Even though I knew it was too soon, and even though I knew that there was nothing we could do about it until I was a free woman, and even though I knew it was completely ridiculous that I felt rejected, it didn’t lessen the pain.
CHAPTER 12
We were quiet for the remainder of the trip, listening to the soft radio. His hand was in constant contact with me. He drove one handed so he could touch my leg or hold my hand or squeeze my arm. While I loved his touch and craved it, it didn’t ease the ache from his non-response.
The anxious thought crept into my mind that maybe it had something to do with Carly. Was he in love with her? Was that why he couldn’t tell me that he loved me?
It had to be my insecurities talking.
He wasn’t taking Carly to California to meet his parents, after all, so I forced myself to push that thought aside.
We pulled off the highway once we got to Santa Monica, headed toward his parents’ house. Things were awkward between us now, and I just wanted the floor of the car to swallow me whole. Not only did I feel like a fool, but now I was worried that I had messed things up between the two of us. Everything had been going so well, and now I made it awkward.
“Are we close?” I asked, needing to break the silence.
He nodded. “Fifteen minutes, maybe,” he said, braking at a yellow light as his hand found my thigh.
I leaned my elbow on the armrest in the middle and leaned my forehead against my hand. Staring down toward the floor, I said, “Jesse, can we just forget what I said back there? Things have been so awkward ever since and I just want to go back to being us again.”
We were stopped at a red light, and he looked over at me. He moved his hand from my thigh and then pulled my arm down and twined his fingers through mine. He leaned over the center console and pressed a kiss to my lips.
“I will never forget that you said those words to me, V. Never.” His intensity was unlike anything I’d ever seen. “I feel it, too.”
Then why didn’t you say it back? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t have the nerve.
I had to remind myself about that virtue of patience that I just didn’t possess.
The car behind us honked. I glanced up, and the light was green. Jesse had been paying more attention to me than the road, so he turned his attention back to driving.
Things were slightly less awkward after he said that he felt it, too, but what I really wanted to know was why he felt but couldn’t say it.
We pulled into his parents’ driveway, and Jesse parked the truck and grabbed our bags from the backseat. He met me by my door and laced his fingers through mine. “You ready?” he asked, leaning in to press a quick kiss against my cheek. The smell of him mixed with the beach was overwhelming my senses.
I nodded, nervous to meet Judy and Dr. Phil.
We walked up to the door of the small, Spanish-style home, and Jesse rang the bell and then slung his arm around my shoulders. I heard a dog barking, and then a moment later, an adorable older woman opened the door. She was short, maybe five feet two inches tall, and thin, and she had shoulder-length dark hair and eyes that matched Jesse’s. She gave off an air of kindness. Behind her stood a man that looked like he could’ve been Jesse’s twin twenty years earlier, except he had blue eyes and gray peppered into his dark hair. He was debonair and held that same air of kindness as his wife.
The dog was a little white West Highland Terrier. He was the kind of dog who would look adorable in a sweater. “Barry, down!” Jesse’s mom scolded with a loving smile as he jumped on me. “I’m so sorry!” she said to me warmly.
I knelt down to pet Barry. I loved animals, dogs in particular. He jumped into my arms, and I stood and held him as Jesse hugged his mother and kissed her on the cheek and then shook his dad’s hand. Then he made the introductions.
“Mom, this is Veronica. Veronica, my mom,” he said.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Drake,” I said, sticking my hand out as best I could while I held the dog.
“Oh, don’t be silly, Veronica,” she said, shooing my hand away and pulling me into a hug. “It’s lovely to meet you. And call me Judy. Or Mom.” She kissed my cheek, and I grinned, feeling at home already.
“And this is my dad,” Jesse said, clapping his dad on the shoulder.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Drake.”
“Phil,” he said with a grin that crinkled his eyes and gave him an even friendlier demeanor. He leaned in for a hug, too. “Or Dr. Phil.” I giggled. “Or Dad.”
I never would’ve guessed that they’d suffered through the tragedy of losing a child from their attitudes. Clearly they had chosen to celebrate life after the devastating loss of their daughter.