervous glance Sarah gave me was reminder enough.
Via Carducci Trattoria was almost packed, and normally, you’re supposed to call ahead, but Francisco Carducci and I went to high school together – he was one of Ryan’s really good friends and we’d all hung out a few times, so we were well acquainted. He led us to a table at the back, next to the fiery furnace that was their rustically modern fireplace.
“So, what’s good here?” Sarah asked, pulling open the menu.
I barely heard her. My mind was back to Samantha. I wondered if Lee would ask her what we’d been out doing, and whether he’d draw it out of her by force.
I winced.
“Are you okay? I didn’t kick you, did I?” Sarah asked, shifting slightly, “These tables are weirdly small.”
I smiled.
She made me so happy, without even realizing it. Everything she did and said had this effect on me; I couldn’t help but be happy with her.
“No, you didn’t. You could try the gnocchi al pomodoro. I had it the last time I was here, and I can’t seem to forget the taste.”
Frankie walked back over then, “So Jakey, what are you doing spending your Christmas with us little people?” His accent was thick, but with the American thrown in, he sounded very much like Sonny Corleone from the Godfather.
I laughed, “I haven’t stopped being little, Frankie. This is my friend, Sarah. Sarah, Frankie and I went to high school together; he was in Ryan’s class.”
“No, Jake went. I kind of slunk around. Everyone seemed to think beating up the little Italian kid was funny, and Jakey here was my guardian angel,” he said.
I snorted, “Aren’t you supposed to be taking our orders?”
He laughed, “Modesty. You should teach your brother. You know Marcus came in here two weeks ago and wouldn’t shut up about this new promotion and that new house and this new Armani suit. I was like, ‘dude, your pasta’s getting cold. Chilies or not.’”
I laughed, “Modesty will always be foreign to Marcus.”
He smiled at Sarah, “I never seen you around before. Jake, why are you hiding this beauty from us all?”
“Our order, Frankie,” I reminded him. No wonder he was friends with Ryan. Gosh, the talking.
“I’ll have a glass of your Pinot Grigio to start. And some garlic bread,” Sarah started.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll gift you the bottle,” he cut in, with a wink.
She beamed, “That’s really sweet. Thank you.”
“What, no gifts for me?” I asked with a raised brow.
“That was for both of you. I know you can’t afford it. I just saved your ass,” he whispered, joking and walked off chuckling to himself.
I shook my head and turned back to the menu.
“Everyone seems to know you. I don’t get why you’d leave this place,” Sarah commented.
I looked up and shrugged, “If I never did, we’d never have met.”
“I guess so,” she murmured.
“And wouldn’t that be a tragedy,” I said, half-sarcastic.
She smiled, “What are you having?”
I kept zoning in and out all through the meal, and whenever I did catch on, Sarah would be finishing with a particular topic. I didn’t mean to, but there was so much going on and I couldn’t control my thought processes.
“ . . . so I tore off my clothes and climbed into bed with him.”
I looked up wide-eyed, “What?”
“I knew that would get you. What’s up with you? You seem so far away,” she said.
“I’m so sorry. I’m just a little distracted. I’m listening now. So, who’s this person you seem to be replacing me with?” I joked.
She rolled her eyes, but said nothing more. After a couple minutes of immeasurable silence, she said, “I’m a little jealous of whoever is in your head right now.”
I took her hand, which was lying on the table and held it tight, “I’m right here.”
“No, you’re not, but it’s okay,” she half-smiled, “I kind of wish you’d tell me what’s up, though.”
I frowned, “What do you mean? Nothing’s up,” I lied.
She shook her head, “I wish you wouldn’t insult my detective skills,” she joked.
I leaned back, not letting go of her hand, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t say anything further, but turned back to her meal.
“Oh, this is really good!” she exclaimed, taking a bite and savoring it with her eyes closed.
“There’s actually something I need to talk to you about,” I murmured, feeling very hesitant.
She looked at me blankly, “Okay.”
