Splintered Oak (Winsor Series Book 3) (23 page)

BOOK: Splintered Oak (Winsor Series Book 3)
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26
. SAYING GOODBYE

 

 

NAOMI

 

“Jake, you really don’t have to dote on me every second,” I reminded him as he once again tucked the blanket around me. He’d been by my side all morning in the hospital and hadn’t let me get up since coming home.

“The doctor said you need fluids and rest. If you won’t stay in your room, fine, but you aren’t getting off this couch.”

He settled in next to me and turned the movie back on. It was a good one, but I was feeling better and therefore restless because I had been horizontal for days.

“So, how has trading been going?” I asked, eager to do anything that would stimulate my brain.

He raised his eyebrow and paused the show again. “Random question, but okay. It’s fine. I’ve got a nice nest egg now, so I can do longer term, less risky investments. It’s not quite the high it used to be, but it’s definitely less stressful. Why?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “No reason. I just want to talk. I don’t think I can sit through another movie. Did you finish your homework?”

Jake turned off the TV and turned to give me his full attention. “Yes, I did, in fact. It was surprisingly
freeing to write all my feelings down. I’m actually looking forward to my appointment this week.” He grinned, and immediately I felt my cheeks flush as the heat from the other day ignited within me.

The silence crackled between us, and I saw something shift in his eyes. He scooted closer, reaching up to touch my heated cheek. I couldn’t seem to free my eyes from his and found myself turning into his palm. “Thanks for reading to me,” I whispered, my gut continuing to clench as he moved even closer.

“You’re welcome.” We were inches apart now, and Jake was moving in. His lips first brushed my left cheek while his hand slid down my neck and arm. As if driven by instinct, I lifted my head slightly, giving him access to my neck. His lips slid down, slowly, leaving a trail of fire along my jawline.

My pulse raced as I felt him inch closer and slide his free hand around my waist. His lips explored my neck, ever so softly, teasing me until I thought I might explode.

“You were right about Jonathan,” I blurted out, causing Jake to freeze in place.

He pulled back and stared at me. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

My thoughts couldn’t seem to come together. “No, no. I just wanted you to know that you were right. I’ve been a coward.”

The moment was lost. Jake moved away and grabbed the remote. “Let’s just finish the movie,” he said flatly.

We sat only a foot apart, but it may as well have been a mile. Jake was tense and seemed to fidget constantly. Finally, he stood and grabbed his keys. “I’m going to pick up some more Gatorade and water for you.”

“Jake.” The words hung in the air like an apology, but didn’t seem to erase the hurt from his face. The door shut softly and tears stung at my eyes. When did everything get so complicated?

 

 

The complications didn’t stop the next day either. Jake was friendly, but distant and cold. He became like the nurse I had in the hospital, asking all the right questions, but rarely looked at me and avoided my touch as if I had leprosy. Frustrated, and determined to get out of the condo, I hurriedly got dressed and left for school.

Jonathan called and texted several times over the weekend, with the last voicemail being less than cordial. He was irritated at me for not calling him back, and laced his final comment with a veiled threat about calling Alex.

Already on edge and ready to be done with this mess, I texted him back to meet me in the quad after my class. He quickly replied that he’d be there. The nerves started wrestling inside my stomach and stayed all the way through my classes. By the time I actually arrived at the spot we agreed on, I was fully shaking.

After standing for what seemed like hours, I glanced at my watch to see how late Jonathan was. It had only been five minutes, somehow. Closing my eyes to calm myself, I didn’t hear him approach until I felt his arms around my waist.

“Thinking of me?” he whispered as his breath tickled the back on my neck.

Unhooking his hands, I turned to face him, backing up a little to put some space between us. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Of course.” He moved closer, but I stepped back. Confusion clouded his face and then his jaw tensed in anger. “Naomi, what is going on with you?”

“Just give me a minute. This is hard for me, okay?” I wiped my palms on my shorts and took another deep breath. I wasn’t nervous because I wanted him or would even miss him at this point. It was everything else. Our families, our history. They all seemed to make this moment impossible.

He crossed his arms and glared at me. He had to know. He had to have realized that things were flat between us.

