Finding Solace

“You’re right. I wasn’t.” He grabs the door and walks out, leaving me standing there with my mouth open. He’s never been afraid to take a conversation head-on. This isn’t like him, not how he usually is with me.

I hate that I’ve upset him, but years of brainwashing still rears its ugly head sometimes. I run out the front door just as he approaches his truck. Catching myself against the porch railing, I ask, “Where are you going?”

“I need my bike.”

“Don’t leave. Please.”

My words or maybe the plea in my tone stop him. With his back to me, he says, “I need to take a ride and clear my head.”

“Jason, look at me.”

When he turns back, his soulful eyes reveal such pain, and I hate that I’m the cause of it. Again. “I’m sorry I upset you. I don’t want any more trouble with him. I just want you. Please don’t be mad at me.”

His shoulders lose their tension as he returns to me. He stops on the bottom step like he did that first day he showed up here after the rain. His respect for me has been shown in many ways. We may have moved fast once we reconnected, but he took each step with care for my feelings. Even now, he remains a few steps lower. He doesn’t try to intimidate me like Cole. Jason humbles himself before me, and it’s a genuine sign of respect I’m still getting used to.

We also still have so much to discuss—our wants, our needs, our new dreams for the rest of our lives, but when we do talk, he communicates with me, not over me. “I’m not mad at you, Delilah. We’re not fighting. I’ve been here every day like I live here, and reality just hit me. We can play house and pretend, but this isn’t my farm. And as long as you’re worried about him and how he’ll react to my presence, it’s as if you’re not really my girl. I’m not giving you an ultimatum. I’m here for you however I can be, however you want me to be. I don’t care if I lose to him in football or in a fight or whatever. That’s all shit that’s built on ego and pride. But when it comes to you, I can’t be second to him. I won’t be. Not again.”

“You’re not. You never will be.” I move down until I’m equal in height, in standing, a partner, not a queen who needs her subjects to bow before her. Equal in all ways that matter. I keep my hands to myself, but it’s a struggle when all I want to do is caress that furrowed brow until the tension is released. “You never were. I don’t want him near you. I don’t want you hurt.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I can handle him?”

“He’s not the same person you used to know. You moved past the glory days of your football years. He didn’t. Two things matter to him—his ego and me—and you’ve effectively taken both from him since you came back.”

“You’re divorced. He can’t hold on to you anymore.”

“He’s an alcoholic with a gambling problem. He didn’t want the divorce. I petitioned for it after I got a temporary restraining order. The judge granted me a quick divorce, but that restraining order was lifted the same day because the good ole boy judge admired Cole’s football record.” I can’t stand the space separating me from the man I love. Even inches are too much to bear. I hate that Jason has come home to this. To me, with this dreadful baggage. “It’s not a matter of if he’ll try to get me back or hurt me. It’s when. And I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

He finally breaches the divide, holding me without pressure. “I’m not afraid. He can come after me as long as he doesn’t come after you. I won’t let him hurt you, Delilah. You’re my everything.”

My heart beats erratically in my chest. The immense amount of love I have for him has always been set to its own frequency. Taking this stunning man by the jaw, I hold him in my hands. “Were you always this foolish?”

“Only for you, honeysuckle.” We kiss, and I sigh, melting against him. “I might pay him a visit to put things to an end.”

“He’s not a reasonable man.”

He winks. “I have ways of helping him see the light.”

“Do I want to know what that means?”

“No, it’s better if you don’t. It’s safer that way. In the meantime . . .” He kisses my neck. “Want to go for a ride on my Harley?”

Now that is an offer I can’t refuse. “Absolutely.”

23

Jason

The wind whips around us. The road’s wide open. I could keep riding. I could steal her away from this life that’s holding her back. Would she stop me?