Page 120 of Absolution

My heart lurches.

I slam the brakes.

Jackie.

She’s standing there, still as stone. The light from my headlights wraps around her like something out of a dream. She doesn't move. Doesn’t speak. Just looks at me with tears glistening down her cheeks.

I throw the car in park and jump out. “Jackie-”

“Promise me,” she says.

Her voice is quiet but clear, cutting straight through the ache in my chest.

I stare at her, this woman, my wife, the mother of my children, the only person who has ever really seen me. She is everything I never deserved and everything I still can’t let go of.

She is my world.

“I promise,” I say, stepping around the open car door. “I promise you I won’t do it again.”

Tears are pouring freely down her face now, but she doesn't look away. Her voice trembles. “Promise me you won’t break my heart again.”

I swallow, hard. My throat burns. My voice is gravel when I speak.

“I promise,” I say. “I will rip my own heart out before I ever hurt you again.”

Her face crumples. She lets out a sound halfway between a cry and a gasp, and then suddenly she’s in my arms, flying into me like gravity itself pulled us together.

I catch her, lift her clean off the ground.

She wraps her arms around my neck and buries her face against me. I hold her tight, tighter than I ever have, like I’m afraid she’ll disappear if I let go. I spin us around once, a laugh escaping from me through the tears.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper into her hair.

She nods against my shoulder, sobbing. Her breath hitches in my ear, and I close my eyes, holding her tighter.

After a few seconds, I lean in closer to her ear and murmur, “People are staring at us.”

That gets a watery laugh out of her. She sniffles, pulling back. “They really are.”

We step apart, but not far. Just enough to breathe. Jackie wipes her cheeks, and then bends to pick up her purse off the ground. I rush to open the passenger door for her, still grinning like a fool with tears on my face.

She slides in, eyes flicking toward me like she still can’t believe we’re doing this. I shut the door gently, then jog to my side, heart pounding with something that feels dangerously close to hope.

By the time I slide behind the wheel, I can’t stop smiling. My cheeks are wet, my shirt is rumpled, but she’s here. She came back.

I reach for the ignition, but before I can turn the key, Jackie places her hand gently over mine.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “For walking away. For letting the past and my insecurity get in the way.”

I turn to her, eyes meeting hers in the dim light. “It’s more than okay.”

“No,” she shakes her head, serious now. “There’ll probably be more times like this. Days where I panic. Days where I remember everything. But I promise, I’ll try. I’ll fight for this.”

I flip my hand over, fingers interlocking with hers. “We’ve got this,” I whisper. “Together.”

She lets out a breath, something between relief and emotion, then she leans across the console. Her lips press to mine, warm and gentle. It’s not heated or rushed like we’re used to.

But this kiss?

---