Flirting with Fifty

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to ignore the trembling in her legs and her hands. She felt as if she’d come undone.

“Please,” he added. “I screwed up. And I’m sorry, very sorry. Now, can I come in, so we can talk about this in private—”

“No.”

“Babe, be reasonable.”

“No.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. Her throat ached with suppressed emotion. “I can’t do this with you, Jack.”

“I love you, Paige.”

Paige looked away and sank her teeth into the inside of her lip to keep from making a sound.

“I don’t love Camille.” His voice was rough, low. “I’m completely in love with you. You’re meant to be with me. You’re my person. My family.”

She closed her eyes, stunned by his words. Did he really just say that?

“I know I’m jumping ahead a bit here,” he said, “but I fell for you in Paris. It was one of those strange things you hear about. How could one fall in love at first sight? I decided it was a crush, infatuation, and when you returned to California, I told myself okay, she doesn’t feel the same way, man up, get over her. But we’ve always had something, I don’t even know what this something is, but I’ve never felt this with anyone else. Not with Mara, or Camille. Only with you. With you, I feel like me, only better. More complete. Give me a chance, Paige. Don’t walk away again. Please.”

Every word was perfect. But it was too perfect. None of this could be real. She didn’t trust him, or the things he was saying.

“I’m tired, Jack. I don’t feel well. I need to go to bed, and you need to return to Arusha. What you do there is your business. All I ask is that you give me space. We’re done. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but it’s over. This isn’t working for me.” Her gaze swept over him, pain splintering in her heart as she saw the shadows in his eyes, the fatigue in his face. “Goodbye, Jack. I’ll see you in Arusha Sunday.”

She stepped into her cottage on the Rufiji River, locking the door behind her. On her bed, inside the elegant, romantic netting, beneath the high thatched roof, Paige cried her eyes out. Her heart felt broken, just shattered. She’d come so close to having the happy ever after she longed for, the happy ever after she’d wanted so desperately, wanted so badly that she couldn’t even let herself admit it.

She loved him.

She loved Jack.

But Jack wasn’t the right man for her, not if he didn’t understand that honesty was everything, and he hadn’t been honest. He hadn’t given her the truth she needed.

But oh, his face. The look in his eyes as she said goodbye. It killed her to hurt Jack. She cared so much for him she didn’t want to add to his pain, and she could see he was exhausted, could feel his anxiety and concern. She’d always thought Jack was so calm and relaxed, but he’d been anything but calm tonight.

Maybe that was what upset her so much. She knew he cared. Deeply. He hadn’t chased her here out of obligation, or guilt. He was here because he loved her, and to hurt someone she loved was incomprehensible. But better to suffer disappointment now, before they were even more attached.

He’d get over her.

She’d get over him.

It would take time, but they’d survive this. They were adults. Mature. Familiar with the game of life. Eventually they’d forget, move on.

*   *   *

He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t lay still. Jack paced his room most of the night. He tried to lie down but his chest hurt every time he did that, the air trapped inside, making it hard to breathe. It was better to keep moving, better to walk when drowning in shock. Loss.

Jack remembered the last time he’d felt this kind of pain. It’d been the night Mara was dying. That last week she’d been sleeping more and more, her pain only partially eased by morphine, but she’d woken in the middle of the night, looked at him with startling clarity, and told him to love Oliver with all his heart.

It was the easiest promise he’d ever made. He’d kept it, too. He was proud of his son, proud of his strength, proud of his courage and creativity. He was a man with a strong sense of justice, a man who nearly always chose the right thing.

But Oliver had taken a page from Jack’s book. He didn’t fall in love easily.

He wasn’t about to compromise, not in life, not in love. Relationships were secondary; life’s passions came first. His world was the camera and film, and the images he captured for others to enjoy.

But life shouldn’t be all work. Life shouldn’t just be about accomplishments. There should be love. Companionship. Family. Jack believed in family, and for the past twenty years, Oliver had been his family, but Oliver was grown, and gone, and living his dreams.

Jack wasn’t afraid of growing older or being alone. He liked his own company, was comfortable. But Paige had changed everything.

Paige had changed him.

As content as he’d been in his world, with his work and friends, she’d shown him that there was more he’d wanted. More he needed. He needed her. He craved her . . . her company, her smile, her laugh. The little furrow of displeasure she’d get between her brows.

Her uncertainty at his suggestions.

Her love of teaching.

Her absolute devotion to her family.

Her warmth, her kindness, her joy, her curiosity.

He wanted it all. He’d spent most of his life single. He wanted this next chapter of life to include her. He loved her.

He loved her with his whole heart. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly.

Jack finally forced himself to stretch out on the leather sofa facing the sliding French doors. Dawn was close. The dark sky was lightening. The sun would soon rise, and Jack needed to be prepared for the fight of his life.

*   *   *