Isn't It Time (22 page)

I shut off the lights as Nate followed me through the
house.  I stopped by the bathroom and pointed out Jack’s room.  “It’s right
there.  Make yourself at home and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He grabbed me and hugged me again. “Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Wake me up if you get up before me.”

“I will – and you do the same.”

“Sure thing. Good night.”

“Night.”

I left him by the bathroom and went into my own room,
closing the door behind me. I fell fully clothed across my bed and passed out –
unaware it would be the last night I would ever spend under this roof.

It was 7:40 a.m. and he should have already been on his way
to work but, instead, Jack was standing rigidly against the counter in his
kitchen, eyes to the back door, and he was fuming.

He had been up since 4:00 when, after tossing and turning
all night, he finally got up, showered, and threw on jeans and an old tee shirt
– not giving the first shit about what he looked like.

Spending the night with Angie. See you in the morning. 

The casual text had started his blood boiling with anger and
jealousy - until the feelings of betrayal overrode everything else. He spent
most of the night trying to turn off visions of Luke in bed with Angie, but
they kept coming and his anger escalated until he couldn’t sleep at all.

He drank coffee as he paced, slowly, back and forth across
his kitchen, waiting, cursing out loud and occasionally slamming a fist against
a cupboard or a wall. It didn’t make him feel any better; all it did was give
him a sore fist - so he made himself stop doing that.

He didn’t know who he was angrier at: Luke, who knew damn
well how Jack felt about Angie; or Angie herself, who didn’t even give him a
chance before hooking herself up with the very first guy who entered the
picture.

And that she did that knowing how he felt about her was what
really hurt. There was no way she didn’t know. He couldn’t have made it any
more obvious without coming right out and saying it. He cursed again,
regretting his decision to give her a little time.

And now, as he waited for Luke to make his appearance, he
knew he was at a crossroads. He had to make a decision about the direction he
wanted his life to take.  And the one thing he knew for sure was that he had no
interest in wasting weeks, or even months, while he waited, again, for Angie to
play at another relationship - one that wasn’t with him.

He heard Luke’s car pull into the driveway and his whole
body tensed in anticipation of conflict.

The back door opened and Luke walked through it, looking
freshly showered and wearing a wide smile. It was the smile that made Jack’s
jaw clench and his hands automatically tighten back into fists.

“Hey. Good morning.” Luke’s smile dropped when he got a look
at Jack’s face and he stopped dead just inside the door.

“You know how I feel about her. 
You know it!
”  The
accusation was quiet, but vehement, and Luke pushed the door closed behind him
as he faced Jack.

“Yeah, I do know,” Luke said slowly, eying him warily. “But
I’m not really sure what you’re so angry about.”

Jack’s fists clenched tighter at his sides and he blew out a
calming breath before responding. “You know how I feel about her and you still
fucked her.”

Luke’s eyes widened and he raised a hand. “No. Absolutely
not.”

“Don’t lie to me, Luke. I need the truth.”

“I swear to you, I didn’t fuck her. We got drunk, I couldn’t
drive and I spent the night in your room. That’s all.”

Jack stared at him, assessing the probability of that being
the truth, then his fists unclenched and his whole body relaxed into a slump.
“Jesus,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. “I think I’m losing my fucking
mind.”

“She loves you,” Luke said, leaning with his back against
the door.

“I
know
she loves me.  She just isn’t ever going to
see me as anything other than a friend.  And now I’m thinking I’m never going
to be able to convince her that she should.”

“You’re wrong.”  Luke sat down at the table and made himself
comfortable. “Get me some coffee and a handful of aspirin and I’ll tell you a
story.”

Forty-five minutes later, Luke stood up and took his empty
cup to the sink. “And now I have to get home and, as your dad says, seal this
deal before she gets away from me.” He laughed and then turned to look at
Jack.  “I suggest you do the same.”

Jack gave a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks,
but I don’t think it’s that simple. I have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Why do you two have to make this so complicated? She loves
you and you love her. Easy, right?”

