Jack left the room and Ellie stared at the spot he’d vacated and forced herself to concentrate. A heart transplant? Was he being serious? Of course he was, she’d seen his scar, but...holy mackerel. She’d expected to hear about a big operation, but a heart transplant was a very big deal. How could it not be?
Ellie heard Jack’s footsteps behind her and sent him a wary look as he sat down beside her, another cup of coffee in his hand.
‘You still want to talk about it, don’t you?’ Jack asked, his expression stating that he’d rather have his legs waxed.
Ellie leaned back and put her feet up on the coffee table. ‘It’s just another part of your history—like stitches or breaking a leg...though on a much mightier scale.’
‘You laughed when you heard about those incidents. I can handle humour. I can’t stand pity.’ Jack glared at her.
‘Sorry, I’m a bit short on heart transplant jokes,’ Ellie shot back. ‘And stop glaring at me! I didn’t torture you to tell me.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Jack retorted, looking miserable. ‘I look into your eyes and I want to tell you...stuff.’
Ellie batted her lashes and Jack laughed. Reluctantly, but he laughed. ‘You appear to be sweet but you are actually a brat, do you know that?’
‘Sweet? Ugh.’ Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘What a description. I prefer “amazing sex goddess”.’
Jack’s laugh was a lot easier this time. ‘You are that too. But you’ll have to keep proving it to retain the title.’
Ellie slapped his groping hands away and captured the hand closest to hers. ‘I will, but I need to say something to you first.’ His expression became guarded at her serious tone, but she decided to carry on anyway. She took a deep breath and spoke. ‘I’m sorry for what you lived through but, although you probably won’t believe me, I don’t feel pity. If anything I’m in awe of what you’ve achieved, how you’ve refused to allow your past to limit you.’
Jack shoved a hand into his hair, squirmed, but Ellie ploughed on.
‘You could’ve chosen to protect yourself, to hide out, to nurture yourself, and everyone would’ve understood. But because you’re you you probably said to your heart, Right, dude, we’ve both got a second chance. Hang on—we’re going for a ride. Am I right?’
‘Yeah...I suppose.’
‘I respect the hell out of you. You’re also...well...not ugly...which doesn’t hurt.’
Jack’s laugh whizzed over her head as he reached for her and pulled her across his lap. Ellie looked up at him and swallowed. When she teamed her respect for him with his sharp intellect, his dry sense of humour and the fact that he was a very decent guy, her heart started doing somersaults in her ribcage.
Add their physical chemistry to the mix and she had a soupy mess that could blow up in her face.
Since they’d started sleeping together she’d refused to think of him as anything other than a brief affair. Whenever she found herself thinking about him in terms of more, she reminded herself that she only had tomorrow or the next day or the next and closed the door on those fantasies. She wouldn’t think of him in any other context other than that of a short-term, big-fun, no-strings affair, because it would be so easy to allow him to slip inside her heart and her head and that way madness lay. He would leave—he’d told her he would—and she would be left holding her bruised and battered heart.
Jack’s thumb brushed over her lips and he just looked down at her with a soft, vulnerable expression on his face that she’d never seen before. It was encounters like this that dragged her deeper into an emotional quagmire. He was so enticing, on both an emotional and physical level, that it was difficult to not slip over the edge into deeper involvement. She was teetering on the edge. But she had to step back...because thinking of anything else was, frankly, stupid.
There were a couple of things she was sure of: she could love him, really love him, but he didn’t want or need her love. And he’d never need her, love her, as she needed him to.
Life was tough enough without having to compete with his job for his attention and his time. History had taught her that she’d end up either disappointing him or being disappointed. Both sucked equally, so why risk either? No, falling all the way in love with him was not an option, she thought as his mouth drifted across hers.
But it might be easier said than done.