Somehow finding the strength, I calmly said the words I had practiced in my head all morning. “I know we talked about exploring more between us, but I just don’t want to. I loved you once, I truly believe I did, but that was a long time ago and I was a different person. I still care about you, but not like this. I care about you like an old friend, one who has seen me through all the major events in my life. But comfort and history are not enough, Jonathan. I want more than what you can give me. I knew that weeks ago, but was too afraid to tell you, too afraid to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

I looked down at the ground, unable to face the hurt and fury that had moved over his features while I spoke. Suddenly, two hands gripped my arms, shaking me a little. I glanced up, startled. His eyes were bright blue with outrage, while his words oozed bitterness and accusation.

“It’s Jake, isn’t it?”

“No,” I protested, but his grip got even tighter, bringing a level of fear into my gut.

“Don’t lie to me. I saw the way he looked at you. If he touched you, I swear to God I will hurt him.”

His fingers continued to dig into my arms and I seriously considered kneeing him in the groin. “I’m not lying. Now let me go. You’re hurting me.”

His forehead was suddenly on mine, but his grip loosened enough to get the blood flowing again. “This isn’t you, Naomi, can’t you see that? They’ve corrupted you, confused you. This new person you’ve become…I hate it. You’re in there somewhere. I know you are.”

“Jonathan, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” I pushed him away, and his hands dropped to his side. Grabbing my backpack, I turned and walked away, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I got in my car.
Why was letting go so hard, even when I knew it was the right thing to do? I pulled at the door, closing me off from the campus and just allowed myself to release the past.

But even as I cried, I felt a peace. The peace of knowing I had done the right thing. I prayed, thanking God for the strength to do what needed to be done. As I prayed, I felt a stirring in my gut as an almost audible voice reminded me I
was still lying to my family.

“I’ll tell them, I will,” I promised out loud. But even as the words left my lips, I knew they weren’t true. My gut stirred more, but I pushed it aside, cle
aring my head of the guilt. It was becoming easier to do.

Attempting to justify myself, I called the residence office and asked for my transfer status. The woman asked if it had been thirty days. I assured
her it had been more, and then spent the entire drive home on hold. When she finally returned to the phone, I was pulling into my parking space.

“You are number five on the list, Ms. Bennett. It will probably be a few more weeks, but definitely before fall semester starts.”

Relief and disappointment flooded me, but I couldn’t tell in what order. Was I relieved I would be moving in a few weeks or disappointed I only had a few weeks left with Jake? I couldn’t say. North is south and nothing makes sense anymore.

I stepped into the condo, ready to put the day behind me. Jake sat on the couch, intensely watching his laptop. He glanced back at me and smiled thinly before turning back to whatever he was doing.

That was the final straw for me. I dropped my bag and walked around to sit next to him. “I’m sorry. Whatever it is I did, I’m sorry, okay? Just please don’t be mad at me anymore. I can’t take the chill. It hurts me.” My eyes pleaded with his, and his face immediately softened, filling with remorse.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Naomi. You’re perfect. Too perfect, really, for someone like me.” His hand brushed my cheek and then he smiled. “David says we owe him a celebration dinner. You free tonight?”

Grateful for the change in his body language, I smiled back. “Of course.” I was not perfect, not even close. But for some reason, I liked the fact that he thought so.

 

 

The rest of the week went by without event, even though I kept expecting an irate phone call from my brother. After a couple of days, I began to relax and accept that maybe Jonathan wouldn’t say anything after all. He hadn’t tried to call or text, so that was good sign.

Jake returned to his normal self, but still seemed to keep his distance. I found myself missing him, and even the little grazes or looks he would send my way.

Throwing noodles into the boiling water, I busied myself in getting vegetables ready to roast, once again reminding myself of all the reasons I shouldn’t be feeling the way I do. Jake walked though the front door just in time to help set the table. He went right to work, muttering only a mild hello.

“How was your appointment?” I knew he had seen Bruce earlier that morning.

Jake looked up as if noticing me for the first time. “Confusing.”

He didn’t offer more, and I didn’t pry, just let him get back to pouring the drinks. He suddenly stopped and set down the pitcher. “Will you go to Atlanta with me?”

