Page 57 of John’s Yearning

Ten minutes later, John pulled up to a small house in Noe Valley and pressed the garage door opener on his visor. The garage door lifted and he drove inside.

“Where are we?” Savannah finally asked.

He switched off the engine. “This is my house.”

Before she could protest or ask him anything else, he was already getting out of the car, taking the bag with him.

She didn’t move. He couldn’t possibly intend to introduce her to his wife. That would be madness. He opened the car door for her.

“You coming?”

A lump in her throat, she got out of the car and followed him into the interior of the house. John flipped a light switch in the corridor and set her bag down next to the door through which they’d entered. Ahead of her was an archway into the living room. John motioned to it.

“In here.” He flipped another light switch, and subdued light flooded the small but comfortable living room. “Take a seat.”

She followed his invitation and sat down on the couch. John sank into a broad armchair opposite her. Savannah listened for sounds in the house, but there were none. Nobody apart from the two of them was here. They were alone. Which begged the question: where was his wife? Visiting relatives? Was that why he’d slipped, why he’d slept with her earlier tonight, knowing his wife was out of town?

Not able to bear the suspense any longer, she asked, “Where is your wife?”

He met her eyes. “Nicolette is dead.”

A gasp burst over her lips and she pressed her hand to her mouth as if she could take her question back, but it was too late. “I’m so sorry, I’m—”

“You don’t have to say that. You didn’t know her. What happened to her happened four years ago. But sometimes it feels like it was yesterday.”

The pain in his voice was palpable.

“You see, you’re not the only one who feels guilty for having experienced pleasure. I know how you feel. I know how guilt tastes, how you try to deny yourself any kind of pleasure because of it. That’s why I’m determined to find Buffy, so you won’t have to go through this any longer. Because it will eat away at you.”

“Tell me what happened to her. To Nicolette,” Savannah said, because she could feel that he needed to talk, that maybe, he’d never talked about it before. That he’d kept it all inside.

For a long moment John was silent, and it looked like he wasn’t going to respond, but then suddenly, he started to speak in a voice that sounded as if he was talking to himself. “She was pregnant with our first child. A son. We were living in New Orleans, and I was working as a bodyguard. There was a big party that night. I was overseeing the festivities. My boss had invited Nicolette too, and I’d made sure she had a limo and a driver to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to drive herself in her condition. She was almost eight months along. So close to giving birth.”

Savannah noticed him take a deep breath as if to steady himself. As if to collect his strength so he could continue.

“When she didn’t arrive when she was supposed to, I called the driver. They were just reaching the exit ramp of the freeway. They were only a few miles away. The phone line was still open when a big rig slammed into them. Later we found out that the truck driver had been driving for ten hours straight and had nearly missed the exit. He took it too fast. Lost control of the truck. It fishtailed.”

Savannah pressed her hand against her mouth, suppressing a sob, while tears stung in her eyes. She knew how this story would end, but she knew John had to tell it.

“I heard it all, and I heard Nicolette. She was still alive. I jumped into the closest car and raced to her. I got there within minutes. I was so close to saving her. So close. But the crash had punctured the gas tank.” He lifted his head to look straight at her, though Savannah wasn’t sure he saw her. “The limo exploded into a ball of fire in front of my eyes. It was an inferno. But I couldn’t give up. I ran toward it. Somehow I managed to pull her out of the burning car. But it was too late. She was already dead. And so was our son. I wanted to die then too. I wasn’t that lucky. My boss had followed me and stopped me.”

“You must have loved her so much,” Savannah choked out.

“I still do.” John rose and walked to the fireplace.

Savannah followed him with his eyes and saw the photo that stood there in a gilded frame. Instinctively, she rose and walked to join him. When she was close enough to get a good look at the photo, she froze. The woman in the picture was a black beauty, her eyes shining with love, her smile infectious.

John turned toward her. “You remind me of her, even though in so many ways you’re different from her. She was Creole; her mother was from the West Indies, her father from France. And she accepted me with all my faults. Because she loved me.” He sucked in a breath. “And now I’m betraying that love. I’m betraying her because I crave you. I’ve desired you from the moment you walked into my office. I yearn to have with you what I had with her. And I feel guilty because of it. And scared. More scared than ever in my life.” His eyes locked with hers for the first time since they’d entered his home.

“Oh, John.” She could barely believe what she heard. So much pain, so much anguish.

He shook his head. “I can’t go through that again. I can’t survive it a second time.” He let out a bitter laugh. “What am I saying? Most people don’t even find this kind of love once in their lives. How can I hope to find it a second time?” He turned away abruptly. “I’ll take you to my friend’s house. I think it’s best for you. At least you’ll be safe there. You won’t have to worry about me coming to your bed and trying to force myself on you.”

“You’re not capable of forcing yourself on a woman, John,” she said. She was convinced of it. A man who could love so deeply, a man who experienced guilt so profoundly, wasn’t capable of hurting a woman he desired.

“You can’t be sure of that. Please, Savannah, please let me take you to Wesley’s house.”

She took a step toward him and put her hand on his shoulder, making him turn toward her. “I want to be here with you. For you. You were there for me when I needed comfort. When I’d nearly lost all hope of finding Buffy. Now I’m here for you. Nicolette would want me to stay to give you the comfort she can’t give you anymore.”