Jack snorted out a non-committal response and then waited
for Luke to gather up his things before they left the house together. They
shook hands in the driveway as they said goodbye, then Luke drove off to seal
his deal and Jack headed, unhappily, for the office.

I was worried about Jack.

He arrived at the office more than an hour late, unshaven,
and wearing old jeans and a navy blue tee shirt, frayed at the collar – a shirt
so ragged he normally only wore it when he was working in his yard.  Those were
my first signs that something was not quite right.  Jack was never late, he
always shaved Monday through Friday and he never participated in Casual Friday.

But when he strode right past me on his way to his office,
his face tense and unsmiling, and didn’t even acknowledge my greeting before
closing the door firmly behind him, I knew something was definitely wrong.

I gave him his space, working quietly in my office, and
keeping other people away. He would talk when he was ready and I didn’t want to
irritate him by pestering him with questions.

He came into my office twice to drop off work but he was
cool and distant and avoided making eye contact. He didn’t speak to me unless I
spoke first.  And when he did, his responses were abrupt, bordering on rude,
and he didn’t laugh, or even smile, all morning. 

I knocked on his door just before lunch and went in.  He
glanced up, then went back to his paperwork.

“Here’s your flight and hotel information for Chicago,” I
said, sliding an envelope onto his desk.  “The flight leaves at 10:00 a.m. on
Monday and your return flight leaves around 8:00 a.m. on Tuesday.”

“Thanks,” he said curtly, taking the envelope and tossing it
into his open briefcase. He returned to his work without another word.

“Jack? Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” 

He still wouldn’t look at me and I knew everything was not all
right, but I also knew better than to press an issue with someone who made it
clear they didn’t want to talk.

“Okay,” I said quietly.  “If you don’t need anything, I’m
going to lunch. Do you want me to pick something up for you?”

“No.”

“Be back in an hour.”  When he didn’t respond, I left his
office and pulled the door closed behind me.

I sat in my car in the parking lot, forcing down half of a
sandwich and worrying. In all the time I’d known him, I had only seen Jack
really angry twice before.  Both times were related to issues on a job site,
caused by employee carelessness.  But even then, he blew off steam and then let
it go. He avoided staying angry over things that couldn’t be changed, and that
made his current attitude even more upsetting.  He was definitely stewing.

He had never been angry with me before, but I was finally
wising up to the idea that whatever was going on with him had to do with me,
personally. But I had absolutely no clue what had caused it.

Everything seemed fine yesterday, so whatever was causing
his mood happened after work yesterday.  I started to worry that Finn had given
him some information that made me look guilty.  It seemed ridiculous and, if
that was the case, I would have thought Jack would confront me directly.  If he
would even believe such a thing in the first place, which I doubted.

The whole situation was making me tense and that, combined
with the over-imbibing I had done the night before, was giving me a pounding
headache.  I pulled a bottle of aspirin out of my purse and took two, then
picked up my phone.

I had my finger on the screen, ready to dial Nate to see if
he could offer any insight, when I paused, realizing my call might interrupt an
important conversation between him and Kayla. I cancelled the call before it
went through.

Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the seat and
tried to relax as I willed the answer to come to me. Several minutes and no
answers later, I again picked up my phone and checked the time. Twelve
fifty-five. I had to go back.

I dreaded the thought of four more hours of stress and
wished I could go home, take a nap, and deal with this later. But since that
wasn’t really plausible, or even such a great idea under the current
circumstances, I packed my phone back into my purse and went inside to face
whatever the afternoon was going to bring.

I stayed in my office the rest of the day wanting to be
available if Jack decided to talk to me, but his door remained closed. 
Fortunately the afternoon was quiet and no one else came in demanding to speak
with him.

At 4:00 I heard the door finally open and he stepped into my
office, briefcase in hand.  I looked up and offered a hesitant smile. He didn’t
smile back.

“I’m leaving for the day. I’ll see you Tuesday.”  It was the
most he had said to me all day, but he didn’t wait for a response and turned to
walk out.

