Marriage For One

And I had just dreamed of Jack.

I was so incredibly aware that what I had just seen wasn’t real, but it had felt real—real enough that I felt a vast emptiness inside me. I swallowed and turned onto my back, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to rein in my emotions. I could still feel his arms around me, his touch, could feel and hear his voice right next to my ear. I couldn’t remember the words, but I’d remember that low, gruff sound anywhere now, and when I’d looked back over my shoulder, Jack had been right there smiling at me.

I lifted my hand and touched my cheek where I could still feel the prickly sensation, a remnant of his stubble rubbing against my cheek. It felt so real that I had to close my eyes and try to feel the ghost of his touch.

I was screwed.

It all had felt so real.

In my dream, I was in love with Jack, and I was pretty sure he was in love with me too. When he kissed me, just a slow graze of his lips on mine, there had been no one around. It was just us. Then he smiled against my lips. We had both smiled, and I’d wrapped my arms around his neck and forced him into a longer, more satisfying kiss. I’d never felt a happiness like that. When we’d come up for air, we had both been smiling, him pushing my hair out of my face with his hands, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breaths.

There had been no one around.

No one to show off for.

Just us.

My feelings hadn’t just disappeared suddenly like the dream, though. They hadn’t changed. I could still remember what I’d felt. I still wanted him and that, more than anything, scared the hell out of me, because it wasn’t real and yet I could still feel it.

I breathed in and out of my mouth and kicked off the covers. It was too hot inside the room.

After a few minutes of just staring into the darkness of the ceiling, I closed my eyes and desperately tried to go back to sleep in the hopes that I could pick up exactly where I’d left off.

I tried and it didn’t work.

When I realized it wasn’t happening, I dropped my legs from the bed and gripped the edge of the mattress, just sitting there for a few minutes, trying my best to clear my mind.

This was all happening because of that damn kiss and all that touching and smiling at the charity event. I knew it, but the dream had been too much. Feeling so good about something, feeling so happy and then having that feeling just be a lie? The moment I’d woken up, I had felt the physical loss of him intensely.

Saturday night had ended as soon as we got back to the apartment. Jack had disappeared into his study or office or whatever the hell he called that place, our car ride having been just as uneventful. He hadn’t mentioned the kiss or seeing Jodi and Bryan and Joshua. And I…instead of sitting down and trying to process the fact that Joshua was now with my cousin and maybe—probably—had left me for her, I had been stuck on the kiss I had shared with Jack. Joshua hadn’t occupied my mind for more than a few fleeting minutes.

It had been all Jack.

Sunday morning when I woke up, thinking maybe we could have breakfast together since I wasn’t opening the coffee shop, I’d looked for him. I even went as far as knocking on his door and going into his room, only to find him already gone. If someone asked, I wouldn’t admit it, but I had waited around until two PM, and when he hadn’t shown up, I’d decided to go to the coffee shop and spend time in the kitchen baking instead. I’d picked up my phone countless times, thinking maybe sending a quick text asking what he was doing wouldn’t be such a bad idea, but I hadn’t ever gone through with it.

He hadn’t contacted me either.

Heading back to the apartment at eight PM, nothing had changed. I didn’t think I had anything specific to say to him, but I wanted very much to see him and be around him. When I had gone to bed at eleven, he still hadn’t been around.

Massaging my temples, I sighed and blindly reached for my phone on the nightstand. I didn’t know why my heartbeat quickened when I took a quick look at the screen and scrolled through a few messages from Sally; there was nothing from Jack there, no calls, no texts—and why would he call or text me anyway? We weren’t that. We weren’t ever going to be that, no matter what dreams I had.