It’d been the most perfect, if bittersweet, last night I could’ve imagined. When Jaxon kissed the top of my head in response to my statement instead of bolting, a strong surge of hope bloomed in my chest.
I held on to that hope as I drifted off to sleep in the arms of the only man I ever wanted to hold again.
Chapter 24
JAXON
What the fuck was that?
My heart was thundering even after Lindsay fell asleep. It had nothing to do with the physical effects of sex anymore, and everything to do with having had the most feelings I’d ever had while fucking someone. On the other hand, I knew what fucking was, and that hadn’t been it.
We hadn’t known each other nearly long enough for it to have been the other thing, so it had to have been something between the two. I’d accepted it, though.
That wasn’t what was keeping me awake. The reason why I couldn’t sleep was because of the pain I’d heard—even in her whisper—when she’d told me she didn’t want to say goodbye to me tomorrow.
I didn’t really want to say goodbye to her either. If we had two more weeks together on this island, I doubted I’d even be ready to say goodbye then.
The alternative, however, didn’t bring me any joyous thoughts either. Moving carefully so I wouldn’t wake her, I went to get my phone and checked the flights back to Houston again.
Yesterday between all the arrangements I had to make, I’d scrolled through the options and decided to choose one later. If I was being completely honest, I hadn’t wanted to book my flight because that would’ve put a definitive end time to my little adventure in the life of a man married to Lindsay.
I’d promised her time and time again that I wouldn’t let her get hurt, though. I told her I would protect her and asked her to trust me. Every time I’d asked, she’d put her faith in me and agreed to whatever it was I had asked of her.
Now it was time to earn that trust. That faith she’d put in me. I owed her that much. Even if it was myself I had to protect her against, or the hurt I would inflict on her if she had to say goodbye.
As quietly as I could manage, I rifled through my bag and pulled on a pair of pants, made a cup of coffee, and carried my phone and the hot drink outside. I figured there was even less of a chance of me disturbing her when I wasn’t even in the bungalow.
The beach was deserted at this hour, and it just about ripped a hole into the very fabric of my being when I realized this was the last time I would see it like this. With Lindsay pretending to be my wife in the room behind me anyway.
I already knew that no return trips I might make here would be the same. This was the end of the line for Lindsay and me, and this place, as beautiful as it was, would always be empty to me without her.
Walking to the beach, I sat down on the sand and sipped my coffee while I got the unavoidable done with. I needed to do this—for both of our sakes.
The first flight out was in just a few hours. It was on a different airline, but I knew a few people who worked there, and despite the time, I had my ticket sitting in my email inbox ten minutes later.
I finished my coffee slowly, lost in thoughts and memories and doubts about whether I was doing the right thing. Lindsay being upset tomorrow was the last thing I wanted. I wanted her to have a good memory of me, and it was probably best if my big romantic gesture was it.
While I’d been in town to choose the dress, I’d had a photo of us printed off my phone and bought a handcrafted frame for it to go in. In the picture, our cheeks were pressed together while we sat on the beach one afternoon, and we were both smiling like we’d never been happier.
Slight stubble dusted my chin on the image, my eyes vibrantly alive and my features relaxed. I knew it was probably one of the best pictures I had of myself, but I also knew it was only because she was in it.
God, those eyes. Even though the picture had been taken days ago, I felt like