Page 78 of Priceless
I ken how lucky I am that the woman I love is still on this earth, but I cannae help but see myself when I look at Sandrine.She looks as lost as I feel without ye. I so wish ye would have come, if only to hold my hand. But I remind myself that ye’ve been through this flavor of grief so recently that I shouldn’t have asked ye to face it again, even through a stranger’s eyes.
I find myself sitting on sofas, leaving an empty space beside me, in case ye walk through the door. I reckon it’s because I no longer feel like I inhabit only one body. I am now two.
I set my hand out, hoping ye’ll come along and take it. I ken it sounds childish, but I have reveled in the feel of yer hand in mine. So perfect a fit, surly planned in Heaven.
But as perfect as we are, as comfortable and comforted as my soul is when ye’re near, there is a gaping hole between us that needs filling. A lie I have tried to confess a number of times, but I’ve been a coward, scared witless that it will turn ye against me. And I tell ye now, I cannot go back to being just one.
Forgive me.
Oh, lordie, I pray that ye will.
Laira, I am Jacob MacKinney, as ye know me to be. But I am also the Jocko ye text with on yer phone.
On the 22ndof August, I entered an AI assisted chat room. It was two in the morning and I just needed to reach outside of my tight wee world that I ken so well. And there was yer message, daring the universe to help ye. And so I tried.
By the time I realized ye thought I was a mere AI program, it was too late. Ye had me well and truly hooked, just like that cod that first took yer bait. And it didn’t take long until I knew I had to meet ye. Forgive me for luring ye across the pond. And forgive me for not regretting that ye came.
I’m certain ye’ll be angry. I’m certain ye’ll have questions. I’m ready to pay whatever penance ye assign me. I’m ready to take my poison. Just don’t, I beg ye, don’t walk away. I couldnae endure it.
I’ll do anything to make this up to ye. And when ye’re ready to speak to me again, please call.
The man who loves ye, and the friend who needs ye,
Jacob
“Well, shit.”
Despite what that Vonnie chick had said, Raina hadn’t wanted to like him…
By the timethe sun started going down, my bare feet felt raw, and my heart felt like it had gone through a car wash, and every rotating scrubber had been a different emotion.
It went a lot like grieving. At first, I couldn’t believe Raina had called his number. And when I’d recognized Vonnie’s voice, it was the first tangible proof that the dream really had been a nightmare. It felt exactly like being kicked in the stomach by a horse.
Her words kept repeating in my head—Hiya, this is Jocko’s phone—and that spurred me on another mile from home before I started trying to rationalize, tried to imagine that he hadn’t been lying to me the entire time. And that led to a nice cleansing fit of sobbing.
That’s when I turned around and headed home, if only for a big box of tissues and a pillow to punch. By the time I girded my loins and prepared for a fight with Raina, my stomach let me know that it was ready to fight me too, if I didn’t go straight to the fridge.
I pounded on the door once to let my sister know I was home and I was pissed. Then I stomped into the kitchen and shouted, “I don’t want to talk about it!”
She was seated around the corner at the table, staring at her laptop. “Fine,” she said.
I didn’t trust that. She was probably just as prepared for this fight as I was. This was a trick.
“That’s it?”
She typed a little more, then paused and looked up. “That’s it. You don’t want to talk about it. I don’t need to talk about it. We can just forget it ever happened. I shouldn’t have dialed his number. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She smiled. “Forgive me?”
I came off Defcon Five. “Forgiven.”
“Hungry? I had a snack at the airport is all.”
“I could eat. Anything but pizza.”
I looked around. “Where’s my phone?”
“I turned it off.” She pointed to the counter. “You can use mine if you want to order something.”
I thought I’d feel better with it silenced, but it still felt like a bomb ready to go off. Forty-one calls? And all those texts? Probably voice messages full of lies—lilting, brogue-infused lies… Any woman would have fallen for those. I really should have given myself some slack, considering.