“Um . . . well . . . I don’t know how to say this . . . um . . .—”
She cut in, “What is it?” she asked looking a little worried at this point. I could understand it; I was stuttering, and I never stutter.
I sighed, “It’s a little uncomfortable for me.”
She raised a brow, “For you,” she said sarcastically.
I smiled and pulled my chair closer to her side of the table, causing an irritable glance to float my way from our neighboring table. The restaurant was rather packed.
“Okay. I need to ask you something,” I said slowly, wondering if there was another way out of this pickle; I don’t think I’d ever felt so uncomfortable in my life.
She stared at me questioningly while I paused for thought, trying to find the best way to de-intensify the air.
“What? You want me to leave? You don’t want to work with me anymore? You need me to give you space?” she rambled.
I gasped, “What? Are you crazy?”
“No, but I’m trying to think of the things that could make you this uncomfortable. You want to run away together? You need me to tell off your father? You—”
I interjected, “Stop. Sarah, you’re making this really hard.”
She sighed, “So, talk.”
“Fine. I’m . . . you can say no if you want, remember that. I really don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, and I wouldn’t ask this if I knew any other way . . . don’t feel obligated to say yes, okay? Please, please. I shouldn’t be doing this, but you’re the only person I can ask,” I said slowly, avoiding her gaze.
She gave me a wary glance, “Murder or money.”
I looked at her, taken aback.
“It’s either or,” she said knowingly.
I felt my shoulders slump in embarrassment, “Money.”
I thought of asking my father, but it was too risky, as he’d just want to know why. I also thought of asking Marcus, but he’d pull my father in, and that would be that. Ryan didn’t have the kind of money I needed, and a bank loan would take a while, especially with the holidays.
Her expression was placid and unchanging, “How much?”
“Look, don’t feel obligated to me for any reason, Sarah. You don’t owe me anything, and this is my mess, so—”
“Jake,” she urged, placing a hand on my knee.
I let out a breath, “Two hundred grand.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Brutal,” I muttered.
She smiled, “Cash or check?”
“Sarah, I promise I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. It might take a while but I will. I promise.”
“Cash or check,” she repeated.
“Some cash would be good, but a wire transfer would make sense too,” I replied.
“Okay then. I’ll do it tomorrow,” she said, turning back to her meal and digging in.
“Um . . . one more thing,” I said, under my breath, wondering how much more of this I could take.
“Well . . . can I keep eating? This is really good,” she said, digging in.
“Please please please say no if it’s inconvenient. Please.”
She went on chewing as I asked in a rush, “Can I borrow your plane? On New Years Eve.”
She paused and gave me a curious frown, but said nothing as she nodded.
“Yeah?” I asked, to be sure.
She swallowed the contents of her mouth, took a sip of her wine and answered, “Yes Jake. You can have whatever you want. Well . . . except for this meal; it’s divine.”
I don’t think she understood the magnitude of what she was doing for me. How could she? I hadn’t told her anything.
“I’m sorry I can’t tell you why,” I said contrite. She was the one person I always found it so easy to share with, and this was rather hard, because all I wanted to do was get her advice or her opinion.
“It’s fine. I never really expected you to.”
“I am so grateful for this, though. You can’t imagine . . .” I sighed, “Thank you. So much.”
She shrugged, frowning a little, as if stating the obvious, she said, “You know I’d do anything for you though. I don’t know why you got all worried about it.”
I found myself staring fixedly, unable to move. I was so grateful for the day I decided to move to New York, if only for the reason that I got to meet her. Not because she was helping me out now, but more because, the search for that person who you know you’d rather die than live without, that person who makes everything wrong seem perfectly right, that person who you would absolutely do anything for, no matter how clearly terrible it was; the search was over for me. I could barely believe it had taken me this long to figure it out, but she was theever-illusive one.
“Are you going to stop staring at me at some point? It’s making me very uncomfortable,” she said.
“Can we please get out of here? I just want to have you all to myself for a minute,” I said softly, taking her hand in mine.
