“If I could change that for you and take his place in Arlington, I’d do it.”
“That’s not what I meant. I don’t want that.” She’d said something pretty close to it, hadn’t she? “I’m sorry. It came out wrong. I was just stating a fact.”
She fought to keep herself together. “When did you figure it out?”
“The night you were sick. I saw the SOAR patch on my way out, and it finally clicked. Ellie Meeks. Dan Meeks. Crash.”
“You didn’t think it was important enough to tell me?”
“Not that night, no. You were sick, pale and dizzy. Daniel was sick and crying. You didn’t need a stranger bringing up the past.”
“Okay.” That was fair. “What about later? What about the night we first kissed and I told you all about him? Or how about when you were in his bed and I asked you if the photos of him bothered you?”
Jesse’s gaze went hard and cold, and he leaned in. “When I was inyourbed, the only person I was thinking about wasyou.”
Thatmade her mind go blank for a moment.
“I wasn’t trying to withhold anything from you. With everything that’s been happening, I just didn’t think about it.”
“You didn’t think about it?”
“I should have told you before we got involved. I’m sorry. I care about you. I—”
“You should go now.”
“Ellie, I—”
“I just need some time.”
A muscle clenched in his jaw. He stood. “If that’s what you want.”
She stood and walked to her bedroom, fighting tears. There on the walls were photos of the man she’d loved—and lost. What would he say if he knew she’d been sleeping with a man he’d known?
She sank down on the bed, looked at the ring on her finger, and tried to straighten out the tangled mess of emotions inside her.
She needed to talk to Claire. She needed to tell her sister what had happened. She walked out to the kitchen in search of her cell phone, and that’s when she saw it.
Her key.
He’d left it on the kitchen table.
* * *
Jesse heldthe bottle of rum, his resolve slipping.
Drinking won’t make it better.
No, it wouldn’t. He would just end up with a hangover to go with the sickness in his heart. Then again, didn’t heartbreak and hangovers go together? Besides, it might make him numb for a while, and right now he desperately needed to stop feeling.
He poured himself a drink, tossed it back, poured another, then went to sit in the chair in front of his wood stove, taking the bottle with him.
He had fucked up, and he was paying for it. Why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he come right out with it that first night? She’d been so hurt, so angry. But it wasn’t as if he’d tried to deceive her. He’d just forgotten to tell her.
Jesus.
He’d been so close to having something special with her, to being more than he’d ever thought he could be. He might have married her. He might have done like Nate and been a father to her kids.
Regret, cold and sharp, cut into him.