The Heart - Kate Stewart Page 0,86

ground.

“Another fucking lie!”

“You really don’t handle rejection well,” I snapped. “This is what I want. I’m asking you to respect that. I’m asking you to back the hell off!”

I saw the blows hit him with every word I spoke and wanted to do nothing short of cut out my tongue.

“Jack, I’m sorry. Please, just give me some space. Today completely wrecked me, okay. That’s the truth.”

He took a long defeated look at me and without a word walked out the door.

I woke up and tried to muster encouraging words to get me out of bed. I told Jack it was a ritual I did for motivation, but in truth, it was a ritual I’d started a few months after Grant died when I’d been forced into my new reality. The words had come to me naturally, and I’d made it a daily habit. That morning nothing would come. I’d made a decision I regretted.

I searched my phone in vain for my usual morning greeting from Jack but knew better. I’d blindsided him. He deserved an explanation and I knew I owed it to him. I would give him the answers he deserved and soon, but I had a day ahead of me I couldn’t get out of, and I decided not to chance any more emotional upset until the day had concluded.

Reluctant but unwilling to let my sister down, I showered, dressed, and was the first to arrive at the center. Dallas walked in with an easy smile and the actress in me rose to the occasion as we spent a grueling day in interviews. Nothing about it was easy, though I made it seem so. And as the day wound down, I’d even had Dallas convinced that I was much better than the previous day when the truth was, I was splintered. I spent the short drive home thinking of my time with Jack and how happy he made me. My asking for space had been a kneejerk reaction.

I pulled up to my house, all too eager to let him know as much when I saw Jack’s truck. I didn’t want to fight. I wanted to fall into rhythm with him again. I’d gotten myself to the point where I could admit he made me happy, and I was nowhere near ready to give that up. I got out of the car and expected to find him on the porch when I heard his voice sound behind me.

“You’re in my head, my thoughts, you’ve completely invaded me, whether you wanted to or not.”

I turned to see a disheveled Jack, a bottle of whiskey in his hand—our bottle. He looked over the water and waited.

“I don’t understand what you want,” I lied.

“What I want...” He grinned menacingly as a sinking feeling hit me.

“What do I want?” he asked as he took a step forward. I had pushed too hard and now he was spoiling for a fight. “I want your breaths, your minutes, your movements, and to be included in your memories. I want to be the man you run to. I want to be significant. I want you. It’s that simple.

“I fell in love with a beautiful woman. Looks aside, she makes me feel whole and happy. She can turn a shitty day into one worth remembering. She fills me up to the brink. She makes me laugh, and, well, looking at her... it makes my chest ache. And when I kiss her and she kisses me back—really kisses me—I’m convinced no woman will ever kiss me with as much behind it.” He scrutinized me, and I felt my hesitance begin to break him piece by piece.

“Jack,” I started, reeling from his words. He loved me. I felt the lump in my throat build and dissolve as I moved toward him, but he stepped away.

“Your hesitation tells me all I need to know. I don’t want your half-assed love, and I sure as hell can’t compete with whoever the hell it is I’m competing with.”

A large piece of me cracked at the way his cruel words were delivered. “That’s not fair...”

“To who? To me, to him, or to you?”

“Stop it!”

“I’m afraid I can’t. I’m afraid I’ve pretty much cemented this idea of you and me in my head. But, hey, look, no hard feelings. I’m dedicating this bottle to you, and as soon as I take the last drink, I’ll let you go. I’ve obviously misplaced my affection and for that, I apologize.” I watched him take a hearty