* * *
It was the start of a new week and Jack, after spending hours at his computer, chipping away at Mitch’s story, felt as if he needed a break. It was the middle of the afternoon so he walked down to the bakery and ducked behind the counter. Sliding behind Samantha, he shoved a mug under the spout and shot a double espresso into a cup. Yanking a twenty out of his pocket, he dropped it in the pocket of her apron and snagged a chocolate muffin before walking through the stable door into the bakery.
As was his habit, he spent a moment admiring Ellie’s legs beneath the scarlet chef’s jacket before walking over to her table and pulling at the ponytail that fell out of her baseball cap.
Ellie lifted her fondant-full hands, smiled at him and eyed his muffin. ‘I’m starving—can I have some?’
Jack held the muffin to her mouth and sighed when Ellie took an enormous bite. ‘Piglet.’
‘I didn’t have lunch,’ Ellie explained. ‘I got involved in this cake.’
Jack ran his hand down Ellie’s back and popped the rest of the muffin into his mouth.
‘You have people who slap together sandwiches for your customers not twelve feet from you—order something,’ Jack suggested.
‘Crazy day,’ Ellie told him, and resumed working on a delicate cream rosebud that looked almost real.
He peered over her shoulder at the sugar-rose-scattered wedding cake. ‘That’s really pretty.’
‘Thanks,’ Ellie responded, her brow furrowed in concentration as she resumed work rolling a tiny petal.
Jack sat on a stool next to her table and watched her work. Her laptop stood open on the table in front of her and he gestured to it with his coffee cup. ‘What’s with the laptop?’
Ellie spared it a brief glance. ‘I’ve been trying to talk to my mother about the having-to-move-the-bakery situation and she promised to find a place she could Skype from. I’m waiting for her call.’
Progress of a type, Jack thought, but he doubted that Ellie would share the full responsibility of Pari’s with her mother. He could see the tension in the cords of her neck, in her raised shoulders. She didn’t want to burden her mum and would find any excuse not to. And if he knew her—and he thought he did—she would downplay the situation she was in.
Sometimes Jack wanted to shake her. She had about five months to purchase the property, do the renovations and move the bakery if she didn’t want to lose any trade. She was wasting daylight in so many ways...trying to charm the owner of the building into selling when she should be threatening to walk away...chatting to her mum via Skype when she should have demanded that she return home weeks ago... Jack sighed. He tried to negotiate, rather than confront people, but he could kick ass when he needed to. Ellie’s confrontation style was that she didn’t essentially have one.
Although she did have a way of making him emotionally vomit all over his shoes, Jack thought, thinking about their discussion yesterday. He couldn’t believe that he’d told her about his operation, his life before he’d started living again. He’d never told anybody—never discussed his past. God, if it wasn’t for his mother nagging him about his check-ups he wouldn’t discuss it at all.
That would be the perfect scenario. How he wished he could erase the scar, the memories, the feeling that someone had him by the throat every time he thought about it. Ellie didn’t understand how difficult talking about it had been for him. He’d felt as if he’d been giving birth while he was sitting on that couch, forcing the words through his constricted throat. He’d been catapulted back seventeen years to a place he’d never wanted to revisit. He’d always been reticent, self-contained, and being so sick had isolated him from his peers and made him more so. He didn’t allow people into his mind or his heart easily.
Yet Ellie kept creeping in. Did that mean that they’d moved from being a casual relationship to something that mattered? If so, he sure hadn’t planned on that happening...how had that happened? And when?
A day ago...a week ago...the first time he saw her in the bakery?
He’d thought that he’d be able to live with Ellie, sleep with Ellie and remain unaffected...hah! And some said he was a smart guy! He shoved his hands into his hair and tugged. Being in Cape Town was becoming a bit too complicated. He felt far too at home here in Ellie’s house, among her things. He’d never meant it to be a place where he could see himself living...
Yet a part of him could. Maybe it was Ellie...okay, most of it was Ellie, but it didn’t help that she lived in possibly one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen. Mountains and sea, sunny days, aqua and cobalt water, a pretty town. She had nice friends, people he could see himself spending time with, an interesting job, a relaxed, comfortable house.
