by Odette Stone
Mortified, I lifted my head. He was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, an amused look on his face. Kill me now.
“Do you want to make a grocery list?”
I nodded again.
“Thanks,” he said, turning. I watched as he dropped his towel, giving me the most sublime view of his taunt naked ass. He glanced over his shoulder, busting me checking him out.
He laughed as I shot off the bed, eyes glued to the floor and hastened out of the bedroom.
***
The military grocery store was a medium-sized store. Jackson grabbed a cart and together we started walking the aisles together. It was bizarrely domestic to be shopping with him. Yesterday it felt like we were strangers. Today we felt way more like ourselves. I felt as if I could breathe just a bit easier.
I stood at the cereal aisle letting Jackson push on ahead. I noticed a brand of cereal that I hadn’t eaten since I was a kid. Of course it was on the top shelf. If I stood on my tippy toes, my finger tips could almost grasp the box. Suddenly I felt him behind me, his hard body against my back.
“Need some help there?” his voice was husky in my ear, as he reached up easily to the top shelf and pulled down a box.
“Thank you,” I said breathlessly.
He didn’t move away. Instead his body boxed me in, his warmth spreading through my t-shirt. He held the box in front of me.
“Quisp?”
“Don’t judge,” I said primly. “It’s a request of Alien.”
His mouth was against my hair. “You know this is just pure sugar.”
“I know,” I said sadly. “I should probably get some Cheerios instead.”
He stepped back and he dropped the box into the cart. “I’ll make you a deal. You can have your cereal but no comment when I put frozen cookie dough ice cream in the cart.”
My eyes went wide. “Cookie dough ice cream?”
His smile was teasing. “I thought I said no comment.”
This was the man I had fallen for in New York. I couldn’t stop the goofy smile from crossing my face.
He turned around and I saw his entire body jerk to a stop. At the end of the aisle stood a really pretty tall woman. She was wearing a pair of fatigue pants and a sweatshirt that said “US NAVY” on the front. Her wheat blonde hair was up in a pony tail. She stared back at Jackson.
“Is it true?” she asked loudly, her voice quivering.
“Fuck,” Jackson said beneath his breath.
“Harper,” he said in a neutral tone.
She started to walk towards us. The closer she got, the more beautiful her features became. A delicate nose. Porcelain skin. High cheek bones.
Gorgeous brown eyes that were filled with tears. Her lips trembled. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
“How did you find out?” Jackson sounded resigned.
“Someone from housing…I don’t know. The whole base knows. Do you know what it felt like to have 20 different people ask me about it today?”
“I only got back from training yesterday. I was going to tell you.”
Her chest rose and fell with emotion. “I don’t get it. I can’t wrap my mind around this.”
A couple of women with their carts stopped at the end of the aisle and watched with interest.
Jackson glanced at me. His expression blank.
“When you came back from New York for your arbitration review you told me that we were going to sit down and talk about our future. You told me that we were going to have a fresh start.”
The day after I had found out I was pregnant, Jackson had come back to Virginia. Everything was different when he got back from that trip. He came back different. He had told me to marry Matt after making it clear that he didn’t want the same things as I did. He had been resolute about ending things with me. Now I know why. She was standing in front of me.
I had ruined his plans by telling him that I was pregnant. I instinctively put my hand on my stomach and stepped back. Poor Alien. Such a traumatic, unwelcome start to this world.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed and I felt his fingers wrap around my arm, holding me in place. Her eyes went wide as she took in his possessive action.
She took a step towards me. “That should be me wearing that fucking ring.”
“Harper. Come on.” Jackson’s voice sounded terse.
Her voice escalated five notches. “You married her? That should be me. You know it should be. You said that it would happen if I was patient with you. You told me that you needed time and so I gave you time. I was patient. I was so fucking patient.”
“Do you really want to talk about this here?”
She was almost yelling. “Three fucking years. I gave you three years of my life and she comes along and you marry her in three months? How does that even happen? She stole you from me. She stole my life. She has everything to do with this.”
