37
“Hey,” he answers after only two rings. He sounds cheerful, and it tugs my heart into chaos even more as I picture his smiling face and beautiful, clear emerald eyes.
“Jake, I need to go home. Back to Chicago.” My voice is shell-shocked and small. I can’t pretend right now; I’m too raw to try. I try to control the waiver, but I fail, unable to contain my heartbreak at the sound of his deep comforting tone.
“Emma? What’s wrong, carina? Are you crying?” His soft, soothing voice causes a solitary tear to slide from my eye, and I wipe it away, defenseless with him in my ear.
Maybe I shouldn’t have called him. He sounds surprised to hear me tearful.
“No,” I lie. “My mom is in the hospital … an accident.” I can’t tell him that she’s let another abusive man nearly destroy her life and has left her half-dead; I can’t open that can of worms and confessions.
“Shit! Do you want me to come with you? I’ll call the airfield and get the jet ready.” He’s concerned, my sweet Jake. I want to run into his arms and let him hug me as he did in the hotel the morning we fought. What wouldn’t I give to have him here right now?
“No, I have to do this alone.” I want him to come with me so badly, but knowing what he would see, the questions he would ask are unbearable. I don’t want him to know that part of my past. Ever!
“If you’re sure, dolcezza? I’ll call the airfield, and Jefferson will pick you up to take you to the airport. Just pack, okay?” He’s reserved about it and doesn’t push.
“Thank you.” I know I sound strange, even to myself. I wonder how I sound to him. I hope it’s more in control than I feel, but I don’t want him to hang up and leave me with myself.
“You know, I’ll come if you want me to?” His husky statement makes me even more overly emotional and vulnerable, and it hits me in my chest like a thud.
“I know. I just can’t, Jake. There are things …” I stop myself. I was about to say too much about things he should never know about from my past life. He would never see me the same way again.
“One day, Emma, you’ll want to tell me. I’ll be here when you do.” He sighs with heaviness, and I’m scared he’ll go. I can’t let him go just yet; my hands have started trembling, and the tears build up in my throat, choking me with the ache.
“Jake?” I panic, not sure how else to stop him from going.
“What, Bambina?” His voice is breathy, and he’s being gentle with me. It’s too much, and the rip slowly tearing across my chest intensifies, a slight sharp pain slicing through. I can’t hold it in, and I break down completely, unable to hide my sobs down the line.
“That’s it, Emma! I’m coming over right now,” he states firmly with no hint of backing down in that commanding tone.
I can’t respond. All I can do is try and refuse through tears, but only hysteria comes out.
I hate that she’s brought me back to this place, brought down the walls, and broken me open wide to the world, to Jake. All it took was the repeat of a buried memory.
He says something else I don’t hear over my tears, and the line goes dead. I can’t even argue anymore. I curl up on the bed and cry my heart out in despair. Once again, broken. I don’t have the strength to deal with this; it’s all too much, falling apart after years of holding it all in, and I’m so tired tonight.
I don’t know how long I lay on the bed, blubbering into my pillow, but I finally calm and realize I should call him back to stop him from coming over, but I’m too late; I jump at the knock on the door and my heart lurches. I want him to leave, never to see me like this, but at the same time, I need to see him.
I rush to the door and yank it open without hesitation, all self-composure gone, replaced with only the need to have him with me. I’m faced with the only person in the world I want to see right now. He says nothing, just stands there as my strong haven, then steps in and wraps his arms around me tightly in the doorway. I fall to pieces with a tidal wave of pent-up tears breaking free, and I don’t hold back. He holds me, patiently waiting, staying silent, just being my rock, holding me up, arms cradling me, fingers in my hair, keeping me steady.
Finally, he guides me inside, pulls me to the sofa, and sits me down, his face close and arms enveloped around me. A million thoughts run through my head, swirling crazily. I cling to him as though my life depends on it and let all the tears and heartbreak out with fresh vigor.
Emma, who doesn’t cry … forgotten. Emma, who never lets anyone see her vulnerable … vacant. Strong Emma … dissipated.
“Jefferson is downstairs,” he croons. “The jet will be ready by the time we get there.” He lifts my chin to his face and wipes away some of the wetness with his thumb. He knows I don’t want to talk, so he’s just being here. I want to tell him that he can’t come, but I don’t have the strength.
I allow him to pull me to my feet and toward my bedroom. He leaves me at my door, pulls my empty suitcase from the floor where I left it, hauls open my closet, and starts throwing in random clothes haphazardly. This makes me laugh through my tears, breaking the pain. Jake looks hopeless as a domestic, and I shake my head at him, pushing him aside gently.
“If you want me dressed in sweatpants and blouses for the next few days, then you’re going about it the right way,” I sniff through a runny nose and hazy vision and start pulling out the clothes and packing my things properly, getting items out I’ll actually need. He moves back and stands watching me, looming close by, hovering as though I may keel over at any moment. The focus brings my emotions into check and soothes me fully. Tasks always do that.
“Might be a sexy fresh look for you, Ems. You’re cute enough to pull it off.” He smiles at me, and I sigh, pulling myself back together and drying my face on my sleeve. He hands me the gadgets from my desk, and I put them in the base of the suitcase, gently wrapping them in the protective sleeves I leave in there. My mind is blocking out any thoughts about my mother lying in a hospital bed now; I don’t even want to process this anymore.
“I can’t let you come, Jake; I don’t want you to see her like she is.” I glance at him nervously, stomach-churning.
“Why, Emma? You haven’t told me what happened.” He moves behind me, taking a strand of my loose hair and tucking it behind my ear, a standard Jake gesture that serves to make me feel entirely calm. Safe. His presence and touch are like a balm.
“I don’t want you to know; it’s too … there are things about my life before here that should stay in the past.” I glance back at him pleadingly, seeing his frown soften into a gentle smile as he hides his disappointment well.
“Okay, Emma. I promised I wouldn’t push.” He inhales heavily, defeated in a way. “But you better call me every night and keep me updated. If you need me, I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Can’t leave my number one girl coping alone when she’s upset.” He gently brushes another strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering, touching softly over my cheekbone. His green eyes locked on mine steadily. “Promise me?”
“I promise,” I nod, basking in the caress, then turning away to continue packing. Poor Jefferson has been sitting down in the car for long enough already, and I have a two-hour flight to take. After that, I must face a sight I already know will be unbearable in so many ways.
When I’m done packing, I go into Sarah’s room to leave her a note. I don’t want to call her and say the actual words in front of Jake. Her bed is a riot of covers and clothes, and I can only guess they’ve gone for a night out on the town, not that it bothers me. We lead separate lives nowadays.
I leave the note on her mirror and close the door as I exit. In a way, I’m glad she’s not here, so I do not have to explain with Jake so close by what’s happened to my mother for the second time in my life. Not having to deal with that knowing look on her face, thinking precisely as I do.
Will she ever change?
Jake accompanies me to the airfield and deposits me on the plane personally. Hugging me goodbye, he makes me promise that I’ll call when I land in Chicago and every night that I’m gone. I am torn between leaving him and not wanting him to see who I used to be. I need him far from that part of me right now, but I am distraught to walk away from him.
Reluctantly I let him go, and I’m flanked by the onboard attendant taking my coat and Jefferson depositing my suitcase on the plane himself. Jake waves from the tarmac, and I head to my seat, shutting out every thought and emotion, holding myself in to focus on the long flight ahead and all that I’m about to encounter.
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