“Figure out what’s between us?” She shook her head and tears escaped down her cheeks. “Jack, how do you not know what’s between us? After all this time?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come.
A soft noise escaped her throat and the tears freely flowed. “We’ve lost so much, Jack. So much. But you don’t care about any of it. First Cameron then?—”
“You always say that! I do care! I care a lot.” I sat up, facing her.
“No, you say, ‘loss is a part of life,’ like I should just forget them. You’ve told me verbatim ‘we have to move on, Miranda.’” She stood as the memory fueled her tears. They turned angry, her face menacing and her words clipped. “I can’t and I won’t move on. Andthat’swhat’s between us, Jackson Barkley.”
“I’ve never asked you to move on.”
She laughed in disbelief as her jaw dropped. “What planet are you living on?” She stepped into her lacey undergarments and gathered her clothes from around the room. “We might begreat together in every other way, but this right here is why we can’t go the distance. You refuse to see, Jack! You refuse to acknowledge how you have hurt me.” Her voice broke with a sob and she turned away.
And in that moment, I knew. The final nail drove into our coffin. All my hopes for reconciliation spun down the drain. Was I broken or something? I had to admit she was right. We had talked and I apologized for the stuff she said I did. But I didn’t see. I did not see how those things broke us. How those hurts snowballed into this moment.
When she replaced her clothes from the night before, she said, “I’m sorry I came. This was a huge mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She plucked her shoes from the floor and said as she walked out. “Please don’t call me.”
But it was Miranda who couldn’t hold up to that demand. Day after dayshecalledme. And texted me. And constantly touched base until I blocked her number two months later. It pained me to do it, but I couldn’t handle the off and on communication. I couldn’t handle hearing about her new life in Ohio. It kept me up and sent me into a rage on more than one occasion. I couldn’t move on with the lines still open.
It drove me mad because Ilovedher.
I didn’t want to be a friend. An old pal. A confidant. Or a texting buddy. I wanted to be herhusband.Nothing—absolutely nothing—less.
Every time I heard her voice proved how much she loved me too.
I wanted Miranda totally. It could only be all or nothing.
So it was nothing.
“Jack, what? Tell me!”
I sighed. “We hooked up right before the divorce.”
“What?” Jules shrieked into the phone. “I cannot believe you! Who does that?”
“Come on, it’s not like we planned it. And we were still married for crying out loud.” I ran a hand over my face, wondering what mess I got myself into.
“I am in total shock.” She took a deep breath. “Like, wow.”
I sighed.
“Okay, so let’s do this math. If your last shenanigans with Miranda was in January sometime, that would mean the kid?—”
“Kacey.”
“—if he’s yours, was born around September. That’s assuming Miranda had a normal pregnancy and carried him to term.”
Normal pregnancy? The possibility felt foreign.
“And that would put Kacey at three years and eight months or so, which makes more sense to me.”
“More sense? Does seven—eight months make a huge difference?”
“In three year olds? It does!”
I shook my head. The need to defend and deny coursed through my veins. “There is absolutely no way Miranda wouldn’t have told me. We got divorced, but she would never keep my son from me.”
Right?