“What?”

He seemed to get more eager as he processed what he just said. “Atlanta. I want to confront my father. It’s time.” The determination in his voice set me off guard. I wasn’t used to Jake being so focused.

“I have class tomorrow.”

“Skip it.”

I slid the baking sheet into the oven and set the timer. My mind raced, telling me all the reasons I shouldn’t go. “Okay.” The word came out without thought.

Jake stopped moving and I turned to look at him. “Really. You’ll go?”

I watched the surprise on his face and the way his eyes sparkled underneath the lights. Stepping closer, I slid my hand in his. “Ye
s. I’ll go with you.” Maybe it was the fear of knowing it would all end in a few weeks, but in that moment, being with him while he faced his past was all that mattered.

 

 

Jake was a flurry of nervous energy the next morning as he threw our stuff in the trunk. It was still dark outside, but we needed to get out early to make it to Atlanta before the end of the work day. I settled in next to him, closing my eyes as I sipped my coffee.

“Do you always have this much energy in the morning?” I asked as he tapped the steering wheel to the music.

He turned to look at me and grinned. “You can go back to sleep. I’m wired.”

I relaxed into the seat, but didn’t sleep. Instead, I got Jake to tell me about his father and why he suddenly felt like he wanted to confront him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years,” he admitted. “I’ve just been too scared. Bruce took me thro
ugh some role-playing yesterday. I’m ready this time, and I need to do this if I’m ever going to move on…ever going to be the man I want to be.”

He reached over and took my hand, squeezing it. “I’m changing, Naomi. You see that, right?”

I turned to watch him. He glanced back and forth between me and the road, waiting for my reaction. “I didn’t really know you before, but I like who you are today.”

Smiling th
at smile, the one that I now felt powerless against, he lifted my hand and brushed his lips over it. Tingles ran up my arm and through my body, and I knew in that moment the thing I had refused to admit. Maybe I had been sliding for a while, inching along despite my protesting heart.

But this was it, the finish line, the truth so clear it flashed as bright as a neon sign in my head…I
had totally and completely fallen for Jake Matthews. 

 

 

 

 

27
. CONFRONTATIONS

 

 

JAKE

 

Naomi was uncharacteristically quiet during the drive. Something had switched in her and she seemed to be unable to look at me.

“You okay?” I asked, after an hour of one-word answers.

She blushed and shook her head. “I’m fine. Just thinking is all. Too much thinking.”

I reached up and touched the pink in her cheek. I loves that she still had such innocence and that it was getting easier and easier to provoke that response from her.

She glanced in my direction, tears filling her eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. I wasn’t supposed to fall for you.”

My heart skipped a beat as her words settled over me like a soft drizzle. Unable to focus on the road, I pulled over at the next exit. She glanced back at her hands and one of the tears had spilled down her cheek.

I parked the car, doing my best to still my beating heart. Tilting her head to look at me, I saw it, really saw it for the first time—the recognition that this had become much deeper than friendship. I also recognized her fear. I wanted all the right words, wanted to do everything perfect for her.

“You’re not the only one who’s fallen, Naomi. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, inside and out. Everything about you makes me want to be a better person, makes me want to be good enough for you.”

She sighed and took my hand in hers. “What happens when I’m not perfect? When you realize I make mistakes or I do something that irritates you? Or when you get scared of how you feel about me? I’ve watched you walk away before and leave devastation in your path.”

I shuffled as close as my car would allow and slid my hand to her neck. “I haven’t noticed another woman since I met you, haven’t even wanted to touch anyone but you. I won’t walk away, Naomi. I’m not that guy anymore.”

She watched me closely. “Are you sure? I’m not like other girls, Jake. I won’t do what you’re used to.”

How did I tell her? How could I even begin to express what she did to me, how she had changed me?

I leaned in, slightly touching my lips to hers, waiting, watching. “You are all I want. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She reached up to run her fingers through my hair and everything in me went liquid. Unable to hold back, I pulled her in and kissed her the way I imagined doing a million times in my head. There was no resistance this time. She fell right with me, giving, taking, ruining me with each moment.

