But I did, and now that I knew the significance behind his words, I knew that he had been trying to save me.
And he had succeeded.
I would never have gotten to the point where I could do something so tragically drastic as to end it all the way his sister had, but he still saved me from the life I hated with Richard, even if at the time I’d live it with complacency and indifference and I didn’t realize how much I was missing by being trapped in a dead-end marriage.
“Jesse, it’s not your fault.”
“Deep down, I know that. After all of my training and my classes and my own therapy, I know that she had a disease that none of us had identified and that there was nothing any of us could’ve done differently. But it doesn’t stop the wonder or the blame.”
And then it hit me.
The tattoo. The phoenix symbolizing rebirth and renewal. The heart and the cross. Allison.
“What was her name?” I asked carefully.
He finally glanced over at me, for the first time during the entire conversation. I could see the grief in his eyes that he still carried with him after fifteen years. It was different from the haunted look that crossed his eyes when he came back from visiting Carly. It was hurt and anger and sadness and bitterness all rolled together, and all I wanted to do was take him in my arms and hold him. Pain like that doesn’t just go away, especially when he had to live with so many unanswered questions.
“Allison,” he whispered.
Mystery solved.
“When did you get your tattoo?” I asked.
“The ten year anniversary of her death.”
“Five years ago?”
He nodded.
“Why a phoenix?”
“The symbol of immortality. She may be gone, but she’ll always live in my heart.”
The image of “Allison” inside of the heart in the cross flashed through my mind, and I felt chills in my spine as tears pricked behind my eyes at his loss. “It’s a beautiful tribute,” I said.
A ghost of a smile lifted the corner of his lips, but he didn’t respond.
I wanted to ask about Carly, but he had already shared so much with me. I let it go. Just as he’d told me about Allison, he would tell me who Carly was when he was ready.
“I’m glad you told me,” I finally whispered.
His eyes met mine for the briefest of moments and then returned to the road. He pulled our still joined hands up to his mouth and brushed his lips across my knuckles.
“Me, too,” he murmured.
“Tell me about your parents,” I said, trying to lighten some of the heaviness that had descended on the car.
“My mom, Judy, is an elementary school principal. And my dad, Phil, is a doctor.”
“Wait. So your dad is Dr. Phil?”
He laughed. “Yep. So original, by the way. I’ve never heard that one before,” he said sarcastically.
“You grew up with a principal and a doctor as your parents?”
He nodded. “Getting into trouble was highly frowned upon. But my parents are great. I appreciate them much more now that I’m an adult.”
I chuckled.
“They held the line when I was a kid, though. I get now how they must’ve suffered after what happened with Allison. They had their own grief and blame to deal with, and they were just doing the best they could.”
“Are they tough critics on the women you bring home?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” he said easily.
“Why not?”
“You’re the first woman I’ve ever brought home.”
What? How was it possible that a man who was thirty had never brought a woman home to meet his parents? And, furthermore, how was it possible that I was the one he finally chose to bring home? “Shut up,” I said.
“It’s true.”
“So I’m popping your ‘bringing a girl home to meet mom and dad’ cherry?”
He laughed, and suddenly my lighthearted Jesse was back. “I guess you are.”
“Did you tell them you were bringing me?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t want to surprise them with an additional houseguest.”
“What did they say?”
“They were shocked, obviously. They can’t wait to meet you. I think that they’ve always figured I’d never settle down.”
My heart pounded in my chest as a tingle warmed through my core at his words. Everything south of my belly button clenched in delicious anticipation. And before I could stop the words, they were out. “Settle down? Is that what we’re doing?”
“Veronica, if you weren’t still married, I would pull the fuck over, throw that beautiful body in the bed of this truck, and show you exactly what we’re doing.”
Holy hell.