Gracie—
I know your books will be something we can’t salvage.
I thought I would begin replacing them for you.
I hope they make you happy.
PS – I will always be your protector.
Jaxson
I ran my fingers down the spines. My favorite series—the ones I wanted to suggest we read first for our book club. I picked up the phone and called his number. When he answered, I could hear the subtle sounds of road traffic.
“Grace?” he answered. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I got your books. Thank you.”
“I wanted you to have them. I was sure you were missing them.”
The words were out before I could stop them. “I miss you too.”
“Fuck, baby, I miss you. I’m sorry, Gracie. I screwed everything up. Even when I tried to tell you, to explain, I fucked it up. I can stand in front of a judge and wax on for hours, but I try to explain things to you, and I become an idiot.”
“You hurt me.”
“I know. I hated hurting you. I hated being the person who brought shadows into your beautiful eyes. I broke your trust—I know I did. But you still care—I know you do.”
“How can you say that? How well do you really know me, Jaxson?”
“I do know you. I know more than you realize.”
I huffed a sigh, but he kept talking.
“I know that you prefer cooked apples to raw. You dislike Brussels sprouts with a fiery passion that amuses me. That you sneak a little chocolate every day. That you save a little bit of extra fruit in the bottom of your yogurt because you like the sweet at the end.”
“You know those things because you’ve seen my habits,” I protested, even while I was surprised he noticed the yogurt thing.
I could hear the warmth in his voice. “I know that you love fuzzy socks on your feet because they are always cold. Nothing makes you happier than a naughty historical romance and a cup of tea with a cookie.” He paused. “You love your family with a fierce devotion, and you would do anything for them. You worship your father and constantly worry you will do something to displease him.” Sadness crept into his tone. “I hate the fact that marrying me has caused an issue with the two of you.”
“Then give me my divorce, and we’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want to, Gracie,” he replied.
“Jaxson—”
He kept talking.
“You’re kind and good. Sweet and funny. Intelligent. I love talking to you more than any other person in the world. I treasure our conversations, except perhaps this one.” He drew in a long breath. “You’re more beautiful than you believe. It’s the sort of beauty that lives inside and out. Your soul is pure and wonderful.”
His words stunned me. But they weren’t the words I needed to hear.
“And yet you still don’t love me.”
“Gracie, I care. I really care. It’s all I have to give.”
My heart broke again. “It’s not enough,” I whispered.
“I know,” he replied sadly.
The line went dead.
Chapter 31
Jaxson
I straightened my tie and shrugged on my overcoat. It was cold today. I drove to the office on autopilot, the place still mostly deserted given the early morning hour. Since I had spoken to Grace on the phone, there’d been no contact. New Year’s Eve came and went without even a text. To stay busy, I had been working, both at the office and home. Grace was in my thoughts constantly, her absence from my life somehow magnified more than I had expected. Considering how short our relationship had been, her impact on my daily routine was astounding. I was anxious to see her today, although I wondered how she would react to the news being announced. How she would take the information I had to give her.
I had to let her go. I couldn’t give her what she needed to be happy, and I couldn’t stand to be the cause of her unhappiness. It was as simple as it was complex.
Michael walked in, not surprised to see me at my desk so early. He carried a cup of coffee and set it down in front of me.
“Hey, boss man. Happy New Year.”
“Not much happy, but same to you.”
He frowned. “I thought…” He trailed off. “Grace?” he asked quietly.
“She’ll be here soon, I think. Her cousin is driving her in from Port Albany.”
He sat down, uninvited. “Is she not here with you?”
“No.”
“I thought after the fire and everything else, you’d have worked it out.”
I rarely got personal with anyone, but for some reason, the chance to talk grabbed hold.
“We can’t work it out. She wants something I can’t give her.”
“What is that?”
I met his gaze. “She wants what her parents have. What her entire family seems to drown in. Love.”
“And you don’t love her? I call bullshit on that one. You certainly act as if you do.”