CHAPTER 11
Saturday morning found me scrambling to get everything in my suitcase. I was suddenly a nervous Nellie to meet the Drakes, and I was honestly a little hung over after happy hour. We’d stayed later than we had meant to, and Jesse stealthily communicated to me via text from the other end of the table that it was no big deal to get my car the next morning before we left for California if I wanted to have more than one glass of wine.
I was regretting the four more glasses of wine as my head pounded the next morning. No one except Quinn knew about our situation, but I had nearly spilled the beans the night before. I had stupidly confessed to the entire group that I was getting a divorce, and I saw Jesse’s shocked eyes as I made my announcement. I was about to say that I was already seeing someone new when Quinn stopped me and pulled me to the restroom with her.
Thank God for good friends who know how to shut you the hell up when you’ve had too much to drink. Jesse and I didn’t need the gossip mill working overtime. We’d let people know in time, when the time was right. It still wasn’t even something we discussed.
In fact, I wasn’t sure exactly where we stood.
Clearly things were progressing between us, but I was still married. In some ways, I felt like I was in a relationship with Jesse, but in other ways, I felt like we were in a weird limbo zone. I still hadn’t had the feeling that he’d been sleeping around since I started staying with him. But really, all we had done was kiss. Some really, really hot kissing. Well, and we’d slept in the same bed together every night since the first time.
Apart from that, we were taking things slowly, but not because we didn’t both want more. Jesse didn’t press me for more, either. I knew he wanted it; he’d admitted it to me on more than one occasion, but we had the understanding that we were going to wait until I was no longer a married woman.
After we’d picked up my car and stowed it safely in the garage, we got in Jesse’s truck and started our trek toward California. He had carefully loaded the beautiful, now completed end table into the bed of the truck, wrapping it in blankets and tying it down with rope. We had a six hour drive ahead of us, and we planned on returning home either Wednesday or Thursday of the following week. That meant nearly two weeks in California with Jesse Drake, and I was ecstatic for the getaway.
Richard randomly prickled in my mind as we pulled out of the driveway. I hadn’t heard from him since he told me I had to move out of Jesse’s. A strange feeling pulled at me as I thought about what his reaction must’ve been when he realized that I hadn’t moved out.
“You’re quiet,” Jesse commented as we pulled out of his neighborhood.
“Sorry.”
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Richard just popped into my head.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. But I haven’t heard from him since he told me that I needed to move out of your place, and it scares me that I don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s dangerous, Jesse.”
He grabbed my hand and brought my fingertips to his lips. “You have nothing to worry about, V.”
I smiled. Just like that, I felt better. I knew he was right.
We played the “Name that Song” game with my iPod on shuffle for awhile, and then Jesse became quiet and introspective.
We were about two hours into the trip, driving through the barren desert landscape. Traffic was light, and I felt Jesse pulling further and further away from me.
“What are you thinking about?” I finally asked, feeling the urge to help him through whatever he seemed to be suffering.
He glanced over at me, and then he stared straight ahead at the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly in both of his hands. “My sister,” he said, his voice a whisper.
That wasn’t what I had expected to hear. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. He blew out a breath. “I have some… things I should probably tell you before we get to my parents’ house.”
I felt one of those ripples of fear of the unknown travel down my spine. I waited patiently and quietly for another piece of the Jesse puzzle – this one perhaps the biggest, the one I’d been waiting for – to finally click firmly into place.
“Monday marks the fifteenth anniversary of my sister’s death.”
The fear running through my spine was replaced with compassion. “Oh my God, Jesse,” I whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He nodded, his eyes still focused straight ahead. Clearly this was a difficult conversation for him to have. I’d never seen him so withdrawn, even when he left to go see whoever Carly was. I wanted to see his eyes to know how this still affected him, even after fifteen years. His eyes truly were the window to his soul, and I knew that I’d get a better gauge on him if he’d just look at me. But he was driving, and maybe he’d specifically saved this conversation until this moment for that very reason.