It was miles—geographically and mentally—away from his soulless, stuffy flat in London, with its beige walls and furniture...although he did miss his kick-ass plasma TV. If he ever moved here that would be the only household appliance he’d pay to ship out here...
Jack gripped the edge of the stool. He was allowing the romance of the setting, his sexual attraction to Ellie and the prettiness of this area cloud his practicality. He was going soft—and possibly crazy.
He needed to go back to work. Needed a distraction from his increasingly sentimental and syrupy thoughts. There was nothing quite like a conflict, a war or a disaster, to slap your feet back to the ground.
Jack’s reflections were interrupted by a Skype call coming in on Ellie’s computer. At her request, Jack hit the ‘answer’ button with his non-sticky finger and Ellie’s brown-eyed mother appeared on screen. They could be sisters, Jack thought. A couple less laughter lines, long hair instead of short, blue eyes, not deep brown.
‘Namaste, angel face,’ said Ashnee, blowing her a kiss before wrapping her bare arms around her knees and grinning into the camera.
Ellie leaned on her elbows and stared at the screen. ‘Mum, I miss you so much. You look fabulous!’
Ashnee fluffed her short hair. ‘I feel fabulous. I see that I’m in the bakery. Busy?’
‘Hugely,’ Ellie said. ‘And that’s what I need to talk to you about.’
Jack listened as Ellie explained the situation to her mum, and from beside the computer watched the emotions cross Ashnee’s face. There was sadness, regret and then resignation.
‘And we definitely can’t afford the new rent?’
Ellie shook her head. ‘Nope.’
Ashnee looked down at her hands, beautifully decorated with henna designs. ‘So we have to move? To the old Hutchinson place?’
‘Mmm, if only I can get Mrs H to sell.’
Ellie looked up as the stable door opened and lifted her hand to greet Merri who, as per usual, had Molly Blue on her slim hip. She indicated that she was on a call and Merri nodded and wandered over to the table where she usually worked, where two less experienced bakers were making macaroons.
Ellie listened with half an ear as her mum repeated her words back to her. She knew it was Ashnee’s way of thinking the problem through, so she half listened and watched the conversation between Merri and the other bakers. Merri looked cross and the bakers frustrated, and when Merri picked up a batch of baked macaroons and tossed them into the dustbin behind them Ellie felt her temper heat.
Merri had no right to do quality control when she wasn’t even working on the premises. Right—she needed to sort this out before she ended up with no macaroons and no bakers.
‘Mum...’ Ellie reached out her hand, grabbed Jack’s hard arm and pulled him into the camera’s view ‘...meet Jack. Jack—Ashnee. Jack and I are kind of seeing each other...have a chat while I sort something out.’
‘Uh...’
Jack looked from her to the screen but Ellie ignored his panicked face. Good grief, anyone would think she’d asked him to meet the Queen! Ellie rolled her eyes and walked across the bakery. One pair of annoyed and two pairs of mutinous eyes looked back at her.
‘What are you doing, Merri?’ she asked, keeping her voice low and even.
‘The macaroons were lumpy,’ Merri stated, allowing Mama Thandi to take Molly from her. Merri placed her hands on her hips. ‘That means the mixture was under-mixed.’
Ellie walked over to the dustbin, opened it and grabbed one of the discarded macaroons. It wasn’t Merri-perfect but they could have sold the product. And, dammit, Merri had wasted time and energy, electricity and ingredients, when she wasn’t even supposed to be at work.
Ellie dropped the pastry back into the bin, closed her eyes and hauled in a deep breath. She felt like an old dishrag, with every bit of energy and enthusiasm wrung out of her. And the two people who’d always been her backstop, her support structure—the other two pillars of the bakery—were wafting in and out or, in her mum’s case, wafting around the Indian sub-continent, while she buckled under the responsibility of keeping the bakery afloat.