“Leave her out of this,” Jackson’s voice cut through her tears with force.
Brown eyes turned on me, a mixture of hatred and pain. “Fuck you.”
Then she turned around and walked down the aisle and disappeared. I looked up at Jackson. He was radiating energy but I couldn’t read what he was thinking. He felt like a coiled spring, all wound up and tight.
Avoiding my eyes, he rolled his shoulders. “Come on. Let’s shop.”
I could feel how hot my face was. I wanted to walk out of this store. I wanted to walk out of this marriage, walk out of this life and never look back. This was a nightmare of epic proportions.
We started to shop again, this time in silence. All the playful teasing and joy had disappeared. I tried to get a feel for what Jackson was thinking or feeling after that exchange, but he was completely closed off. Stoic. In control. I was no longer grocery shopping with Jackson. I was grocery shopping with a navy SEAL who was focused on getting the job done. I didn’t even care what we were putting in the cart. I just trailed after him, lost in my own thoughts.
Harper. Despite her tears and emotions, she had been incredibly beautiful. Tall and blonde. Athletic. Exactly the kind of woman I pictured him with. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he had dated her for three years.
I stopped in my tracks remembering her words. The week that Jackson had returned to Virginia he had told her he wanted to discuss a fresh start. Could this get any worse? What was I doing here?
He looked over his shoulder at me. Assessing me. Something close to frustration flashed in his eyes. His annoyance probably stemmed from the fact that he would rather be with her and instead he had me meekly trailing after him. I dropped my eyes, not wanting him to see how destroyed I felt in this moment.
Without saying anything, he pushed the cart to the check out and started unloading the groceries onto the conveyor belt.
“Oh my God, how young is she?”
“He left Harper so he could marry her?”
I could hear the whispers around me. My face was on fire.
“Can I help?” I said to Jackson in a small voice.
He glanced at me and ignored my question while he continued to unload the cart. I watched as he started to bag the groceries. When the clerk rang up the total I fumbled in my purse for my wallet.
He scowled at me. “Don’t.”
My face burned hot while he took out his card and paid.
He loaded up the truck and then we just sat there in the truck, neither of us moving. If I didn’t have Jackson’s child growing inside of me, I would already be on my way back to New York. Instead, I felt vaguely trapped and unsure of my next steps.
“Jackson,” I started, unsure what to say or how to say it.
He glanced over at me, something dangerous was in his gaze. “Not right now.”
I shrank back in my seat. His words deflated me. Defeated me. I hadn’t realized just how much I had needed to hear him tell me that it was going to be okay. To comfort me. His reaction made me feel lost and more alone than before.
I nodded wordlessly and watched as he started
the truck. Tears blurred my eyes as we drove back to our house.
Chapter 18
Jackson unloaded the groceries and helped me put them away. We worked in silence together. He seemed untouchable which further added to my own mounting insecurities. My nerves were so tight I almost couldn’t take it. I felt like a rubber band that was about to snap.
“What are you doing right now?” Jackson’s question broke through my thoughts.
I shrugged. I looked around the place. Boxes were still stacked everywhere. What I wanted to do was crawl into bed and not come out.
“Why don’t you start unpacking the bedroom?” he said. “I’ll work on stuff down here.”
I wanted to talk to him but the words eluded me. Instead I trudged upstairs and began to unpack. I made short work of my boxes of clothes and started on Jackson’s boxes. It felt weird to be hanging our stuff together in the same closet. It felt like we were two strangers playing house.
I could not stop replaying the scene at the grocery store. I had never seen Jackson react like that. For the thousandth time I questioned my sanity for being here.
I started loading his socks into a drawer and stopped short when I noticed the little blue Tiffany bag. Inside was a Tiffany ring box and a receipt. I stood there for a long moment holding it in my hand. I knew that I should just put it away, but I needed to know when he had bought it. Without looking at the price, I peeked at the corner of the receipt and noted the date.
