Page 75 of Love on the Vine
“And then I couldn’t bring myself to take the pill in front of him. It just feels so final. Does that make sense?”
“Because part of you wants it?” she asked.
“Yeah.” I covered my eyes as tears slid down my face. “That sounds horrible when I say it out loud. I just really want him. And I want to have his babies.”
“Sweetie, of course you do. You’re in love. But just take a minute and breathe.” Callie breathed into the receiver, and I breathed back. “Do you really want to have a baby now? Take Jake out of the equation.”
“No. Not now.”
“Exactly. It’s not the right time. You have a lot to accomplish this year. Jake knows that. He’s probably freaked out that he might have inadvertently cast a shadow over your bright future.”
“Maybe.” I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. “But if that’s the case, why didn’t he just say that?”
She chuckled. “Men aren’t the best communicators, you know.”
More hot tears slid down my face. “I’ve probably scared him off for good now. I even scared myself.”
“Take a bath, calm down, sleep on it. You can talk tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah,” I croaked, but I wasn’t so sure.
I hung up the phone and wandered back over to the house, dark now except for the kitchen light I’d left on. I walked slowly over to the table and popped a pill out of the aluminum foil back. Then before I could overthink it, swallowed it down with a big gulp of water.
I thought it would make me feel better, but it didn’t. It felt like the end.
I wandered back to the cottage and flung myself face-first onto the mattress, where I fell asleep alone for the first time in weeks.
Chapter 25
JAKE
The night was interminable. I barely slept, just tossed and turned in a bed that was suddenly too big for me. I found myself reaching for Olivia, only to wrap my arm around empty space.
Around six a.m., I gave up altogether on the idea of sleep and went for a run to clear my mind. I ran until my legs ached and my lungs burned. Past the church where the ancient bells were already ringing, past the empty pétanque grounds, and past the café where Michel was having an early morning espresso and chatting with Marie-Claude. They called after me, but I pretended like I couldn’t hear them.
By the time I got back to the house, the sun was already beating down on the pavement, and the cicadas were buzzing, but otherwise it was eerily quiet.
When I walked into the kitchen, my eyes were immediately drawn to the counter where an empty glass stood next to the foil package, a ragged hole at the center where the pill had been pushed out. I don’t know how I’d expected to feel seeing the evidence that she’d taken it. Relieved? Guilty? I felt both, but also there was an ache deep in my chest.
I couldn’t pretend anymore that what I was doing didn’t matter, that it didn’t have any consequences, that it wouldn’t end up hurting her. Because last night Ihadhurt her.
I should have handled it better. I shouldn’t have freaked out, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have left her alone to take the damn pill. Goddammit, I’d spent most of my life trying to avoid these situations. I’d always been careful—not just with sex, but with emotional attachments. But on both counts, I’d failed here. And I’d done it because it felt good to be with her without my usual barriers. With Olivia, I’d felt free for the first time in a long time.
In the end, it was selfish. I always knew how this would end, and I’d let her think otherwise. Hell, I’d let myself feel otherwise.
After showering, I kept myself busy consulting weeks’ worth of old emails, anything to keep me from thinking about the night before. It was early afternoon when I finally heard her voice outside.
She was crouched down petting the cat with her back to me. When I stepped onto the terrace, she stiffened. Part of me wanted nothing more than to go to her and sweep her up in my arms to tell her I was sorry. But I couldn’t do it. She turned to peer up at me, and I could see how puffy her eyes were. Christ, she’d been crying, and I didn’t know what to do with tears, especially ones I’d caused.
The sight of those tears had me retreating into that part of myself where I felt safest. I always imagined it as a glass box where I could sit inside and observe without being seen. I was invulnerable in there, protected. The borders between me and the outside world didn’t bleed or confuse themselves.
She stood slowly, unsure, like she no longer trusted me. And she was right not to. I’d lied to her after all, hadn’t I? Made her believe I could give her something I knew myself incapable of. If anything, the past twelve hours had proven that she shouldn’t depend on me.
“Jake, can we talk?” She walked toward me, and I stepped back, afraid that if she came too near I’d end up kissing her. And it would all begin again. I’d keep lying to myself and to her.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, her eyes darting nervously over me.
I shook my head. “Nothing. I just have some work to do.”
