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"No!" I was panicking. "No, that's not why I'm here. I mean, yes, I wanted to thank you for your help, but I would have
been here anyway."
"Well, I'll never know since you've had days to talk to me, to work through this. I feel used, Jax. And I told you from the beginning that was a big issue for me. You didn't want me when things got tough, but now things have smoothed out for you, and you want me back? How is that not using me? You should go. I'm sure it won't be long before you're able to find someone else to warm your bed."
She opened the front door and stood next to it, trembling and with tears running down her cheeks. My heart was a stone weight around my feet as I slowly walked to the door. She turned her head away from me and focused on the floor when I stopped in front of her. "There will be no one else, Grace. I know you don't want to hear it. I know I'm late in saying it, but I love you."
I dragged my finger gently over her cheek. She trembled even harder, but she didn't push me away. "I always have, from the moment I saw you at the wedding, I sensed my world was about to change. I was scared. Yes, you kept something from me, but I've kept something bigger from you, including being honest about the depth of my feelings for you. I'm so sorry."
Eyes that looked like glistening sapphires slowly raised to look at me. "You're not fighting fair." Another tear spilled over one lid.
"I'll use whatever means necessary if it means you'll give me a chance to explain. I need to tell you about my past." I continued to caress her cheek while I reached for her hand with my free one. I kissed her wrist and then held her hand to my chest over my heart. "Please."
She nodded, and I shut the door and led her to the couch. She kept her body as far away as she could, stretching out our arms. But I didn’t let go of her hand. I needed that contact, needed the strength she gave me even when she didn't know it. Maybe she sensed it, because she didn’t fight the connection. I rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb. This was harder than I thought, but I meant it when I said I'd do anything.
"I told you that Gene was my stepfather." She nodded. "And I told you my mother divorced him a little over a year later. But I didn't tell you why."
"I assumed it was adult stuff."
"No. I was the reason."
Grace's brow furrowed. "You were a child. How could it have been your fault?"
"I didn't say it was my fault, just I was the reason."
Narrowed eyes pinned me to my spot. "Look, Jax, if you're going to talk in circles, then we're wasting our time here."
"No. I'm sorry, it's not easy to talk about."
"What happened, Jax? Tell me. You're scaring me a little bit."
I focused on our hands and plunged forward. Other than a counselor, I’d never had to tell the story from beginning to end. Or, at least what I thought was the end. I realized now it was something that I still lived with. That I’d always live with.
"My parents were young when I was born. But even as a little boy, I knew how much they loved each other. Our lives were simple, but happy. My dad was part of the Army reserves when he was called up for active duty. You already know how that turned out.”
I dared to glance at Grace. She was sensitive enough that even without knowing my dad, she was blinking hard. I squeezed her hand and kept going before I lost my courage.
“Life got hard after my dad was killed. Money was tight. Even though we had some income coming in from insurance policies and other death benefits, it wasn't enough to keep up with the bills. She was determined we'd keep our house, but it meant she had to find more than the part-time work she had. She'd been so young when she had me, only twenty, so job opportunities were limited for her, and not many people were hiring. A friend helped her get a job working at a diner. She took every shift they'd give her. The owner had a soft spot for her, and he let Mom bring me with her when I wasn't in school. It's where we got most of our meals, which also saved a bunch of money."
"That's where you learned Spanish?"
I nodded, pleased she remembered. "I even was allowed to bus some tables when I was a little older to help earn money."
"You learned your work ethic from a young age."
I smiled, glad she was at least talking to me. "My mom never complained, so I didn't either. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't bad either. I got a lot of attention from the other ladies who worked there, and the cook liked to teach me some skills. We were like a little eclectic family. But when she met Gene, she was happier than I'd seen her in a long time. He was good to her. And when they got married, she insisted on still working, but she scaled her hours way back. She liked being at home in the evening to help with homework and have family dinners."
"She's a good mom.
"She was. She is. She loved having a girl around the house, too. Gene had a daughter, Mallory. She was older than me, about sixteen to my twelve years."
"Oh. I didn't know Gene had a daughter." I wasn't surprised at her confusion. She wasn't the kind of child a parent bragged about.
"Were you close?"
"We started out that way. They both made my mom happy, so that made me happy."
"So, what happened? Just typical step-parenting stuff?"
