Jack

There’s no way I can say the L-word so soon. Can I?

But even as I sit there in a more overwhelming afterglow than I ever dreamed about when I touched myself at night, I feel something painful deep in my heart, a grim reminder:

I’m leaving for home tomorrow. And I’ll have to leave Jack behind.

6

Four long months later, Amsterdam a beautiful, unbelievable memory in the past, I’m walking the aisle as cameras flash around me, my newly earned Bachelor’s degree in my hands, just above my swollen belly.

Of course Jack knocked me up during our time together—how couldn’t he have? He was so powerful, so potent, that I knew from the moment I told him to come inside me I’d be pregnant. I wanted that, and I was filled with joy to be carrying his child now.

It was all I had left of him.

I’d left Amsterdam without a proper goodbye. I couldn’t face the pain of dealing with parting with the most incredible man on the earth. He wasn’t meant for some girl with a liberal arts degree and no big plans for the future. He was meant for some superstar model or something. That’s what I told myself, but the thing inside me was what really reminded me of him, and I felt his energy within me.

As I stride down the aisle, smiling in a daze at all my friends and teachers applauding around me, I do a double-take as I see someone striding down the aisle towards me.

My jaw drops, and immediately, tears start rolling down my cheeks. No way. How could he have found me?

It’s Jack, wearing a clean-cut outfit with gray pants, a white formal shirt rolled up to the elbows, and a black vest. Damn, he cleans up well! What a stupid thought to run through my brain as I start to run forward towards him, some of the audience looking at us in confusion.

“Jack!” I cry out as he catches me in those huge, strong arms.

“Jess,” he says, his own beautiful eyes shining with desire. With love. “Jess, you should have known I couldn’t let you go that easy, love.”

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” I sob, looking up at him as he looks down at my stomach, eyes widening with pride. “I couldn’t tie you down to me!”

“No, Jess,” he chides lovingly, “to be away from you would be the real torture.” Then he falls to one knee, and I nearly collapse as I see him take out a small black box.

“Jessica Martin,” he says, that rough, stubbly face smiling up at me with that irresistible smile, “you’re the love of my life, and I can’t go on another day without you—will you marry me?”

“Yes! I love you too, Jack!” I sob, nearly incomprehensible through my tears, and the audience around us applauds as he scoops me up in his arms, kissing me deeply on the lips as cameras flash around us, immortalizing the beginning of what would turn out to be a beautiful, everlasting marriage, each night filled with more passion and lust than I could have hoped for in my wildest dreams. It was perfect.

A work of art.