Sandy - Vested Interest

I pulled open the door and looked at the box. There was writing on the side, so I lifted it carefully, carrying it into the house. I read the note from Jordan, tears springing to my eyes. He had been here, no doubt while I was asleep, and brought me something.

I slid the gift from the box, my breath catching, and tears, hot and fast, ran from my eyes. My painting. He’d had a print of it framed for me.

Memories of a lovely weekend.

This painting represented more than a memory.

It was the start of something new and beautiful, and I had thrown it away.

Jordan was right.

I was a coward.

The slam of a car door outside made me lift my head. I hurried to the porch, opening the front door and looking outside. Jordan’s charcoal-gray sedan was just pulling away from the curb.

Without a thought, I was outside, running down the street, praying somehow Jordan would see me. I waved my arms, crying his name as loudly as I could, ignoring the cold rain and the thunder that crashed around me.

Suddenly, Jordan’s car stopped. He stepped outside, staring at me as I barreled toward him.

“Sandy,” he called, “What the—”

I crashed into him, flinging my arms around his neck. I sobbed so hard nothing I was trying to say came out right, but I felt his arms lift me from the ground, holding me close.

“Don’t let go,” I pleaded. “Don’t ever let me go.”

“Never,” he promised, holding tighter.Jordan’s voice was low in my ear as he set me on my feet. I lifted my head, bewildered when I realized we were on my porch.

“What…”

Jordan shook his head. “You have no shoes on, Sandy. Go inside and change into dry clothes.”

I clutched at his hand, feeling frantic. He wasn’t going to forgive me. “Don’t…please. I’m sorry. Please…you said you’d listen!”

He shook his head, cupping my face between his strong hands. “I have to move my car, my darling. Then I’ll come right back, and we’ll talk. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He looked past me with a chuckle. “If it’s still there. I left it running in the middle of the street.”

I pushed him. “Go. Quickly.”

He opened the porch door, frowning at the squeak. “I need to fix this for you.”

“No. That was the sound that woke me. It brought me out to the porch.”

“All right, then. It stays.”

He hurried down the steps, and despite his assurances, I went to the door and watched as he ran down the street, got in his car, and reversed back into a spot close to the house. He shut off the car and strode back, his steps determined and swift.

I backed up as he came inside.

“Sandy, you’re soaking wet and shivering. You need dry clothes.” He stroked my cheek. “I’m right here.”

“Okay.”

Inside, I headed to my room, yanking off the wet clothes and tossing them in the hamper. I pulled on a warm sweater and a pair of yoga pants, then dried my wet hair, pinning it up once I was done. I felt much warmer after I slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks.

I found Jordan in the kitchen, brewing a pot of tea. He eyed me tenderly, holding out his hand. “That’s better.”

I went to him, letting him draw me close, shutting my eyes as another wave of emotion flooded me. I felt safe with him here. No longer worried or upset, just safe.

And loved.

“Shall we go sit down?” he asked. “We need to talk.”

“Yes.”

We sat on the sofa. Jordan bent down and picked up my headphones, lifting his eyebrow in a silent question.

“Noise-canceling headphones. I haven’t been sleeping well and I was so tired I thought a nap would help. I put them on to stop hearing the thunder. I must have rolled, and they fell off.”

“Then you heard the door squeak?”

I took a sip of my tea. “Not exactly.” As simply as I could, I explained my strange dream to Jordan. He listened, not interrupting, then rubbed his face.

“You really think Max was telling you I was here? To go to me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I heard the knocking in my sleep and somehow manifested it into the dream.” I shrugged.

He shook his head slowly. “But you think Max was here?”

“I’ve dreamed of him before,” I admitted. I extended my hand, clasping his. “You were right, Jordan. I was being a coward.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I was upset.” He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingers. “You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

“No, I was scared. I felt so much for you and it worried me. I felt disloyal to Max and the years we spent together. As if they meant so little, I could move on and fall in love with someone else so fast. And the thought of loving you—maybe losing you one day—was too much too handle.”