“Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime. And Jack? Don't close the door completely. Leave it open just a crack. You never know what might walk through.”
Months later, after he walked across the stage at his graduation, celebrated with friends, and went to dinner with his family, he felt his phone vibrate with a text. When he looked down at the screen, his heart stuttered to see it was from Rachel. They had continued to text occasionally and talk on the phone once or twice, but a chasm had grown between them, and he wondered if it would ever heal.
Congratulations. I hope life brings you everything you’ve hoped for. Your future is bright. Take care of yourself, Jack. I'll always love you.
Jack read the message three times, then carefully saved it before putting his phone away.
He would always love her too. That was the problem. But sometimes love wasn't enough. Sometimes you had to choose duty over desire, career over comfort, and the right path over the easy one.
But he would pray that someday, somehow, their paths would cross again when the timing was finally right.
9
Four Years Ago
Rachel walked across the grass in the cemetery, staying in the background. The crowd gathered at the gravesite was large, a testament to the man being laid to rest today. George had been beloved in Baytown, known for his gruff exterior and soft heart.
It was easy for her gaze to land on Jack. He stood tall and dignified in his dress uniform. But then, her gaze would have found him no matter what he was wearing. The magnetism between them was still strong.
They were burying George, a man whom Jack considered to be like a beloved grandfather.
Rachel had loved spending time at the Hudson house during high school, and George had always been there. Delightful, funny, eccentric. He'd tell stories about his younger days, offer unsolicited advice about everything from cars to romance, and always loved the desserts Rachel would bring once she realized what a sweet tooth he had.
And now he was gone. Passed away quietly in his sleep last week.
Her gaze raked over Jack as he stood at the front of the gathering, his face solemn. Even from a distance, Rachel could see the grief etched in the set of his shoulders and the tight line of his jaw. He'd flown from California for the funeral, and she knew he must be exhausted from the jet lag, time changes, and grief.
Rachel had planned to stay in the back, pay her respects quietly, and slip away before Jack noticed her. But as though he felt the same magnetism she had, he turned, and his eyes found hers across the crowd.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Jack started walking toward her, weaving through the other mourners with purpose.
Rachel's heart hammered in her chest, and her feet stayed rooted to the grass as Jack approached. When he reached her, he didn't say anything at first. Just looked at her with his intense gaze that still made her breath catch. Then he lifted his hand.
Rachel never thought to deny the gesture. Her hand slipped into his as easily as breathing, and the familiar warmth of his palm against hers made her chest ache. It was so achingly familiar. Like coming home.
She pushed those thoughts away as he led her over to where Carrie and Colt greeted mourners. Carrie smiled warmly when she saw Rachel, and she pulled her into a tight hug.
“Rachel, honey. Thank you for coming.”
“Of course.” Rachel hugged her back, breathing in Carrie's familiar perfume. “George was special. I wanted to be here.”
Colt nodded her way, his expression gentle despite the grief in his eyes. He pulled her in for a brief hug, the kind that said she was part of their family, even if time and distance had complicated things between her and Jack.
Colt and Carrie's younger children hovered nearby. Carson and Beth were now in elementary school. George had also been their stand-in grandfather.
Rachel hugged them both, offering quiet condolences about George no longer being with them. Beth shifted over to Rachel and held her hand. Carson looked up at her with tearful eyes, and she offered him a little smile.
The normalcy of it struck her. Standing here with Jack's family, being folded into their grief, she felt like she belonged. She had once been part of this family. Had spent countless dinners at their table and countless weekends in their home. Had imagined a future when she'd officially join them through marriage.
But life had other plans.
After the burial, Rachel and Jack slipped away from the wake at his parents’ house. Neither of them suggested it out loud, but when their eyes met across the crowded living room, they both understood. They needed to talk. Alone.
He drove them to their beach.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the water as they sat beside each other on the sand. For a long time, neither spoke. Just sat in silence, watching the waves roll in and out, the familiar rhythm soothing the raw edges of the day.
