Jessie shrugged. “Patrick was right.”
Robert balled his fists at the mention of her jerk of a husband.
“About what?”
“I can’t expect to come home and pick up where I left off.”
No. Neither of them could pick up where they had left off. As much as he would like to.
Whoa. Where had that come from?
Jessie was talking about painting. Wasn’t she?
Jessie picked at her nails. “I’m not the same person I used to be, and I don’t have that kind of talent anymore.”
Yes, you do.He wanted to shout the words, but remembering Emily’s warning, he bit his tongue. “I think you do. It’s just hidden.”
“Doesn’t the Bible say something about losing the talents we bury?”
“Jessie, you didn’t choose to bury them.”
“It doesn’t matter. The point is: I’m not good enough anymore.”
He had a feeling she was talking about a lot more than the decline of her artistic skills. He hated to imagine the things Pendleton had done to crush her so thoroughly.
He shot to his feet, partially out of anger, but mostly to keep from pulling her into his arms and assuring her she’d always been good enough for him. When Jessie shot him a strange look, he relaxed against the railing. Not so far away that she’d think he was avoiding her, but far enough to be out of arm’s reach.
“Good enough for whom, Jess? You don’t have to measure up to anyone’s expectations anymore. Just your own.”
Jessie hugged herself as tears gathered in her eyes. “I don’t know what I want of myself anymore. I haven’t been allowed to think for myself for so long.”
She looked at him with those beautiful, pain-filled, amber eyes, and he had to remind himself to keep his distance.
“Somewhere along the line, the pride that kept me from admitting I’d made a mistake and leaving, turned to fear. And not just fear of Patrick. I was afraid to admit I had failed. Failed in my career and failed in my marriage.” She sucked in a deep breath as though trying to calm herself. “Patrick always said love is putting the other person first. I thought if I just tried a little harder—”
“Bending over backwards to please that man was not love.” His grip on the railing behind him tightened.
She gave him a sad smile. “I know, but he convinced me I needed to prove I was worthy of his love.”
More like the other way around.
“If he loved you so much, shouldn’thehave putyoufirst?” He couldn’t hide the derision in his voice.
“He did.” Her voice dropped. “Or at least that’s what he told me. Tracking everywhere I went, monitoring my calls and text messages, that was all for my safety.” Jessie’s voice carried a note of derision now. “He took away my art so I could devote more time to being a better wife.”
Robert gripped the railing so hard he feared he’d get splinters. If he let go, he’d probably end up punching something.
“My nails, my hair, the designer clothing. That was all meant to make me feel better about myself because it made me beautiful.”
“You were already beautiful, Jess.” He ground out through clenched teeth before he could stop himself. He meant it as a compliment, but he doubted she’d feel flattered since he’d delivered it so poorly.
She gave him a small smile. “You’re the one person who always made me feel that way, no matter how horrible I looked.”
“Because it’s true.” He ached to take Jessie in his arms and hold her until she believed him. Realizing he’d released his grip on the railing, he folded his arms across his chest to keep himself from following through on the urge.
Jessie shook her head. “You know what my worst failure was?” She looked out across the pasture. “Me. I failed myself.”
Robert couldn’t help himself, he sat back down beside her. “What do you mean?”
