a long while.” He stopped for a second. “I’m sorry sounds too contrived for my actions, and my only excuse is that I was totally unprepared to deal with the death of someone I loved.” He stopped again. “When I saw you today, I realized I hadn’t forgotten a thing about you. I remember all the little details and—”
She broke in. “Please, Jackson, let’s not dredge it all up.”
He swallowed some wine, his eyes never leaving her face. “Okay, but I want you to know that time meant a lot to me.”
But not enough to bring you back.
She clasped her hands in her lap, thinking maybe that was all she needed to hear…now. Back then, she’d needed a whole lot more. But it really didn’t matter any longer. “What happened to your father?” she asked, trying to get out of dangerous waters.
Her shift in conversation didn’t escape him, but he let it go. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk about the past. “My father sold the business and retired. He bought a cabin on a lake and spends his days fishing and playing dominoes with his buddies. He still misses my mom, but he’s a survivor.”
“He never remarried?”
“Nope, he’s more interested in catching that big fish than catching a woman.”
“I’m sorry about your mother,” she said again.
“Me, too, Emily,” he responded readily. “And I’m sorry I let my grief overshadow everything in my life—even my word to you.”
She bit her lip; they were moving onto dangerous ground again. “Did you get married?” she asked abruptly, then wished she could take the words back.
“Yeah, a few years later I decided to settle down. My wife, Janine, was a…”
His voice trailed off as he saw the look on her face, and he quickly added, “I’m not married anymore. I’m divorced.”
“Oh,” she murmured weakly. It wasn’t the fact that he’d been married that startled her. She already knew that. But when he’d said my wife, an odd feeling came over her. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized she’d always seen herself in that position. Which was crazy, completely crazy.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he told her. “It was one of those marriages that should never have happened, and it didn’t take us long to figure out we were wrong for each other. I wanted kids and a family. She didn’t.”
“Why not?” slipped out before she could stop it.
“She’s a lawyer and works for a big law firm in Dallas. Her total focus was on advancing her career. I understood that. My career was important, too, and we both put in staggering hours. After about two years, I asked her to take some time off and have a baby. She refused, saying she wasn’t ready.” He paused for a sip of wine. “She has two sisters who’d given up careers to raise their children. She said she wasn’t doing that. After four years, I realized she wasn’t going to change her mind, and by that time we’d grown so far apart that the marriage was basically nonexistent. We both wanted different things from life and we mutually decided to call it quits.”
“You wanted children?” she asked quietly.
“Sure” was his quick response. “I was an only child and I planned to have at least two kids, the big house, a dog—the whole nine yards. I just forgot to mention those things to Janine.”
He wanted kids. She didn’t know why she was having a hard time grasping that. Maybe her guilt was spiraling out of control.
“I guess I was looking for what my parents had—a home filled with love and laughter.” He drank more wine. “But I don’t see that in my future now. I’ll soon be forty and I’ve resigned myself to being a fatherless bachelor.”
You’re not. You have a daughter.
The words burned in her throat and she ached to tell him. But what good would it do? Their daughter would be eighteen in August—a grown woman with a life of her own, which didn’t include them.
He interrupted her disturbing thoughts. “How come you never married, Emily?”
“How do you know I’m not?”
He grinned. “I asked someone.”
So did I. So did I.
“Well?” he persisted.
She shrugged. “I was busy with medical school, then establishing a practice. I guess I never had time to develop a lasting relationship.”
“But there were men?” He couldn’t prevent the question.
Her eyes met his. “Yes, but no one ever overshadowed my career.”
Or you.
He raised an eyebrow. “So that’s what a man has to compete with?”
Emily suddenly noticed that the restaurant was almost empty and it was getting late. She could feel herself yearning to tell him about their daughter—but she couldn’t. She had to get away from him. “I really have to go. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”
Jackson reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet; he laid a credit card on the table. The waiter immediately took it and disappeared. Within minutes he was back, and Jackson and Emily got to their feet. They left the restaurant in silence, stepping out into a pleasant May evening. The night sky was clear and bright, and the traffic made a loud humming sound, but Emily was hardly aware of her surroundings as she walked to her car. Jackson followed.
She opened her car door and turned to face him. She didn’t know what to say. So many conflicting feelings surged through her.
“I enjoyed seeing you again,” he said.
“Me, too,” she replied, and meant it. Certain questions had been answered, certain issues resolved—and yet she recognized that the past would always be with her. There would be no absolution. After hearing Jackson talk about kids, that was clearer than ever.
“I’d like to see you again.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Why not?”
“Because we can’t recapture our youth…”
Her words trailed away as he stepped close to her—so close she could smell his aftershave and feel the heat from his body. He cupped her face in his hands, and her heart pounded in her chest in anticipation of what she knew was coming.
His lips gently touched hers, then covered them with a fierce possessiveness she remembered despite all the years that had passed. He didn’t touch her anywhere else. He didn’t need to. Her lips moved under his and she kissed him back. She couldn’t help it.
“I don’t think we have to recapture anything,” he whispered against her lips. “It’s there. It’s always been there. Ever since I first saw you in your mother’s kitchen.”
He
