Page 62 of Bursting With Love
“I love you, Jack.” The words came without effort or thought, and she didn’t have any inclination to stop them. She didn’t care if she’d known him an hour, a day, or a year. She knew she should worry about scaring him off, but after the things he’d said to her, she couldn’t even hold on to that thought for a second. There were all sorts of things she should probably worry about, like if he’d ever get completely over Linda. If they’d ever be able to share a bedroom, or if the anger and guilt would come back and haunt him later that afternoon or the next day. But her father’s words came back to her loud and clear. The strength and ability to survive comes from within. When Jack looked down at her, she knew he had everything he needed to survive. He was stronger than any man she knew. He had to be to survive what he already had.
And when Jack looked into her eyes with so much honesty she wanted to make love to him again and he said, “I love you, too. I really, truly do,” she knew she could believe him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE MORNING SUN beat down on Jack’s back as his motorcycle climbed the steep hill toward the Grays’ colonial home. He felt stronger than he had in years and was certain he could deal with whatever lay ahead. The evening before played like a rerun in his mind, and he’d finally pinpointed the moment that he knew he was going to be okay. It wasn’t when he and Savannah were making love or sharing secrets. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had an insatiable appetite for her and that she seemed to have the same for him. It wasn’t his multiple intense orgasms—although aftershocks continued to rattle him when he thought about them. It was what Savannah had said and the look of love in her eyes when she’d said it. I love you, Jack, and then, You’re not in this alone anymore.
He parked his motorcycle in the circular driveway and set his helmet on the back. Jack pulled his shoulders back and drew in a deep breath, trying to ignore the nervousness spinning in his stomach and the pinch to his heart from the bundle of memories—both happy and sad—that he’d gathered in the Grays’ home over the last decade. He had to do this, and he was not going to chicken out. He walked to the front door, and as he reached for the doorbell, the door swung open.
“Jack.” Elise opened her arms.
Jack embraced her, and the unique warm vanilla smell of the Grays’ house sifted through the doorway.
“I’m so glad you made it,” she said.
“I meant what I said, Elise. I’m ready to do this. It’s time.”
She led him into the expansive foyer, then across the ceramic-tiled floor to a grand living room decorated with velvet and ornately carved wooden couches covered in rich mulberry, greens, and blues. The walls were lined with cherry bookshelves, and a marble fireplace filled the space between two enormous bay windows. Everything looked just as Jack remembered. Everything except the addition of the hospital bed placed just beside the grand piano on the left side of the room. Jack swallowed past the sadness that pressed in on him. Ralph Gray’s skin was ashen. His once virile body lay shrunken and diminished beneath white cotton sheets. The strength Jack had taken solace in on his way up the driveway fell away, and he felt another fissure form in his heart. He felt like he was in a sick game of tug-of-war. On one side was a life waiting to be lived. And Savannah. On the other side was the guilt not just of losing Linda, but of losing all the people he’d turned his back on. How was a man supposed to survive such heartache and enjoy the awaiting pleasure?
“Jack?” Ralph’s voice was barely above a whisper, scratchy and painful.
“Yes. I’m here.” He went to Ralph’s side, and all the anger he’d felt for the last two years was replaced with sadness and regret. Ralph had welcomed him into his family, treated him like a son, and respected him, and Jack had thrown it away. Jack thought he’d cried all the tears he’d had in him over the past twenty-four hours, but as his tears returned, he knew the well had not been tapped dry.
He took Ralph’s frail hand in his own.
“Jack.” Ralph’s eyes were already damp. “I’m glad you’re here, you sorry bastard.”
“Dad!” Elise chided him.
Jack’s heart warmed, glad to see a remnant of his friend return. “I’m here, Ralph, and I’m sorry for all the time I missed.”
Ralph drew his eyebrows together. “Cut the poppycock,” Ralph said in a weak tone. “You listen to me. I don’t have much breath left. This cancer shit really sucks. But you need to know that I never blamed you for Linda’s death.”
