The silence that followed was deafening.
Chapter Thirty
Leah
I heard Jack approach and then listened to his apology. I wanted to stand up and yell at him and make him feel as terrible as I felt. But I knew that he had only meant to help and that yelling at him would only serve to upset me more. Plus, I didn't want to yell at my boss and find I'd lost my job on top of everything else. So, I said nothing.
"Leah, I really am sorry," Jack said as he sat down next to me. He sat close enough that I could feel the heat from his body and, while everything in me wanted to lean in and feel him pressed against me, I also wanted to run away.
"I know you meant well," I said wiping the tears from my cheeks and offering him a weak smile. "I appreciate the gesture."
"It's not just a gesture," he said as he looked at me. "I really do want to help. I don't want you to stress about having to find a place to live on top of everything else. I know it can't be easy."
"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to hide the fact that my life was in shambles.
"I mean, Riley told me a little about what's going on at home and I just . . ." he trailed off.
"You just see us as a great way to do your charity work, don't you?" I said bitterly as I felt the resentment and anger rising in my throat. How dare he pity me! "Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Yates. I work hard to do the best I can to support my family, and I'm not a charity case to ease your guilt!"
"Leah . . ." he said holding up a hand to stop me, but I was on a roll. The emotions that had been building reached their peak, and Jack had knocked down the dam that had been holding them back.
"No, you listen to me!" I shouted. "I'm sick and tired of being 'poor Leah,' the girl whose sister ran off and left her with her kid, or the girl whose mother drinks like a fish and burns down the house, or the girl whose brother ran off and became a priest just to avoid having to deal with such a messed up family! I'm sick and tired of it! I want a life that is happy and has some hope of getting better!"
Jack sat next to me, listening calmly as I let loose with a torrent of anger and resentment and, by the time I was done, I was sobbing loudly as all the pain and disappointment flowed out. Jack leaned over and put an arm around me and drew me to him, holding me tightly as I cried.
"It's okay, Leah," he whispered as he rested his chin on top of my head. "Let it all out. It's okay. I understand."
It took me a long time to stop crying, but Jack sat patiently, waiting for the storm to pass and occasionally patting my shoulder as he reminded me that it would all be okay. When I felt like I'd finally cried the last tear, I wiped my face as I sniffled. Jack offered me a handkerchief.
"I didn't know guys still carried these things," I said as I blew my nose.
"My Pop was big on tradition," he said. "Linc and I always got a box of handkerchiefs for our birthdays. And any other holiday, really."
"Wow, how well did that go over?" I said, laughing weakly.
"Not well," he said grimly.
"I'm sorry," I said peeking up at him and seeing that he was serious. "That must have been rough."
"My father was a rough man," he nodded. "He had a very specific way of seeing the world, and we were expected to adopt that way or suffer the consequences—but this isn't about my childhood. This is about how you feel and what you want to do next."
"It's okay, Jack," I said, sitting up and looking at him. The thoughtful expression on his face told me that he was focused on solving my problems not talking about his own. "It's weird how parents can appear so different to the outside world than they do to their kids, isn't it? My mother is the nicest person on Earth to strangers, but at home . . . when she's been drinking, it's a whole different matter."
"My father was always nicer to strangers than he was to us," Jack admitted. "It made me feel like there was something really wrong with me because I wondered why he couldn't be nice to me, too."
"I've always thought it was because my mother felt so much pressure to make sure we were well behaved and grew up to be successful adults," I said as I leaned into his body. "She didn't have that pressure when it came to strangers."
"I always thought my father was trying to fix what he'd done wrong by making us be better than him," Jack said. "Like he was trying to beat the bad out of us so that we'd be good without having to try so hard."
"My mother did that to Molly, my older sister," I said quietly. "I think it made her go the other way. She escaped into drugs and drinking because she felt like such a failure."
"I think that's what Lincoln and I did, too. We just had the benefit of money and an education," he said sheepishly. "We escaped into success, but it didn't make us better people, that's for sure. I think we're both equally miserable despite the fact that we've achieved everything my father hoped we would, and we both have more money than we know what to do with."
"Are you really that miserable?" I asked.
"I'm not miserable. I'm just not very happy," he sighed. "I feel like I've done everything that I thought would make me happy, and now there's nothing left to do."
"Wow, that's really . . ." I began, but stopped because I was unsure of what to say next. I didn't have this problem. I had so much I still wanted to do, but I didn't have the resources I needed to be able to do it.