It was her fault. She’d allowed them their freedom. But enough was enough. She was done, and if they didn’t step up she’d collapse under the weight and Pari’s would come crashing down.
She would not let that happen.
Ellie opened her eyes and as she did so took a step towards Merri, grabbed her wrist and pulled her across the bakery to her table.
‘What is wrong with you?’ Merri demanded when they reached Jack, rubbing at her wrist in irritation.
‘You! You are what is wrong with me!’ Ellie snapped back, and then she pointed her finger to her mum, on the other side of the world. ‘And you! Both of you are going to listen to me!’
Jack cocked his head and stepped back. Clever man, Ellie thought. Get out of the area about to be firebombed.
‘You first.’ Ellie looked at Merri. ‘You either work here or you don’t. You aren’t allowed to walk into my bakery if you don’t and do quality control.’
‘I was just...’ Merri’s words trailed off.
Huh...Ellie thought. My scary face is actually scary! She steeled herself to say what she needed to. ‘I love you, Merri, and I desperately want you to come back to work. Next week is the beginning of a new month. Either get your ass back to work on that day or get fired. Have I made myself clear?’
‘Ellie, let’s talk about this,’ Merri replied, in her most persuasive voice.
‘We’re not talking about anything! That’s the way it is. Be here or don’t bother coming back.’ Ellie held her stare until Merri turned away and flounced off.
Round Two, Ellie thought, and looked down at her mum. This next conversation would be just as hard, if not harder. She bit her lip and looked for the words. ‘Mum, I know that I told you to take this time to travel, to live your dream, but I’m yanking you back. I need you here. I cannot do this alone.’
Ashnee looked at her for a long time and Ellie held her breath. What if she said no? Refused to give up her travelling? What would she do then? Ellie felt panic rise up in her throat at her mum’s long silence. Just when she didn’t think she could stand it any more Ashnee’s huge smile filled the screen.
‘Oh, thank God!’
Ellie blinked once, shook her head and blinked again. What was she so excited about?
‘I didn’t think I could stand another minute!’ Ashnee cried. ‘I’ve been desperate to come home! I’m sick of the heat and the crowds.’
‘But... But...’ Ellie looked at Jack, who was quietly laughing, obviously enjoying every minute of this drama. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Me neither!’ Ashnee said cheerfully, dropping her bare feet to the floor. ‘All I know is that I’m catching the first plane I can. Which might take a couple of days, since I’m somewhere near nowhere.’
Ellie sat down on her chair and looked bemused. ‘Okay. Good. This is a bit overwhelming.’
‘Love you, baby girl!’ Ashnee blew her a kiss. ‘I’ll e-mail you as soon as I have some flight deets.’
And with a wink and a grin her mum was gone.
Ellie stared at the screen for a moment longer before looking up and around. Her mum was gone and Merri was nowhere to be seen. She rubbed her hands over her face, feeling slightly sick at her actions and her words. The impulse to go after Merri was overwhelming...what if she didn’t come back? Ellie half stood and felt Jack’s strong hand pushing her back into the chair.
‘Don’t you dare go running after her.’
Ellie looked up into Jack’s laughing eyes and hauled in a deep breath. ‘What have I done?’ she whispered.
‘Something you should’ve done ages ago,’ Jack replied. He hooked a friendly arm around her neck and chuckled. ‘And I have to say...when you finally decide to kick ass you don’t take any prisoners.’
* * *
A few evenings later Jack wandered into the kitchen as Ellie took a plastic container from the fridge and placed it on the counter. After kissing her hello and getting a lukewarm response he sent her a keen look, trying to work out what was wrong—or more wrong than usual. He knew that she was super-stressed at work, and he suspected that their undefined relationship added another layer of tension to her.
They were reaching a tipping point, he realised. Soon one of them would have to fish or cut bait.