I knew I would never get enough of her, would never be the same after that moment. We slowly parted, but our eyes never broke contact. Her face was flushed and her eyes clouded with desire. “Wow,” she whispered, before a shy smile broke across her face.

I grinned back, feeling like a sixteen-year-old kid who just got his first kiss. I leaned back in, unable to stop, and tasted her lips one more time.

She was perfect, and she wa
s mine. I was living a dream I never wanted to wake from.

The haze of happiness stayed for another ten minutes into the drive before fear crept into my mind. I glanced at her. She was resting her head against the seat and gazing up at me with eyes that see only the best in me. I took her hand, needing to feel her skin touch mine.

How long before she realized? How long before she left? My fear turned into desperation as we crossed the Georgia line. I loved her, which left one certainty—I would eventually lose her.

 

 

The building looked the same, as did the parking lot when I pulled in front of the three-story brick property. Naomi didn’t say anything and part of me was grateful as I sat and stared into space. It felt like déjà vu to be here, in this spot again. Only this time, I knew I would go in.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Naomi asked softly as she ran her fingers down my arm. Her caress seemed to calm the storm swirling in my stomach.

“No. I think I’d better do this on my own. Will you be okay out here? It won’t take long.”

She smiled, understanding, compassionate, beautiful. “I’ll be fine. Take as long as you need to.”

I leaned over to kiss her, couldn’t stop myself, and smiled when she kissed me back. Will I ever get used to that? “When I get done, we’ll go sightseeing, have some fun, okay?”

“Whatever. I’m good just being here with you, Jake. This is a big moment; allow yourself to process it.” When I sat back and let out a heavy sigh, she continued. “Do you want me to pray for you?”

I didn’t know how to respond.
Was this a test? I knew her faith, but I didn’t share it. I didn’t believe in a higher power; couldn’t accept that there was some mastermind in the sky dictating my life. “No. I’m good.”

She was disappointed. I could see it right away, but she kept her smile. “Okay. Well, I’ll just do it behind your back then.”

Shaking my head and chuckling, I opened the door and slid out of the car. “Wish me luck,” I called before closing the door behind me.

The walk to the front door felt like a mile, but I mentally forced my legs to keep moving, step by step. Looking down at my clothes, I felt good, felt ready to confront him. I wore expensive clothes and shoes, my Rolex watch and gold cuff links. I
would show him how much I didn’t need him, how I had managed to make it without his love or his influence.

I had called ahead and knew he was on the second floor. The elevator ticked away until it opened up into a wide office space. Exposed ductwork and brick made the space look as young and contemporary as the websites designed there. The receptionist was young, too, and friendly.

“May I help you?” she asked with a smile.

I wondered if my voice would shake as much as my hands were. “Yes, I’m here for Michael Taylor.”

She sent me a smile, one of appreciation and flirtation. It gave me confidence for some reason and I leaned a little on the desk to smile back at her. Blushing, she pointed to a wall of workspaces on the far side of the room. “He’s in a meeting right now, but you can wait at his desk if you want to.”

Grinning to hide the flurries in my stomach, I winked at her. “Thanks.”

The room suddenly felt hot, excessively hot, and that prickly feeling started to move up my spine. I rolled my neck as I walked towards his desk, feeling the storm rage past my stomach and through my arms.

I thought back to Bruce and went through the relaxation techniques he had shown me. They seemed to work better in his office, but I did notice my pulse slowed a little with each deep breath. 

I stopped at his desk and examined it—organized and tidy, despite the mass of equipment sitting on the surface. In the corner, a small silver frame stood out against the wood. I picked up the photo and all the preparation and confidence I had gained slipped away. A family. Mom, dad, and two girls who looked just like their mother. His family. I stared at him in the frame. He looked so different than I imagined. His smile was soft and the youngest girl sat happily on his lap.

I heard a throat clear behind me and I turned sharply, putting me eye to eye with the same man in the picture.

Shock registered on his face. “Jake?” he asked as he examined me.

“You know who I am?” I couldn’t seem to get my voice to work and the strangled words sounded barely louder than a whisper.

