Page 88 of Until I Find You

He says nothing. Keeps walking.

I furrow my brow. “Jack!”

Jack blows past me, intent on leaving me behind.

Fat chance.

I bound after him, snatching his arm in my grip. “Jack!”

He spins around in my grip. And the look he gives me cuts right to my core. Distress rankles at the corners of his eyes, his forehead taut with wrinkles, and his lips pursed in a line like a dam trying to keep everything he’s feeling at bay.

“Jack…what’s wrong?”

“I just need to get out of here.” His words are so strained I imagine it hurts to even speak.

“What happened?”

“Camilla, I need to go, I need to–” A tear escapes his eye. He tries to blink others back, wincing as though they’re made of acid.

I grab him by both arms now, massaging my fingers into him. I try to smile. “It’s understandable you’d be emotional, it’s an emotional situation. But happy, right?”

Jack licks his lower lip. Says nothing.

Something is going on. More than the overwhelm of new life and the lateness of the night.

I draw myself closer to him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t, I –” His voice catches in his throat. More tears roll.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I coo. I swipe his tears away. “Let it out.”

I don’t care that we’re in public, that passing nurses and patients might see us. He needs me. I won’t let him pull away.

Jack dips his head down and hiccups out a sob.

“Come. Sit down. Let’s sit.”

I pull Jack over to a set of chairs against the wall. He has his face hidden in his jacket, reeking of embarrassment. It’s not enoughthat he’s a man needing to cry but I’m guessing he thinks he’s also supposed to be the one steady and in charge, according to the way we are around each other. I know no amount of me telling him it’s okay will actually make him feel it’s okay.

I don’t mind him crying. It draws me to him more. He’s in touch with that part of him.

I will get to the bottom of what’s hurting him, though.

As quick as I can, I return to the vending machines. I grab him a water and retrieve my bag of Skittles before returning to him, squatting on the floor in front of him.

“Here, have some of this.” I hold out the bottle of water.

He takes it, revealing his face to me. Poor man. So ashamed. “You didn’t have to do this.”

I say nothing, but rub his knee, give him some tenderness he needs.

Jack drinks about half the bottle before he’s able to get back on an even keel. He glances down the hallway and sighs. “Fucking embarrassing.”

I lean my elbow on his knee and look up at him. “What happened?”

Jack takes in the image of me. I might be doing some of the emotional holding, but I’m still his baby girl. Smaller than him, sweeter, more naïve. He sees it and smiles as well as he can. “It’s hard to see how wanted they are.”

I frown. “The babies?”

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