Leaning his forearms on the counter, he peered through the clear lid at tuna steaks covered in a sticky-looking marinade. In the past couple of weeks he’d had more home-cooked meals than he’d eaten since he left home, and fresh fish, properly done, was a treat he never tired of.
Ellie rolled her head and he knew that the knots in her neck were super-tight. ‘Spit it out, El. What’s wrong?’
‘Apart from the normal?’ Ellie tipped her head back and looked at the ceiling. ‘Horrible day.’
‘What happened?’
Ellie placed a strange vegetable on the wooden board and removed a sharp knife from the block of knives close by. He didn’t recognise the vegetable and wrinkled his nose.
‘Bok choy cabbage. It’s good for you,’ Ellie stated.
‘If you say so. Your day?’
Ellie tossed the cabbage into a frying pan. ‘Psycho bride, late deliveries, flood in the upstairs toilet. Samantha wrenched her ankle. Elias is sick.’ Ellie took a huge sip of the wine he handed her and sighed with pleasure. ‘I need this.’
Ellie pushed a tendril of hair back from her face as she heated another pan for the tuna. Working quickly and competently, she took the tuna steaks to the stove and tossed them into the hot pan. ‘Will you get some spring onions out of the fridge, please?’
The steaks sizzled and the room was filled with the fragrant aromas of soy sauce, ginger and garlic. Grabbing his own knife, Jack sliced up the spring onions and asked her where she wanted them.
‘In the pan with the bok choy,’ Ellie replied. ‘Can you get plates?’
Jack handed her the plates as directed. ‘Did you manage to get to chat to your mum about the new premises at all?’
Ellie rubbed her eye with her wrist. ‘I took her to see the place and showed her the plans that James the architect drew up. She likes it—likes the building, the plans. I’m not quite sure if it’s the travelling or the jet lag or her spiritual journey, but she shrugged off the issue of me not having enough money in my trust fund to buy the building at Mrs H’s price and do the renovations, insisting that it’ll all work out.’
Ashnee had smiled, hugged her and told her that she just had to have faith—a commodity Ellie had run out of a long time ago.
She was also on the brink of losing her mind, and her life was a pie chart of confusion. The segment labelled ‘Jack’ was particularly large. Ellie looked at him, sitting at the kitchen table, savouring his wine, his long legs stretched out and his bare foot tickling a dog’s neck. She knew that she had only days, maybe hours left with him, and every time she tried to envisage life without Jack in it, her breath hitched in her throat.
She’d never felt fear like this before... What she felt for him terrified her... This was true fear, being confronted with a life without Jack in it. He was only ever supposed to be a fling...when had he turned into someone so damn important? Someone she thought she was in love with?
Thought? Bah! Someone she was horribly, unconditionally, categorically in love with. Dammit...he had her heart in his hands and she knew that when he left he’d drop-kick it over a cliff. It was going to hurt like hell.
Ellie shoved her fist into her sternum and hoped like hell that she was confusing what she was feeling with indigestion. Well, she could always hope...
Ellie quickly plated the tuna steaks and sprinkled sesame seeds over the bok choy before putting them onto the plates.
She gestured to his plate. ‘Eat. It’s getting cold.’
Jack, looking thoroughly healthy and relaxed, eagerly took her advice and concentrated on his supper, which he ploughed through. He caught her look of amazement at his empty plate. She was barely halfway through hers.
‘Hungry?’
‘For food like that? Always.’ Jack stood up and helped himself to the last piece of tuna steak and the other half of the bok choy cabbage.
‘By the way, your mum phoned the bakery today, looking for you.’
Jack lifted his head and frowned. ‘What? Why?’ He picked up his mobile and shook his head. ‘My mobile has a signal. What did she want?’
Ellie smiled. ‘That’s the odd thing...nothing, really. We had a perfectly pleasant chat about the bakery and what I do and...’
