“I’m not sure that’s the best id—”
“It’s fine. You should go see if Dodge needs an excuse to leave the hen house.”
“Well, okay … I guess.”
“Bye, Jim.” She waved without another look back.
The room was black, trapped in silence until Jillian gently shut the bedroom door behind her. Breathing in a shaky breath, she slipped off her boots and clothes, then slid under the sheet.
AJ didn’t move. Pressing her lips to his shoulder, she waited to feel his heart … waited to feel his next breath. His chest rose and fell in a long, relaxed breath, and she sighed.
“I’d take it from you if I could. You have so much more to live for than I do,” she whispered, resting her hand against the side of his head as he continued to sleep. “I forgive you.” Uninvited tears stung her eyes. “I know you’re going to leave me.” She bit her upper lip, hard. “It’s okay to go. They need you more.”
Maybe someday it would be okay for her to need someone more than anyone else. Then again, maybe she was the ultimate survivor and needed no one. Who could live like that?
“What if I need you more?” AJ whispered, startling Jillian.
Resting her cheek on his back, she snaked her arms around his waist. He grabbed her hands and squeezed them, wringing the tears from her eyes—the life from her soul.
“Then I’m the luckiest woman alive. And I know I am … but not because you’re going to stay. It’s because I’ve had the privilege of loving a man that’s going to be completely selfless and go home for all the right reasons.”
“I have season tickets to Cage’s games. I want you to go to them … all of them.”
She squeezed his hands back. So. Very. Tight. “K.”
“And I want you to make sure he stays out of trouble. I know that’s a tall order for you.”
Jillian smiled.
“When?”
“When?” he questioned.
“When are you leaving?”
His chest expanded slowly. He inhaled a deep breath, the kind that gave one courage. “I’m going back with them tomorrow.”
She held her breath. She held everything completely together—absolutely still.
“Jillian?”
“Hmm?”
He rolled over and pulled her into his arms. The desperation in their embrace crushed something inside her. Something that could never be repaired.
“I need you to be okay with this. You are the strongest person I have ever met, and I’ve met some really strong people. If you can’t do this, I won’t be able to either.”
That strength he referred to had become her greatest weakness. A burden—a curse.
“Tell me you’ll be okay.”
A little girl’s voice—the one she heard when Claire died, the one that wept for her parents, and the one that whispered goodbye to her heart in argyle socks—it screamed so loud.
I’m not okay. I’m not strong. I’m not anything you think I am!
“I’ll be okay,” she whispered.
*
Cage James Monaghan came into the world at six fifty-five in the evening on August third. It was the only time Brooke had seen AJ cry. He held his son in his arms and promised to give him everything.
AJ added father to his list of failures in life, but Cage never did. While he loved his mother, he wanted to be with his father the hero. It was bittersweet trying to live up to the rock star status Cage had bestowed upon him. The gifted son of the fucked-up war veteran grew up to be a good man, a hard working student, and an amazing quarterback. All despite AJ’s influence.
The packed stadium roared to life as the sun made a brief appearance to say everything would be okay. Cage would be okay.
AJ didn’t keep track of the score. He watched his boy light up the field, his ex-wife cheer on their son, his parents beam with pride every time Cage completed a pass, and the deflated woman who took so much more than he ever imagined he had to give.
Jillian clapped when the crowd clapped and stared at the field the entire time. He heard her every word that morning. Felt the depths of her grief—saw the vacant look in her eyes. Every day he saw deeper into her heart … into her past. In such a short amount of time the things he hated most about her turned into the things he couldn’t imagine living without.
If she ever stopped getting the mail in her boots and panties, it would be the greatest crime ever at Peaceful Woods. The sex toy consultant with a Harley—that was Jillian. That was the woman he loved. That was the woman he fucked like his life depended on it. Somehow he knew the last image he would ever have would be of her.
“Good game, huh?” His dad rested a firm hand on AJ’s shoulder as the team walked off the field, celebrating their first victory.