Sadness washes over me when the announcement comes saying we can board the plane. I know we have a lifetime of beautiful memories ahead of us, but I’m not ready to go home yet. There’s no pressure here. No worries. None of life’s troubles. Just us, and sheer bliss.
Before we board the plane, Brock hands me another tiny piece of tissue paper, and I’m immediately smiling.
‘This is the last charm I’ll be giving you on this trip,’ he says. ‘To me it’s the most important one of all.’
I can’t imagine anything more important than the tiny ring charm he gave me just before he proposed. Every charm is special, but that will forever be my favourite. The night he asked me to marry him is a night I’ll never forget.
Eagerly, I unwrap the paper to find a tiny red jewel inside. It’s been carved into the shape of a heart.
His expression suddenly turns serious as he shoves his hands nervously into his pockets. His vulnerable side is emerging and it puzzles me. The moment he speaks I understand why.
‘You’re the first person I’ve ever given my heart to, Jade, please look after it.’
‘Oh Brock,’ I whisper. He has no need to worry about that. I’ll treasure his heart for as long as it belongs to me. Clutching the charm to my chest, my watery eyes lock with his. ‘I promise.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
BROCK
I find Jade in the kitchen when I arrive home a week after our return from Paris. She gives me a beautiful smile as I place an envelope on the table and go to her. It hurts my heart to know I’m about to wipe that smile off her pretty face. I’m having serious misgivings about pushing her into this now. But I’ve found information on Jade’s family, and everything she needs to know is now sitting in that large white envelope. Her father’s lawyer was very helpful, but the news is going to gut her.
At least she won’t be left wondering for the rest of her life.
I plant a soft kiss on her lips. ‘Hi, beautiful.’
‘Hi, handsome.’
Stepping back, I pull her with me until I’m seated at the table and she’s on my lap.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asks. ‘You look grim.’
‘I have some good news, and some bad news.’ I watch as her eyes move to the envelope sitting in front of us. ‘It’s about your father.’
‘You found him,’ she whispers as her hands cover her mouth. Her eyes fill with tears.
‘I found out what happened to him.’
‘Oh. Is it bad?’
‘Yes,’ I answer immediately.
She rises from my lap and walks back over to where she was preparing the food.
‘Jade.’
She ignores me.
Leaping off my chair, I head towards her. I slide my hands around her waist and turn her in my arms. The tears are running down her face now. It makes a lump rise in my throat. It kills me to see her upset.
‘Is my father alive?’ she whispers, and the pleading look in her eyes tears me apart.
‘No.’ I sigh when she covers her face with her hands and sobs. ‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’
‘How?’
‘Suicide.’ No point sugar coating it.
‘I’ll never get the answers now.’
That’s where she’s wrong. I have all the answers, including a letter from her father. I just don’t know if I have it in me to give it to her.
‘Come sit back down,’ I say, when her crying stops.
‘How long ago did he die?’ She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.
‘Come sit with me,’ I say again, gently pulling her towards the table. I’m relieved when she doesn’t try to fight me. ‘When you’re ready I have all the answers to your questions.’
I pull her onto my lap and her head comes to rest on my chest. ‘I’m ready,’ she says.
‘We don’t have to do this tonight.’
‘I’ve waited twenty-three years for answers, I’m ready.’
When I reach for the envelope, she sits up straight and squares her shoulders, bracing herself for what I have to say.
‘Before I show you what’s in the envelope, let me tell you what I know. Your parents’ names are Colin and Patricia Davis.’
‘Colin and Patricia,’ I hear her whisper as a small smile crosses her face.
‘Your mother died during childbirth.’
‘I already know that,’ she says. ‘What about my father?’
I pause. ‘He died when you were six months old.’
‘Oh,’ she says, her shoulders slumping. ‘That would’ve been around the time I went into foster care.’
‘Yes.’
‘I hope it wasn’t because of me.’
I can’t answer that. There’s a letter addressed to her, and though I haven’t read it, I can’t imagine that being the case.