The smile left my face. He’d see me Tuesday? What the hell?
We almost always spent time together on the weekend - and he seemed to have
completely forgotten that I was supposed to be staying at his house for the
next few days. My bag was already packed and in my car.

“Jack?” I called to his retreating back.

He turned halfway around and looked irritated.  “Yeah.”

“Have I done something to make you mad?”

He stared down at his shoes and rubbed a hand across the
back of his neck before looking me in the eye for the first time today.  “No,
Angie. You haven’t done a damn thing.”

And then he was gone.

Stunned and holding back sudden tears, I stared blankly at
the space he had previously occupied and whispered to the empty room, “See ya,
Jack.”

***

The rain that had threatened all day finally broke through
the clouds while I was driving home. The darkening sky and the chill in the air
seemed an apt ending to this perfectly fucked up day.

I drove home by rote, immersed in thoughts of Jack and his
strange behavior.  I didn’t know if I should call him, or maybe drop by his
house, to force a confrontation, or if I should just let it be and wait for him
to come to me.  I decided it would be best to let it go for tonight and then
attempt a conversation tomorrow, after we’d both had a good night’s sleep.

I ran through the rain and let myself in the front door
while my stomach simultaneously roiled with nerves and growled with hunger. 
The headache was trying to come back and I wanted nothing more than to give up
on this day completely and crawl into my bed.

Instead, I threw the overnight bag I wouldn’t be needing
back into my bedroom and took two more aspirin. I was suddenly craving comfort
food, so I got started on making a large casserole dish of macaroni and cheese. 
It was one of Jack’s favorites and, out of habit, I made three times more than
I would ever eat in one sitting - because I never knew when he was going to
show up at my door, hoping to be fed.  By the time I pulled it out of the oven,
and seeing that it was browned just the way Jack liked it, I was fighting back
tears. Normally, if he wasn’t already waiting at my table, his fork at the
ready, I would be calling him and teasing him with descriptions of what I was
having for dinner.  And then he would come right over.

But there wasn’t much chance of that happening today. Even
though I had technically been with him all day, I missed him. I couldn’t stand
the thought of him being so angry with me, but I couldn’t make it better if I
didn’t know what the problem was. I remembered all that my parents had said
about losing close friendships when two people drifted apart.  The thought of
that happening to Jack and me had been frightening enough, but an abrupt
ending, which is what this felt like, was infinitely worse.

An unexpected knock at the front door made me jump and I
hurried across the living room to peek out the side of the still-closed
curtains.  Jack’s Jeep was in the driveway and he was standing on my porch with
his head down.

The fact that he was standing on my uncovered porch, in the
rain, waiting for me to answer the door, caused both a sudden wave of nausea
and a sense of foreboding. He had a key and he never hesitated to use it,
barging right in at all hours of the day and night. He was always welcome and
he knew it.

I scrambled to the door and pulled it open, praying things
were about to be made right, but knowing deep down they weren’t.

“Hey,” I said.  “What are you doing standing on the porch?
Come in.”  I held the door open while he walked through, but he didn’t answer.

“Are you hungry? I made macaroni and cheese.” I was trying
desperately to pretend that everything was normal but the serious look on his
face told me it was not – and it might never be again.

“No, thank you.  I’m not staying.”

I closed the door and moved around to stand in front of
him.  “What’s wrong, Jack?” I asked in a trembling voice, bracing myself for
his answer.

He raised his head and looked at me and it wasn’t anger I
saw in his eyes.  It was pain and sadness and, if I didn’t know him better, I
might think he was trying not to cry.

“Look, Angie, I’ve swallowed my pride to come here in the
first place and now that I have, I’m going to have to swallow it further and
put all my cards on the table.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said while the fear and
nausea both intensified.

“I know you don’t and that’s really the problem.”  He looked
down again, collecting his thoughts, and then met my eyes.  “When I thought you
slept with Luke last night, I felt like you had shoved a knife directly into my
heart and then twisted it.”

“I didn’t sleep with him,” I began, not addressing the
bigger issue in that statement, but he cut me off.

“I know that now, but that’s not really the point.”