She smiled, “What, you think grumpy over there is going to steal me away?” she whispered, referring to the irritable man next to us.
I pushed her bangs off her forehead and gestured towards the door, holding her hand tighter and pulled her up. She didn’t protest or stop me, but just let me pull her in front of me, her hands entwined in mine, tighter and tighter as we made our way out of the packed restaurant – I’d pay my bill later; Frankie wouldn’t mind. I didn’t care who saw me as I stepped outside and pulled her into my arms, kissing her as if there was no tomorrow, no one and nothing else in the world. Just me and the woman I was very sure I had fallen madly in love with. There could be no other explanation.
*
The marquee was up. The lights were on. The music was steadily flowing at the touch of the pianists’ hands. The party was in full swing. Looking at Emily and Ryan, you’d never be able to tell they were having major issues with planning; the beams on their faces were almost contagious.
We were at that stage of the party where dinner was served and everyone was kind of in their own element. I was at a table with Ryan, Emily, Marcus, Samantha, Lee and Sarah, and here and there, my relatives – from all walks of life – were dotted around the room amongst Emily’s bridesmaids. It was a small gathering, but with all the chatter, you wouldn’t know it.
“So, where’s the honeymoon?” Marcus asked, cutting into Ryan’s diatribe about the florist.
“Why, you want to come?” Emily joked in a slur, already slightly tipsy.
Marcus scoffed, “Of course. You, me and Ryan on a yacht somewhere; what could possibly go wrong?”
“Whatever. You’re not invited,” Ryan said.
“Seriously, though. Where?” Marcus persisted.
“None of your business,” Ryan responded.
“I bet it’s a place in the Caribbean,” Samantha put in.
She seemed to be much calmer than she had been a day ago when she’d been weeping in my arms. Maybe it was to do with her escape plan, which was taking place in two days, or maybe it was the fact that she was seated far from Lee; well, as far as I could get her without moving him off the table.
“No, it’s probably Phuket or somewhere similar,” Marcus said.
I snorted, “I’m guessing Hawaii. Ryan already put all his thoughts into the proposal; I can’t imagine that he has any more left for the honeymoon.”
“Oh really, guys? Grow up, would you?” Ryan snapped.
“Sarah, where do you think?” Marcus asked, turning to a rather distracted Sarah. She barely heard him, it seemed, until I nudged her. She’d been a little quiet all through dinner, and I’d just assumed she was tired from the long day we’d had. In an attempt to get her away from all the drama of planning, I’d pulled her out of the house in the morning, and taken her round Chicago. Well, as much as I could squeeze into less than twelve hours.
She looked up, “Sorry?”
“Ryan and Emily’s honeymoon? Where do you think?” Samantha asked.
She shrugged, “Maldives,” she replied.
“That’s true, they do have the best weather this time of year,” Marcus said, “Ryan, so?”
“None of you got it right, and we won’t tell,” Emily exclaimed suddenly, causing a burst of laughter from us all.
Well, except Sarah, who was back to her innermost thoughts.
I placed a hand on her bare knee and whispered, “Everything okay?” I asked.
She gave me a half-shrug and a nod, leaving me completely unconvinced. I shifted closer, placing my hand on the small of her back.
I lowered my voice, “Come on, what’s up?”
She smiled, “Nothing. I’m good,” she replied. She turned back to her cellphone to turn it off, but before she did, I vaguely caught a headline on her news app, ‘Jack Barron’s Presidential Campaign.’
“You want to get some air?” I asked.
She put her hand in mine, “Jake, I’m fine right here.”
“Speech time!” Ryan called, pulling be back to my surroundings. Marcus was looking between Sarah and I curiously, and Samantha had a half-smile on her face.
I groaned, “You weren’t serious about that, were you?”
“Of course. You’re my best man. You have to give a speech at the rehearsal dinner and the wedding,” he answered.
Marcus cleared his throat, “Um, what about me?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Marco. No need to give a speech,” Ryan answered, waving him off.
Marcus looked hurt, “What if I want to?”
“I don’t mind. He can do it,” I put in.
