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Rachel knocked softly on the door and I called for her to come in. Hunter followed behind her, close on her heels, buzzing with energy, and completely oblivious. I smiled down into his sparkling eyes as Rachel handed me a hot cup of Joe. Hunter looked at me and then back at Rachel expectantly. “I was gonna take this guy downstairs to walk around the block a few times and burn off some energy. Did you want to go too?”
I shook my head. “No but thank you for taking him.”
She nodded. “Of course. Do you need anything while I’m out? I could stop at that little drugstore on the corner on the way back.”
Nothing sounded good. The food I’d eaten was bland, it had no flavor, but nothing else appealed to me. “No. I’m okay.”
Rachel considered me for a long moment, as though she was matching my words with my current state of mind. With a nod, she turned and left my bedroom, snapping her fingers when she got to the doorway to get Hunter’s attention. He scampered after her and minutes later, I heard the sound of him getting leashed up in the entryway and then the heavy front door closing.
I took a sip and then set the coffee on the dresser before sitting down on the edge of my bed and heaved another long sigh. My lungs felt better and it was easier to get a full breath. I lay back against the pillows and set my hands flat across my stomach, feeling the gentle rise and fall of each breath, thankful that I no longer felt like I was gasping for air.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my phone laying on the nightstand, plugged in to charge. My fingers itched to reach for it to see if there had been any new developments since I’d taken a shower. The last thing I’d heard was that an F-18 plane had crashed and a rescue team was being put into place to go in and search for the pilot. None of the news outlets had given any further detail.
I started to reach for it, but then remembered the promise I’d made to Rachel, that I’d take a little break and decided against it. Instead, my eyes landed on the leather bound journal underneath my phone. I’d taken up journaling in the wake of my divorce, at the suggestion of my therapist, as a way to heal from the negative feelings toward my ex-husband. I had journaled religiously every day for months before it petered off into a less frequent habit.
These days it was something I still did on a weekly basis, using that time as something of a meditation session. With all of the turmoil in my mind, I decided there would be no better way to clear my mind than to write things down, so I reached for the journal and pushed myself up straighter, using the headboard to brace my back as I flipped to a new page.
I journaled the entire time that Rachel was out walking with Hunter, taking the time to reflect on the feelings that had been building inside of me since returning from my vacation. It was as if each word or thought I got on paper uncovered a new layer to the way I felt. About Jack, Hunter, my ex—like an archaeological excavation into my heart and soul—removing layers of doubt, fear, uncertainty, and all I could see staring back at me was the truth.
I was undeniably in love with Jack McGuire.
It didn’t make sense how or why. The timing sucked. The circumstances sucked. But there it was…all the same…I’d fallen head over heels in love with a strong, secure, confident man that made me feel safe, treasured and adored, sensual and sweet. And most of all…free. He’d freed me from the pain of my past and helped me see that giving someone my heart wasn’t the end.
It was just the beginning—our beginning
The ink filled pages were dotted with smudges where teardrops had fallen, blurring the ink in navy blue circles against the ivory colored paper. I swished them away, leaving inky streaks behind. The tears I’d shed over penning the journal entry were not the same tears that I’d cried over the course of the day. They weren’t tears from fear or anticipation or loss. They were tears for the beautiful thing that I’d already found.
My journal entry spilled over into a long email letter. I’d held off far too long in telling Jack exactly what I felt for him. There had been many times I’d felt those three little words itching to roll off my tongue, but I’d always held them back, figuring it was too soon to really know how I felt about Jack or that our relationship was still too new and undefined to bear the weight of what those sacred words meant.
