He looked down at her and nodded. “Is she still awake?”
“Probably.”
He laced his fingers through hers and looked at the other three men. “We’ll catch up with you in the cafeteria in a little while.”
Tim offered up a wink and corralled the others, herding them toward the elevators.
Jack led her back down the hall to his mom’s room. Outside the door, he leaned in again and whispered, “I promise I’ll tell you the entire story in a little bit, but not right now. Not in front of her.”
Gwen nodded.
The others had left in an elevator. Jack cupped her cheek with his palm and brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’m sorry I was an ass. I’m not good at groveling, but maybe if you give me some hints and let Tim coach me, I can do it pretty well.”
She felt her heart slipping again despite wanting to protect herself. “Maybe I won’t make you grovel too badly.”
He led her into the room. Instead of napping, his mom sat up in bed, the TV remote in her hand. She flipped channels randomly, apparently fascinated more by the function of the clicker than the actual programming choices.
“Mom, how are you feeling?”
She smiled at him. “I’m fine. You brought Melodie back. That’s good.” She put down the remote and waggled a crooked finger as she scolded him. “You scared me to death. You told me Melodie died. I knew that couldn’t be right. That was a mean trick.”
Gwen felt his grip tighten on her hand, but she suspected it was his stress, not him trying to impart a silent message to her. “Mom, this is my friend, Gwen Oxford. She’s a writer.”
His mom frowned. “That’s Melodie.”
Jack’s voice softened. “Melodie died in the accident, Mom. She looks a lot like Melodie. You’re just a little confused. That happened nearly twenty years ago.” He released Gwen’s hand and walked over to the bedside, where he sat in the chair his father had vacated moments earlier.
His mother’s face grew sad. “Melodie’s dead?”
He sadly nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Mom.”
“But Pete was here earlier.”
He frowned and looked up at Gwen. She silently mouthed, “Liam.”
Obvious relief washed over his face. “That wasn’t Pete. That was Gwen’s brother, Liam.”
“I could have swore it was Pete I saw earlier. We had a nice chat.”
“No, Mom. It was Liam. Or maybe you’re thinking of Tim. He was here, too.”
“I know who Tim is. I know who Pete is. I saw him before. Then he came back with Gwen.” She looked sad again. “I miss Pete. You three were so happy together.” She stroked his cheek. “I know you three were living together. You couldn’t fool me.” She poked his hand, which rested on the bedrail. “You thought you were fooling me, but I knew better. You and Pete were together, and then you fell in love with her. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think your father knew about you and Pete. I didn’t know if he’d be okay with it. And it wasn’t our business anyway, as long as you were happy.”
Gwen choked back her own tears as Jack’s eyes filled. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Why?”
“I’m sorry if I let you down.”
“Oh, honey, you didn’t let me down.” She reached out and touched his cheek. “I’m so proud of you. You became a detective, you’ve done a lot of good, helped a lot of people. I wish you’d forgive Pete. It’ll eat you up. He can’t forgive himself, either. He told me so.”
Gwen suspected that stretched the limits of Jack’s already obviously fraying control. He leaned in and kissed his mom’s forehead. “I’m going to go grab a quick bite to eat. You should take a nap, Mom.”
“Okay. And say hi to Pete for me if you see him again. During the chat we had before lunch, I made him promise to come see me again tomorrow.”
“Sure, Mom.”
He snagged Gwen’s hand on his way out the door. She thought he’d lead her to the elevator, but instead he detoured to the stairs. In the privacy of the stairwell, he leaned against the wall, pulled her to him, and cried.
She didn’t speak. She held him, stroking his back, wishing he’d opened up to her before instead of lashing out in fear.
Plenty of time to armchair quarterback that later. For now, he needed her.
“You look just like her,” he eventually said. “I don’t mean a little like her, or a faint resemblance. You look just like her. Other than your hairstyle, you could be her.”
A mental chill washed over her. “Who was she?”
He uttered a choked laugh. “I can’t believe Mom knew. I thought we hid it so well. She nailed it, though. Me and Pete lived together. We thought we passed ourselves off as roommates, not lovers. We met Melodie and fell in love with her.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “He killed her.”
She gasped. “What?”
“Drunk driving accident. I’d had late classes, and they went out to dinner. He got drunk and they wrecked. She was thrown from the car. He was driving.”
She held him tighter. “I’m so sorry,” she said. It sounded lame, but it was all she could offer.
“Can you forgive me for being an idiot? I never expected to meet someone like you.”
“If you can forgive me for the donut cracks.”
He kissed her. “Yeah. No problem.”
They stood there for a long moment. She felt the tension in his body, the grief, the stress. “I need you to honestly answer me a question,” she said.
“Okay.”
“Did you fall in love with me for me, or because I look like her?”
The fact that he didn’t immediately answer her question did just that. “I do love you, Gwen.”
“I know you do. But I think we’ve got a lot to talk about later, don’t we?” She hugged him tighter. “If you want me to ever fully trust you, you have to open up and let me in. It’s damn sure not fair to Tim, either.”
He nuzzled her forehead. “I know.”
They left the stairwell, and he detoured into the restroom. She waited for him outside while he pulled himself together. Despite her love for him, she still felt the sting in his words when they parted before, the hurt she carried in her heart for months.
The question she couldn’t yet resolve now that she knew the truth—Would she ever believe he loved her for who she was, or for who he wished she could be?
They rejoined everyone in the cafeteria. After they were seated at a table with the others, Jack laced his fingers through Gwen’s. Tim stared at them from across the table. “Everything copacetic?”
Jack nodded before he looked at Gwen. She squeezed his hand and smiled. “We’ve still got some talking to do, I think, but it’s promising.”
After they bid good-bye to Jack’s father, Gwen rode to the house with Jack in his truck. He reached over and laced his fingers through hers.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there in Laguna,” he quietly said. “I was really looking forward to your book signing.”
“Tim told me.” She stewed for a moment, wanted to blast him, then let out a long, controlled breath. “Why didn’t you call me or write me if you wanted to apologize?”
“I didn’t know what to say. And at first I was so upset I was afraid I’d make it worse.” He looked at her. “Upset at myself,” he clarified. “I wasn’t sure how I felt, and I wasn’t sure how you felt.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she remained quiet.
“If it’s any consolation,” he said, “Tim didn’t speak to me for a couple of weeks.” He offered a sad smile.
That was a major difference, she now realized. He looked so much sadder, more careworn, than she remembered. Seeing the brief smile helped her recognize the look.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” Gwen said. Now wasn’t the time to get into a detailed back-and-forth with Jack about everything. She wanted to decompress, digest the new information, and talk more with Jack when he wasn’t so stressed out over his mom.