Ryan sighed, “Come on, Jake. Marcus, you can give a speech tomorrow. Whatever.”
I sighed and got up, wondering just what I could possibly say. I hated speeches so much – especially unplanned ones, and I didn’t appreciate being in that exact position.
I walked up to the front of the marquee where the band was gathered, and picked up one of the microphones.
“Hello?” I said, into it, pulling everyone’s attentions.
It wasn’t nervousness; it was mostly the fear of making a fool of myself.
Ryan gave me a thumbs-up and Marcus gave me a smug grin. I could never understand what he was always so smug about. I looked over at Sarah, whose attention was fully turned on me.
She smiled, a grin actually, with a slight wince, as if to say, ‘Are you really doing this?’ I felt my face react accordingly. She looked so beautiful in her black dress, with her hair falling down her shoulders; sometimes, I barely believed she was real.
“Love,” I said into the microphone, my eyes still fixed on Sarah, “That’s what life’s all about, isn’t it?”
I turned to the sea of faces of my family members. They all looked expectant.
“A while ago,” I continued, “I thought I knew everything there was to know about love; the reasons behind it, the way you’re supposed to feel, the way it works . . . but there is no reason or rationale behind falling in love. You just . . . do.”
I felt my gaze stray back to Sarah; her expression was curious. It wasn’t weird that I was looking in that direction because, well, I could have been looking at Ryan and Emily. But I couldn’t see anyone else but her. Everything was suddenly so clear; I couldn’t believe I was only just seeing it all.
“It’s about being with somebody not because of anything but the simple fact that you’d rather not be without them. It’s about completely giving in and opening yourself up, without a care in the world. It’s about a trust like no other; you would never have any doubts about loyalty because, love and disloyalty do not mix. If they do, then it isn’t love.”
As if on cue, my ex, Charlotte walked in right then. She was very good friends with Emily – which I only found out after we broke up – and so obviously, was invited to the rehearsal dinner and wedding. I hadn’t seen her since I’d moved to New York, but right then, seeing her again, I was more than sure I was in love with Sarah.
“If there’s one thing I do know now, it’s that there’s nothing like love. And when you have it, when you know you have it, there is no other option than to treasure it. And that’s what Ryan and Emily are doing here, treasuring, building and reaffirming what they have together,” I caught Sarah’s gaze, her curiosity was gone, and in its place, daze. I kept my eyes on her, because her daze was the impetus to my speech.
“Your best friend. Your partner. The love of your life. I don’t know a luckier man. Here’s to Ryan and Emily, may your life together be as full and complete as your love,” I said, raising my glass.
The guests did the same, followed by applause, as I made my way back to my seat.
“That was beautiful man! And you said you weren’t prepared,” Ryan said.
“So very beautiful,” Emily whispered, her hand on her chest.
I avoided looking at Sarah, but I could feel her eyes boring into me.
“I wasn’t,” I murmured, and noticed Samantha sniffling.
My eyes widened, “What's wrong, Sammy?” I shot a gaze at Lee and growled, “What did you do to her?”
His eyes widened, in shock, “Nothing!”
“It’s your damn speech,” she said, wiping her eyes with a napkin. I knew it was a little more than that, though. If only because of the realization that her marriage really was reaching its end.
I settled back in my seat, taking in the raised brows of Marcus and Ryan and said, “What? I see my little sister crying, I have to blame somebody.”
I hoped to God I hadn’t roused any suspicion in Lee, because that honestly wouldn’t do.
“I need to get some air,” Sarah muttered aloud to no one in particular and got up.
“I’ll come with,” I said, hoping no one else – meaning Marcus – would do the same. I stood up and followed her. As we got to the entry to the marquee, I noticed Charlotte walking towards us. I groaned internally. There were some parts of my life I’d kept very far from Sarah, and Charlotte was a key part.
“Hi Jake,” she said, with a hesitant grin.
She did look as good as I remembered, though. I couldn’t help but smile back. Only slightly, though. Yes, there were hard feelings; very deeply negative feelings.
