Once in Every Life

He had to get out of here. Now, before the darkness came. Before he hurt someone. Shaking, breathing hard, he reached for the door.

Something grabbed his arm. "Jack, please ..."

He flinched at the sound of his wife's voice. Longing spilled through him in hot, desperate waves. He swallowed thickly. If only he could turn and take her in his arms and hold her until the danger was past, until she made it go away.

Maybe if you talked about it. Her words pushed their way into his foggy brain, bringing with them a need so strong, he almost sank to his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut, curled his hands into shaking fists. God, if only it were that simple.

He wanted to talk to her, ached to talk with her. The need to try was like a hard, dry knot in his chest. If only.

But he'd tried that before.

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The memory hit him like a splash of cold water. He couldn't talk about his past, couldn't reopen wounds that were held together with unraveling threads of fear. If he told her the truth about himself, this fantasy love affair would end. Either she'd remember why she'd hated him before, or she'd start fresh from today. At the end of his horrible confession, she'd look at him through new, narrowed eyes. She'd see his failure, his shame, and she'd never be able to love him again.

He couldn't do it, couldn't watch the love in her eyes shrivel and die. Couldn't bear the thought that the warmth of her touch would turn icy cold again.

He looked down at her, feeling old and tired. Their gazes met. Her dark eyes were sad?so sad, it shamed him to the depths of his soul.

"Stay," she whispered, clutching his arm. "Please ..." "I can't." His voice was ragged and torn. "But, Jack?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her at arm's length. "Don't you understand? I could hurt you. Jesus, I could?" He looked away. "Go back to bed," he said in a voice so frayed, he didn't even recognize it. "Please ..." Then, cursing thickly, he flung the door open. It hit the side of the house with a crack. She lurched toward him. "Don't go, please, we can?" He gave her one last, longing look, then he grabbed his boots and coat and ran from the house.

Tess ran after him onto the rain-slicked porch. Fear suffocated her, settled in her lungs like a dull, throbbing ache.

Rain slashed at her naked breasts and ran in rivulets down her stomach. Drumrolls of thunder pulsated through the night. Gray-black rain clouds boiled ominously overhead. Far below, angry waves churned and crashed against invisible boulders.

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"Jack!" she screamed, but the wind dashed her voice into nothing.

A series of lightning bolts shot from the heavens and illuminated the farm. In the flash of unearthly light, she saw him, a shadowy, hunched-over figure running past the barn and down the hill.

"Don't go ..." This time the words were no more than a whispered prayer she knew he couldn't hear.

The lightning flashed again, and he was gone.

Tess stood rooted to the spot, naked and shivering. Terror, colder and more debilitating than anything she'd ever known, washed through her in wave after ice-cold wave. Her body trembled with it, her eyes burned.

He wasn't coming back.

At the realization, Tess's legs gave out. She sank to her knees on the hard, wet floor. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and every breath hurt.

He didn't trust her. Even now, after everything, he didn't trust her. Maybe he never would.

"Please." The word was a broken thought, a formless longing. "Please ..."

She brought her hands to her lap and stared down at the shaking, frozen fists. Tears squeezed past her lashes and blurred her vision. It was slipping through her fingers, slipping so fast, she couldn't get a hold. Everything she'd ever wanted or needed or ached for was here, in this house, and she couldn't hold on. He wouldn't let her.

A sob broke free and spilled from her trembling lips.

"Come back, Jack," she whispered, tasting the mingled moisture of her tears and the rain. "Please come back ..."

Tess stumbled back into her bedroom and co

llapsed on the bed. She lay there for a long time, curled in the fetal position, shivering and praying, Please, God, just bring him back safe. Please ...

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