“You have the Matthew eyes and you look like your mother.” He seemed as uncomfortable and lost as me. “How is she? How are you?” he fumbled, still not moving an inch.

The fog left my brain at the mention of my mother and the anger returned with a blow. “She’s dead,” I replied flatly and shoved the frame into his hand. “Nice family.”

The tingles returned and the air became thick, suffocating almost. I felt a fight or flight feeling in my gut and started to step past him to leave. This was a mistake.

“Jake, wait.” He grabbed my arm before I could run. “Let’s go somewhere and talk. There is so much I want to say, have wanted to say to you for so long.”

His touch only magnified my fire. Pulling my arm away, I glared at him. “She died last summer after suffering for seven years. I guess it’s a relief, huh, that you got to walk away and didn’t have to deal with all that. Your wife looks healthy. I guess you hit the jackpot there.”

The bitterness was like a jagged piece of glass in my throat, but I felt more in control with each word. The anger strengthened me, empowered me.

“I’m sorry, Jake. I know her death had to be hard on you.”

“You don’t know anything about me, and I didn’t come here for your sympathy.”

He came closer, his eyes searching. They looked sad, regretful. “Why did you come, then?”

My throat closed. He wa
s a monster, I told myself. But he didn’t look like a monster in that moment. He looked just like a man—a man going about his life with a wife, two kids, probably a dog and a white picket fence. A man who didn’t want me.

“I don’t know. It was a mistake,” I finally choked out, moving backwards.

He looked like he was grasping at straws, trying to find anything he could say. “I know you’re mad, Jake. I got that message every time you returned one of my letters, but don’t leave like this. I was a kid, a stupid kid, who didn’t know what he was walking away from.”

My body froze. “What letters?”

Now he looked angry. I could tell because his jaw clenched like mine did when I was trying to hold back.

“After I got married, my wife encouraged me to find you. I had wanted to for years, but felt I didn’t have the right. You were six and I watched you play in the front yard with construction toys, moving dirt from one pile to the next.”

My heart constricted as he spoke. I remembered that yard, those toys, even the dirt piles my mother had brought in so I wouldn’t dig up her grass. “You’re lying,” I whispered, fighting back the tears that were starting to move into my eyes.

“I’m not. When your mother came out, I approached her. She sent you in the house before I could say anything. She was angry, so angry. I didn’t blame her. I walked away
, and she had done it all on her own. I asked to see you; she wouldn’t let me. I told her I would be back, and that is when she said I could write and if you wanted to talk to me, you would write back.”

I shook my head. He was lying. He had
to be lying. My mother wouldn’t have done that to me. She wouldn’t have kept me from him. She was too good.

“I wrote you for ten years, Jake. I have every letter, every birthday card. I can show you.”

Tears filled my eyes, crushing any hope of remaining in control. He moved closer, his voice soft and his face starting to look as broken as mine. “My walking away was never about you.”

Like a man sleepwalking, I backed away from him, from the lies he told, from that pathetic look on his face.
I heard him call my name, but the sound was muffled through the tunnel surrounding me. I found my way back to the car. Naomi was talking, but again, nothing was registering. I was sinking, wading through deep water as it threatened to consume my last breath. I had to leave, now.

I threw the car in drive and sped out of the parking lot as fast as I could. The scenery was a blur and I drove and drove until I couldn’t stand to anymore and pulled into an empty lot.

The tears spilled over the minute I hit the dash and continued as I struck it over and over again until my knuckles went numb and the dash had a large crack where I pummeled it. It wasn’t enough.

I pushed out of my door and slammed it behind me. There was nothing around to hit so I just kicked the tire until I felt arms clasp around me, trapping me within them. Her voice finally penetrated my ears.

“Jake, stop!” she screamed, pulling me away from the car.

I turned in a fury, pushing her off of me. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she looked terrified. I realized that she was terrified of me and I just broke.

“Oh, Naomi, I’m so sorry,” I cried, pulling her in for a fierce hug.

Her touch calmed me, her smell like water dashing the fire. Exhaustion replaced the anger and soon her presence was the only thing keeping me from collapsing. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” was all I could say as I held her.

BOOK: Splintered Oak (Winsor Series Book 3)
10.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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