Jackson had bought this ring just after Christmas. December 28th to be exact. This was Harper’s engagement ring. Heart in my throat, I was unable to stop myself from opening the box. It was a magnificent ring. It sparkled and glittered in the light. It suited her perfectly. This ring would have been beautiful on her hand. Here was more proof of how Alien and I had completely derailed Jackson’s future.
I sat on the bed and just stared at the ring. Had Jackson been excited when he bought this ring? Had he planned some romantic proposal? He had told her to be patient with him. She had been. This was the proof that he had meant to honour those intentions. Instead, I had gotten in the way.
“You want me to break down the boxes for you?” Jackson’s voice sounded from the doorway.
I looked up at him, my eyes wide. His gaze dropped to the ring box in my hand. His jaw tightened.
I resisted the urge to apologize for intruding on his privacy. He had asked me to unpack his boxes. I was his wife and I had just found an engagement ring for another woman amongst his stuff. I wasn’t entirely sure under the circumstances he owed me an apology, but I wasn’t going to say sorry either.
“It’s a beautiful ring,” I said, snapping the lid closed. “It suits her.”
His cheekbones became more pronounced as he sucked his cheeks in. He studied the floor between us. Green eyes finally raised up to meet mine.
He finally spoke. “I hadn’t given it to her yet.”
“You bought it.”
“We broke up before I left for New York.”
“I’m pretty certain you would have gotten back together.”
“I married you, not her.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I lied.
He put his hands on his hips. “You can’t just say that.”
“Say what?”
“Say that it doesn’t matter.”
What did he expect from me? Of course it mattered.
“You want to hear that it matters?” I raised my eyebrows at him and nodded, feeling my anger pulse and grown inside of me. “You want the truth?”
“I always want the truth.”
I could not stop the flow of words that streamed from my mouth. “Well, how about this? When a man buys a ring for a woman, it means something. Even if he hasn’t given it to her yet. I get it. I totally get it.”
“What do you get?”
My chest was rising and falling. “You chose her. You came back to Virginia and you chose her. You told her you were coming back to her. And you told me to marry Matt.”
He put his hands on his hips and blinked a few times.
“What I don’t understand is why you were so determined to marry me, when it is so obvious that you love her. She loves you, you love her and I’m here in the way. You manned up with all that navy SEAL honour and you got stuck with me.”
I could not handle crying in front of this man again. I put the ring on the bed and walked into the bathroom and then shut and locked the door.
“Emily,” he sounded pissed.
I sat on the edge of the tub and put my face in a towel to muffle my sniffles.
I heard the door handle rattle.
“Go away,” I said.
“You can’t just walk away in the middle of our conversation.”
“I was done talking.”
“I wasn’t.”
I lifted my head from my towel. “I need some alone time.”
Silence for a long moment and then I heard footsteps pound down the stairs. The front door slammed. I walked to the bedroom window and watched as his black truck roared down the road.
I felt bewildered as I looked around the room. I had no idea how to handle myself in this situation. What did he want from me? Nothing he was doing was making sense.
I dumped one last box of clothes onto the bed, stopping short when I found a large manilla envelope at the bottom of the box. I lifted it up and examined it.
In writing that I didn’t recognize, Jackson’s name was scrawled on the front. The envelope was bulky and opened. Without even thinking, I peeked inside. There was some papers and a flat journal. I chewed on my lip, knowing that I was crossing a multitude of boundaries here. I slid out the book and examined the cover. It was a flat black leather journal. It looked really old with weathered yellow pages.
I flipped open the cover. “Journal of Harry Jarvais.”
Harry Jarvais was Matt’s dad. Why did Jackson have Harry’s journal? Wouldn’t that be something that Matt should have, not Jackson? I looked at the cover of the envelope. Jackson’s name was written in the same scrawl. So Harry had given this book to Jackson? Why would he have done that?