‘And she was sussing you out. I told her I was staying with you.’ Jack leaned back in his chair and sighed, frustrated. ‘Sorry—only child, doubly over-protective mother because I was so sick for so long. She nursed me through it all and can’t quite cut the apron strings.’
‘I enjoyed chatting to her. Luckily I can talk and ice at the same time, because it was a long call. She said to remind you about Brent’s memorial service. He’s the donor of your heart, isn’t he?’
‘Mmm. He died when he was seventeen. It’s been seventeen years...’
‘Your mum said to let his family know if you can go. She said that they’d understand if you were on assignment.’
‘That’s code for we’d rather not have you there,’ Jack sighed. ‘It’s a gracious invite, but I suspect that seeing me would be incredibly difficult for them. I imagine they’d feel guilty for wishing he was alive and not me. I feel guilty for being alive...’
‘Oh, Jack.’ Ellie rested her chin on her fist. ‘Survivor’s guilt?’
‘Yeah. Are you going to say something pithy about me not needing to feel that?’
‘I wouldn’t dare. How could I, not having walked in your shoes?’ Ellie toyed with her fork. ‘So, are you going to go?’
Jack’s eyes flickered with pain. ‘I really don’t know. But I do know that I have to be back at work some time next week.’
‘Ah.’ Ellie felt a knife-point deep in her heart. So he’d be gone within the week? Her heart stuttered and faltered and felt as if it would crumble. She had only days more with him. Days to make enough memories to last her a lifetime.
‘El, don’t look at me like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you wouldn’t say no if I took you right now,’ Jack replied.
Ellie cocked her head, pretending to think as heat spread into her womb. She had such limited time to make memories that would have to last her a lifetime so she figured she might as well start immediately. ‘I wouldn’t say no.’
Jack’s eyes widened and Ellie laughed at his shocked face.
‘You’re joking,’ he said, his voice laced with disappointment.
Ellie fiddled with the edge of her top and sent him a slow smile. ‘What if I’m not?’
Jack’s fork clattered to his plate. ‘I think my heart just stopped.’
He lifted his hand, leaned across the table and, as per usual, pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear. Ellie shivered as his finger rubbed the sensitive spot there and trailed down her neck.
‘No going back, Ellie. Right here, right now,’ Jack muttered, his eyes on her mouth.
Ellie leaned back in her chair and grinned at him as she pulled her tank top over her head to reveal a white, semi-transparent lacy bra.
Jack clutched his chest. ‘Heart attack imminent.’
She stood up and walked around the table, standing in front of him while she undid the button that held her soft wraparound skirt together.
‘Well, I will slap you later for joking about that—right after I’ve had my way with you.’
Jack’s eyes dropped as the skirt fell to a frothy puddle on the floor, showing her amazing long legs and the smallest scrap of white lace. Placing his hands on her hips, he turned her around. His finger traced the line of her underwear.
‘Good God, I’m a goner,’ he muttered, placing his mouth on the sensitive dip where her spine met her bottom.
‘No, but you will be,’ Ellie promised as she turned back. She gave him an impish look. ‘Are you game to see how much this table can actually take?’
* * *
‘Next week’ was here. Despite her not wanting it to, it had crept stealthily and inexorably closer and had finally arrived. Despite her every effort Ellie had not been able to hold back time, and Jack was booked on a flight to London later that morning.
It was time to face reality, pay the piper, face the music, bite the bullet...to stop using stupid idioms.
Jack’s clothes were on her bed, his toiletries were in a bag and not on her bathroom shelves, and he was preparing to walk out of her life. Ellie sat on the edge of her bed, sipping a cup of coffee she couldn’t taste and wondering what to say, how to act.
It was D-day and she knew that she would have to break through the uneasy silence or else choke on the words that she needed to verbalise. Because if she didn’t she was certain she’d regret her silence for ever.
He was too important, too crucial to her happiness for her to let him waltz away without discussing what he meant to her, what she thought they had. Courage, she reminded herself, was not an absence of fear but acting despite that fear.