“Hey Char,” I said, “You look good.”
Sarah had stopped when I did, and Charlotte looked at her, and then back at me curiously. We’d ended on really bad terms, so this civility was rather unprecedented and I couldn’t even believe I was being polite.
“Charlotte, this is my friend Sarah. Sarah, Charlotte and I used to date,” I said.
“Hi,” Sarah said with a polite smile.
“Date? Aren’t you being a little vague? Jake and I were engaged.”
I watched Sarah’s eyes widen as she glanced at me and said, “Oh. What . . . um . . . what happened?”
Charlotte bit her lip nervously and mumbled something under her breath. I replied, “Marcus happened,” and then turning to Charlotte, I said, “Good seeing you, Char,” and pulled Sarah out of there before I could run into some other past mistake.
We walked over to the front of the house and settled onto the porch swing.
“That explains a lot,” Sarah said, when we’d barely sat down.
“Charlotte?”
“Yeah. You and Marcus, and five years ago, when you’d slept with the whole of Manhattan.”
I winced, “It wasn’t like that.”
She smiled, “I’m not judging. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was trying to move past it. Besides, we were barely engaged for a week before I caught her and Marcus in my bed. She was just another ex.”
“Not really. You were prepared to spend the rest of your life with her. There must have been something there.”
“Yeah. But it ended. There must have been a reason why I decided to go home for my lunch break that day; a reason why I went for a quick nap and found her and Marcus wrapped in my sheets asleep; a reason why I moved to New York and not some other state. And now . . . here we are. Me . . . and you.”
She looked away and stood up, walking over to the balustrade. I got up and walked over, standing behind her. I thought she’d wriggle away when I wrapped my arms around her waist, but she just leaned back into me, running her hand through her hair worriedly.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
She turned around so she was facing me and dropped her forehead onto my chest, “What are we doing?” she asked, with a groan, “At first, it was . . . I thought we were just messing around. But now . . . What are we doing?” she asked again, looking up at me, a deep-set frown on her forehead.
I let go of her waist and held onto the balustrade,trapping her in my arms.
“I just wanted to have fun,” she said, with a shrug.
I sighed, “Sarah, I . . . I’m in love with you,” I blurted, unable to keep it in any longer, “So much that it hurts, in a good way. I’m not sure when it happened . . . maybe it was five years ago, when I hit on you at work and you knocked me down a peg; maybe it was three years ago, when you dated that drug trafficking cop and I got really jealous; maybe it was that first night in the motel; or maybe it was the night you gave me that amazing Christmas present. I don’t know, and . . . I don’t give a damn.” I let out a breath; I felt like bricks were being pulled off my shoulders. This was such a relief. She was staring at me, her mouth slightly open. I carried on; I wasn’t sure I could stop, “I just know I’m in love with you. I want you and I need you and it’s driving me crazy. But . . . you’re too important to me to be just fun, and I’m too in love with you to settle for that,” I finished with a shrug.
She went on staring open-mouthed, dazed, confused and worried.
I let go of the balustrade and stepped back. We stood like that for what I could only describe as an eon; Sarah’s gaze fixed on me, and mine on her.
“We should go in,” I said, as the wind started up.
She looked away and settled back onto the balustrade, making no moves to leave.
I smiled at her speechlessness, “Okay,” I said, and took off my jacket, wrapping it around her. “Can’t have you freezing to death on my father’s porch. He’d be so mad,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
She dropped her head into her hands, “You’re an idiot!” she exclaimed, to my immense surprise.
My eyes widened, “What?”
She looked up at me with an exasperated frown, “What in God’s name would make you fall in love with me?” She shook her head in wonder and worry, unsmiling.
I smiled, wrapping my arms back around her waist, and burying my face in her hair, “I’m stumped myself,” I joked.
I heard her chuckle lightly into my chest, as she put her arms around me. I could barely wrap my head round how I felt, but as she tightened her grip around me, I could fully comprehend never – ever – wanting to let go.