Without thinking, I flipped to the next page.
Chapter 19
(Journal of Harry Jarvais)
Dec 26, 1986 - My wife Irene bought me this journal for Christmas. I always said that I wanted to keep a journal but I fear that I’m not going to be that good at it. I’ll do my best.
Dec 29, 1986 - Last night was a rough night at work. I responded to a domestic that was brutal. The female victim is known to the police force for both drug use and prostitution. The beating she took last night was so severe, I have no idea how she survived.
Jan 5, 1987 - Tonight when my shift ended, I went to see the female victim at the hospital. Her name is Melody.
Jan 7, 1987 - I went to see Melody again in the hospital. She told me that her mom died when she was eight. When she was 15, her grandmother, whom she lived with, passed on. She said she took up with a man named Wilson who eventually got her involved in prostitution.
Jan 15, 1987 - Tonight Melody called me at my desk. She told me that she was being released from the hospital but she didn’t have any place to go. She was asking my advice. Where should she go?
I drove her to a grim little motel at the edge of town. I paid for her room for a week and gave her enough money to buy food .
“You are the kindest man I have ever met,” she told me. She put her arms around my neck and hugged her rail thin body against mine. The scent of her hair, the soft touch of her hands around my neck, the sensation of her slight body pressing against me, drove me wild. I instantly was harder than I’ve ever been in my life. Dark forbidden thoughts about her flooded my mind.
Jan 17, 1987 - After work, I swung by the motel with a few groceries. Melody was so happy to see me. I’m a 32 year old officer of the law. Melody just turned 17. This is wrong on so many levels but I can’t help it. Lately when I lay on top of Irene, I shut my eyes and it’s always Melody beneath me, in
toxicating me with her smile, her eyes, and her lush ripe body. This is only going to end badly for me.
Jan 26, 1987 - I have broken my vows of my marriage. I have stepped out on Irene. Tonight, against my better judgement, I stopped by to see Melody. I did not know it could be like that between a man and a woman. I’m weak. She is a teenager and yet the unbearable lust she raised in me was beyond anything I have ever experienced.
Feb 13, 1987 - I can’t seem to stop going back to see Melody, no matter how much I tell her and myself that it’s going to be the last time. I hate myself and part of me hates her but it doesn’t seem to stop my depraved behavior. The things we do together. My God. This feels like a sickness, like an addiction. I’m drowning in my lust and I can’t get enough. I can’t stop.
March 10, 1987 - Melody told me tonight that she is pregnant with my child. I gave her money to terminate. She cried but she promised. Terrible thoughts of leaving Irene flood my mind. What if I left Irene for Melody and our child? I keep telling myself that this is wrong, but this thought returns again and again to my mind.
March 11, 1987 - I went to the motel tonight and Melody was gone. She has disappeared. I spent most of my shift driving the streets looking for her but no one has talked to her or knows where she is.
March 21, 1987 - I have spent the last 10 days looking for Melody but she has vanished into thin air. It may seem like I got away with my sins but I didn’t. The hell is that my mind replays every moment we spent together over and over again in my mind. I feel like I’m going insane. I need to forget her. She is gone.
Sept 26, 1987 - Tonight Irene gave birth to Mathew. My son. I have spent every single night since Melody has gone missing looking for her. Tonight that search ends. When I’m done writing this entry I will hide this journal in a box in the attic and I will try and forget about the girl/woman who took something from me and left without giving it back.
June 22, 1993 - Seven years have passed since I’ve written in this journal. The only place that made sense to write about what happened tonight was in this book.
Tonight I responded to a homicide. The female victim was shot to death. The victim was found naked in the tub, shot in the heart. It was Melody. She looked like she was asleep, her perfect features soft and beautiful even in death. I don’t know how I got through my shift. I was in shock, just going through the motions. Every time I have bedded my wife, I have needed thoughts of Melody to finish. And now she is gone. Her life was short, harsh and so meaningless.