She had to do this—no matter how scary it was, how confrontational it could become, he was worth it. She was worth it. They were worth it.
Too bad that her knees were knocking together and her teeth were chattering. She’d practised this, she reminded herself—had spent the past few nights lying awake, holding him, while the words she wanted to say ran through her head.
All she could remember of those carefully practised phrases was: I’m in love with you and Please don’t leave me.
Ellie put her coffee cup down on the floor next to her feet and crossed her legs. She sat on her hands so that he wouldn’t see how much she was shaking.
‘Jack...’
Jack looked at her and she sighed at his guarded expression. ‘Mmm?’
‘Where to from here?’ Ellie asked. She winced, hearing the way that the words ran into each other as she launched them out of her mouth.
She saw him tense, caught his jaw hardening. He picked up a pile of shirts and shoved them into his rucksack. ‘Between you and I? Ellie, I’m coming back. I mean, I’d like to come back between assignments. To you.’
Well, that was better than him saying goodbye for ever, but it wasn’t quite enough. Ellie sucked in her bottom lip. ‘Why?’
Jack’s eyes flashed in irritation. She could see that he’d been hoping to avoid this conversation. Tough luck, Chapman.
‘What kind of question is that?’
‘A very reasonable one,’ Ellie replied. ‘Why do you want to come back?’
‘Because there’s something cooking between us!’
Ellie stood up and walked over to the window, staring out at the sunlight-drenched garden. ‘“Something cooking between us”? Is that all you can say?’ Ellie demanded.
‘I don’t know what you want me to say!’ Jack was quiet for a long time before he spoke again. ‘Okay...I’ve never felt as much for anyone as I do for you.’
Ellie shook her head and her ponytail bounced. Seriously? That was all he could come up with? Where had her erudite reporter gone—the one who relied on words for his living? Where had he run away to?
Well, if he wasn’t going to open up she would have to. Courage, Ellie.
‘Jack, this has been one of the best times of my life. I’ve loved having you here, with me. I don’t want it to end but I am also not prepared to put my life on hold, waiting for you to drop back in.’ She pulled in a breath and looked for words, hoping to make him understand her point of view. ‘I can’t spend my life wondering if you’re alive or dead, worrying about you constantly. I don’t want to deal with crappy signals and brief telephone calls and even briefer visits home. Living a half-life with you, missing birthdays and anniversaries and special days!’ Ellie stated. ‘I’ve lived that life. I hated that life.’
‘That was your father, not me! Stop judging me by what he did and said. We are nothing alike!’ His expression was pure frustration. ‘I am not your father and I don’t make promises I can’t keep! When I say I’ll do something, I’ll do it. And might I point out that technology has made it a lot easier to stay connected.’
Ellie sent him an enquiring look.
‘We have mobiles with great coverage, and when I can’t get a signal on my mobile I’ll have a satellite phone. I could be on Mars and still be able to call you. There is internet access everywhere, and we could talk every day—hell, every hour, if that’s what you needed. And I couldn’t survive only seeing you every six weeks. A week, two at the most, and I’d be home.’
‘But you can’t guarantee that!’ Ellie shouted.
‘Nobody can, Ellie! But I’ll do my damnedest!’
Ellie swallowed. She wanted to believe him. She really did. And she believed that he believed it—right now. But without a solid commitment, a declaration of love and trust, it couldn’t last. Long-distance relationships, especially those tinged with danger, had a finite lifespan. If he couldn’t make a commitment then she had to let him go now, while she could. Now—before she completely succumbed to the temptation of heaven and hell that loving him would be.
Heaven when he came back; hell when he was away.
No, that grey space in between the two, purgatory, was the safest place for her to be. It was the only place where she could function as a semi-normal person.
Ellie shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, a mostly long-distance relationship is not an option. I...can’t.’
Jack threw up his hands. ‘I don’t understand why not.’
