Page 69 of Where We Promise

I’d have to settle for the truth I slid in with my vows. The honesty I’d been too scared to share with her our whole lives. She’d heard it, whether she believed it or not, accepted it or not, it was my truth. I had interjected at the last second because I felt like my chest was about to burst if I didn’t say it. Fake wedding or not, this was all real for me. She was real, always had been.

My gaze dropped to the floor where her crumpled dress still laid. I moved, gently pulling it off the floor and staring at it. The silk was so smooth under my touch, the interwoven lace so perfectly sewn. She was a vision in this dress, and for as long as I lived, I’d never forget what she looked like walking down that aisle, a smile on her face and that reluctant hope hanging in her eyes.

My chest felt heavy as I absently rubbed at it. I walked to the closet and carefully hung the dress, straightening it so it wouldn’t continue to crease. She was still in the bath, so I yelled through the door, “there’s food out here when you’re ready.”

I didn’t want to rush her, but I wanted to see her. Lying down on the bed, so not to move the tray of food, I pictured her walking out in her robe, barely concealing that belly or her breasts. How her dark hair would spill across the white fabric. How she’d crawl into bed with a smile on her face, a smile she’d been giving to me, more and more.

A smile that now graced my lips as I drifted off to sleep…I should have fought to stay awake because the dream I had only served to remind me why trying to start anything would just end in heartbreak.

Age Twenty-Three

“You need to tell her how you feel, stop playing around. I had the honor and privilege of getting to be with the love of my life for nearly twenty-five years. Stop wasting time.” My mom’s voice cracked at the very end of her sentence.

I ran my finger over the patch on my father’s leather cut. Mom kept it out, which I liked because it made it feel like he was still around.

“You can have that, you know that, right?”

My head lifted, surprised by her offer. “No, Dad would want you to have it. I like that it’s safe here with you.”

I was slightly tempted to keep the topic on my late father, because I knew it would keep her away from her musings over my dating life or lack thereof. I’d come to visit her in New Hampshire on a whim. The anniversary of Dad’s death was just a few days away and I wanted to be with her when it arrived, so she wouldn’t be alone. She lived near my aunt, but Mom’s grief had strained their relationship, so they didn’t see one another very much.

My mother let out a heavy sigh then took a drag of her cigarette. “You’re so much like him. I had to practically force him to date me, not because he didn’t want to but because he was so shy.”

“I’m not shy.”

Her brown eyes lit up with humor as she nudged my leg. “Then pick up the phone right now and call Penelope Pruitt and tell her how you feel.”

My face burned, even as I laughed.

“I feel stressed and overwhelmed. Besides, she’s better than the club…I don’t want her tied to this life.”

“So, was me marrying your father a mistake then?” Her brow quirked up as she took another drag, exhaling smoke.

I watched grief shadow her features. “He’d hate that you started smoking.”

She laughed, but it turned into a sob, making her chin wobble.

“You lose the love of your life, Jameson, and then you can judge my choices.”

That’s exactly what I was trying to avoid. It wasn’t so much as me trying to protect Pen, but I wanted to keep what was left of my grief-ridden heart intact. If I let her in, and she loved me back…and it ended. I saw no way forward from that point. As it was, I hadn’t dated anyone, or fucked in way too long. All because my mind went back to her.

“Jamie, you need to at least try. You’ve loved this girl since you were thirteen…I used to see your sketches and notes left behind in your desk. I know you. So, go get her.”

The leather under my hands was warm as I pulled it closer and inhaled my father’s still lingering scent. My eyes watered as I remembered how it felt to have this pressed against my face as a kid, hugging my dad’s waist.

“She’s been back for over a year, Mom…there’s no way she’d be open to dating me. I know this. She gave up on waiting.”

Mom glared, blowing smoke into the air. I hated this new version of her. She was depressed and alone. She’d started drinking more and now she was smoking. I didn’t like this. She was once so full of life and joy…just felt weird that she’d seemed to die right alongside my dad, and I had no clue how to revive her.

“So then do something big, Jamie. Declare yourself in a grand gesture.”

My mind whirled with ideas as I watched my mom’s face begin to brighten, like this was something that might add some joy to her life.

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “Start with flowers…you can’t go wrong with flowers.”

A smile slid easily along my lips as the idea formed.

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