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With any luck, Henry’s goons would get taken out by a slick jungle cat before they found their way to our little slice of heaven.
30
Melissa
The days started to pass by in a blur, and each day was slow and relaxing. Chase and Jackson went fishing most days while I stayed at the house to read or nap. There was a small TV in the living room but it didn’t receive much more than a local access channel and everything was in Spanish anyway. Most of the time, I’d spend the morning inside, baking some treat for the boys when they got back from fishing, and then lounged on the back deck with a cup of coffee. More often than not, I’d fall asleep listening to something on Chase’s tablet. The man had killer taste in music and a few movies loaded onto the device that I could access even without the internet.
In the afternoon, I’d walk along the shore until I found Chase and Jackson’s fishing spot of the day and would join in their fun. They usually brought home a few small fish and we’d walk back to the house together and clean them for dinner and cook over the BBQ pit in the back.
After dinner, Jackson would tell us stories he’d made up in his head during the day—Chase insisted that someday he was going to be a famous author—and then he’d eventually crash out from all the excitement.
Leaving Chase and me alone to enjoy some adult time.
Chase had made a few trips back to Matt’s boat to snag bottles of wine for us to try but the supplies were running short. Luckily, there were a few shops in town and as the city was only a short boat trip away from Manzanilla, I doubted it would be too much trouble to find more.
By the time we reached the four-week mark from the day we met Chase in a fast food restaurant, my life in California felt farther away than ever before. Sometimes in the quiet of my daily routine, while Chase and Jackson were off having an adventure, the memories of the past would come back to me, serving as a bittersweet reminder of what I’d left behind.
After everything that had happened, I knew my life would never be the same, even if we ever made it back home again.
I knew I’d no longer be content as a trophy wife, filling my days with mindless shopping, unimportant errands, and social networking with a horde of people who no longer had anything in common with me. It was like I shed that skin.
All of the things that had once been my life raft—the sprawling mansion, fancy cars, exotic vacations, and vast collection of designer clothes and accessories, were now nothing more than hollow reflections of what had been an unhappy life. In some ways—as crazy as it sounded—I felt grateful to Henry for finally pushing me away. He’d inadvertently opened my eyes to just how unhappy I was. And, though it made my heart ache to admit it, how unhappy Jackson had been as well.
In the time we’d spent with Chase, on the run, Jackson had transformed from a reserved, clingy, and somewhat spoiled child into a ball of light that spread sunshine everywhere he went as he made up songs and stories and a nearly constant stream of giggles. I thought back to my conversation with Chase on the boat following the hurricane, about how important it was to me that Jackson have stability in his life.
At the time, I’d seen it as something necessary for him in order to survive. I hadn’t been able to comprehend a life where we could ever be normal under the extreme circumstances we were thrown into. But the past weeks at the cottage had shown me that not only was it possible—it was coming to life right before my eyes.
There were still obstacles to overcome. I needed to figure out something to do in regards to school and finding more age-appropriate playmates, but I no longer felt the heaviness of guilt or fear that I’d ruined his life by bringing him along with me that day after discovering Henry’s horrible scheme.
Over the past few days I was feeling a little bit off and wanted to get out and get something to help settle my stomach. I also wanted to grab some vitamins for all of us, since we’d been eating a somewhat limited diet. At first, I assumed I felt run down and ragged from the after effects of all the stress of the storm and the events in Cabo, but after settling into life at the cottage for the last two weeks—I hadn’t noticed any improvement.
If anything, it was getting worse.
The night before, after Chase and I had stayed up talking in his bed, he’d gone to the restroom and I’d swiped some of the pesos Chase had left out by his wallet and small hand gun that he carried concealed under his shirt most days.