‘Because all you’ve told me so far is that I am somewhat important and that you’ll come back when you can. How can you ask me to wait for you when that’s all you can give me?’
Jack pushed both his hands into his hair and linked his hands around the back of his head, his eyes devastated.
‘Ellie, I’m doing the best I can. There’s never been anyone who has come as close to capturing my heart as you. Ever. But I won’t tell you something you want to hear just because you want to hear it. I’m giving you as much as I am able to. Can’t you understand that?’
Oh, God, how was she supposed to resist such a naked, emotion-saturated statement? But she had to. There was too much at stake.
‘It’s not enough for me, Jack. It really isn’t.’
‘Ellie—’
Ellie held up her hand. ‘Wait, let me get this out.’ When she spoke again her voice was rich with emotion. ‘Over the past couple of weeks I’ve come to realise—you taught me!—that I’m worth making sacrifices for. I think you are worth making sacrifices for. But the reality is that you’re the one who would always be leaving. I can’t force you to change that, I can’t force you to need me, and I certainly can’t force you to love me. All I can be is a person who can be loved, and I am. I know that now. I want it all, Jack. Dammit, I deserve it all!’
‘You’re asking me to give up my career—’
‘I’ve never asked you to do that. I’m asking you to look at your life, to adjust it so that there is space for me in it. I’m asking you to make me a priority. I’m asking for some sort of commitment.’
Jack’s voice was low and sad when he spoke again. ‘I need to be able to move, Ellie, breathe. I can’t live a humdrum life. I can’t be confined—even by you.’
‘It’s not good enough, Jack. Not any more.’ Ellie felt her heart rip out of her chest. ‘I can’t be with someone who thinks life with me would be humdrum, tedious, boring.’
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘Yes, you did!’ Ellie shouted, suddenly pushed beyond her limits. ‘You want to think that a life with me would be unexciting and dull because anything else would mean that you would have to get emotionally involved, take a stand, make a choice that could lead to pain. Don’t you think you’re taking this protecting-your-heart thing a bit too far? You’ve stopped living, Jack.’
‘Of course I’m living! What the hell do you think I’ve been doing for the past seventeen years?’ Jack roared, his eyes light with fury.
‘That’s not living—it’s reporting! Living is taking emotional chances, laughing, loving.’ Ellie shoved her hands into her hair. ‘I’m in love with you and I’m pretty sure that you’re the man I can see myself living the rest of my life with. Would you consider loving me, living with me, creating a family with me?’
He stared at his feet, his arms tightly crossed. His body language didn’t inspire confidence.
‘This is emotional blackmail,’ Jack muttered eventually, and Ellie closed her eyes as his words kicked her in the heart. And here came the pain, roaring towards her with the force of a Sherman tank.
‘I’m sorry that you consider someone telling you that they adore you blackmail. Goodbye, Jack.’ Ellie turned away and folded her arms across her torso, gripping hard. ‘Lock the front door behind you, will you?’
‘Ellie—’
Ellie whirled around, fury, misery and anger emanating from every pore. ‘What? What else is there to say, Jack? I love you, but you’re so damn scared of feeling anything that you won’t step out of that self-protecting cocoon you’ve wedged yourself into! Of the two of us, you are the bigger pansy-assed coward and I am done with this conversation. Just leave, Jack. Please. You’ve played basketball with my heart for long enough.’
She heard him pick up his pack, jog down the stairs. From behind the curtain of the bay window Ellie watched him storm to his car, his broad shoulders tight and halfway up to his ears, his arms ending in clenched fists.
I love you, she wanted to say. I love you so much it scares me. I wish you knew how to take a real chance, how to risk your very precious heart.
But two sentences kept tumbling over and over in her head. Please don’t leave me. Please come back.
But he didn’t stop, didn’t turn around. When she saw his car back down her driveway and watched the tail-lights disappear down the road and out of sight, Ellie sank to the floor and buried her face in her hands.
It was over and she was alone. Again.