The thought that I had unintentionally hurt Jack, the person
who meant more to me than anyone ever had, or ever would, was repugnant to me. 
I wanted to go to him, put my arms around him and feel his arms around me while
I begged his forgiveness.  But I sensed he wouldn’t welcome the contact, so I
stayed where I was, pulled in a deep breath and waited for it.

“The point is, I’m tired of fucking around, putting my life
on hold, while I watch you wasting yours with guys you don’t even care about. 
What’s wrong with
me
, Angie?  What is it about me, specifically, that
makes almost anyone else a better choice for you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. I love you.” I could barely
get the whispered words out. He couldn’t be any clearer about the purpose of
his visit and my thoughts were racing as I tried to think how I was going to
make this right without hurting him further.

“Really?” His tone was sarcastic and he was scowling at me.
“You love me but you can’t see me as being anything other than a friend. Is
that right?”

Oh, God.  I needed to tell him. To explain. To make him
understand why I couldn’t give him what he was asking for. I wanted him. And,
more importantly, I needed him in my life. If he was gone, I didn’t know how I
could go on. And that wasn’t melodrama; that was fact.

“No! No, that’s
not
right. But there are things you
don’t know and I – “

“Stop.” He held up his hand and looked down again. He rubbed
his fingertips to the center of his forehead a few times before dropping his
hand and looking back up. “I know you have some big secret. And it’s also pretty
clear that whatever that secret is, it only applies to you having a
relationship with me. Because it doesn’t seem to stop you from fucking everyone
else.”

“Jack…”  I drew back as if he had slapped me, shocked that
he could say something so cruel.

His hand came up again.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” He
took a deep breath before going on. “The thing is, Angie, I’m not asking you
for a one-night stand, or even for some fucked up friends with benefits
arrangement.  What we have together is bigger than that. I know it and I think
you know it, too.”

“Yes, I know it.”  I was still whispering and he didn’t
acknowledge my response.

“It’s time, Angie,” he said quietly. “You need to make a
decision. I think you already know I’m in love with you - and I can’t imagine
ever being with anyone else - but I need to move forward with my life. I’d
prefer to move forward with you, but if you can’t do that, you need to tell
me.”

I sucked in a breath and let it out raggedly, fear and
longing combining in weird ways, and I didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t want you to think this is an ultimatum,” he said. 
“I’m not trying to force you into doing something you don’t want to do. All I’m
asking is for you to really think about this.  Admit that what we have together
is what some people spend their whole lives looking for and never find. Think
about all that we mean to each other and then decide if keeping your secret is
worth giving that up.”

The hurt look was back on his face and I bit down hard on my
bottom lip and couldn’t respond. He drew in a deep breath and let out an
exasperated sigh before continuing.

“I don’t expect an answer right now but, honestly? You’re
breaking my heart.  I can’t go on pretending to be your friend when we both
know I want all of you.”

I pressed my hands to my mouth as I shuddered against the
tears that were threatening.  I got myself under control enough to ask, “What
are you saying? Are you saying it’s all or nothing?”

“Yeah, I guess I am. Either we move forward together or we
have to stop having any kind of personal relationship at all.  I can’t do this
anymore.”

“I just don’t know what to do. I love you so much, Jack. You
know that. But I don’t know if I can…” I trailed off, not sure how to complete
that sentence, and the tears broke through.

“Angie.” He took me firmly by the shoulders, forcing me to
look at him but maintaining his distance. “You have to trust me.  If we don’t
have trust, then there isn’t any point to all of this anyway, is there? I can’t
help you solve this problem if I don’t know what it is.”

He released my shoulders, straightened his own, and stepped
back even further. “You can’t keep putting off making this decision. It’s time
to act like an adult, Angie. Talk to me about it.  Nothing ever gets resolved
by keeping things to yourself.  I’ll be home all weekend if you want to discuss
it. But do not come to me to talk in circles. Either trust me with your secret
or, if you decide you can’t do that, then show me the courtesy of coming to me
in person to tell me our relationship is over. Can you do that?”