Jack appeared relieved. “Great, Molly. Thank you,” he told her.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
He ordered a club soda, and I asked for some salt and pepper. Then when she left, he shifted the conversation to my favorite movies and books. I took the hint. I didn’t want to talk aboutanything that made him uncomfortable anyway. The rest of the flight passed rather quickly. Even the layover in Chicago was just a quick stop to refuel. We watched movies, ate tons of yummy food, slept a full six hours, and I even got a hot shower!
“You’ve ruined me. I’m never going to be able to fly economy again,” I told him as our plane hit the runway in Kerala and we completed our journey.
Jack nodded. “I can arrange that.”
I smacked his arm, and he smiled, winking at me.
I had to admit. Jack Marrow was easily one of the nicest guys I’d ever met. He was respectful to the staff and me. He listened when I talked, and we had a real connection. I suddenly found myself wanting more than just a friendship with him, but I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way and I wasn’t sure if that’s what God wanted for me. I never thought I’d date a non-Christian, but something in my heart said not to give up on Jack and I was going to listen to that still small voice. At least for now.
India was amazing. Bright colors, fragrant foods, and tons of culture. When we arrived at our resort, I couldn’t keep my shock inside. It was perched on a cliff in the seaside village of Kerala with beautiful white-sand beaches. The resort had two restaurants, three pools, and a luxury spa. It was incredible. When we’d arrived, they gave us fresh coconut water right out of the coconut and a necklace made of flowers!
Now, I was meeting Jack for dinner, and in the morning, we would go to the orphanage to cut the ribbon and meet the children. It was a perfect trip so far.
When I stepped into the nice, white-tablecloth restaurant, I scanned the space until my gaze landed on Jack. Watching me,he waved me over with a smile. I’d worn my black cocktail dress with lace trim and his eyes ran over it.
“You look incredible,” he told me, standing to pull out my chair.
I blushed. “You always look incredible. Do you only own suits?” I gestured to his outfit.
He smiled. “Force of habit. I go toa lotof meetings with big shots in Seattle. You have to dress the part to be taken seriously.”
Hey, I wasn’t complaining.
I sat down, and a waitress came over to get our order.
When she turned to Jack, his face fell. He stared at her name tag with a look of horror on his face. I peered at her name—Sonia—and couldn’t see anything wrong, but for Jack, it was like he was looking at a ghost.
Did he know her? How could he? We were in the middle of India.
She was asking him what he wanted to order, and he just stared at that name tag as if in a trance.
I placed my hand over his, drawing his attention away. “Jack, are you okay?” He looked down at my hand on top of his and took in a deep breath. “Sorry,” he muttered and then gave her his order. When she left, he turned to me. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”
I nodded, and he got up and walked to the men’s restroom. The look on his face, like sheer terror and agony, pulled at my heart. What had just happened? I wanted to ask, but I also didn’t want to ruin this perfect day. The jet lag was hitting, and even though it was only five p.m., I was ready to sleep for twenty hours. When he got back to the table, I decided not to comment on whatever that was with the waitress. Something had happened to Jack and he would tell me when he was ready.
“The waitress brought fresh naan while you were gone and I saidnamastethinking it meant thank you, but apparently, it’s more like hello,” I told him.
He smiled lightly at my blunder. “I’m feeling the jet lag hit,” he said as he sat down.
I nodded. “Me too. I’m totally crashing after this.”
There was an awkward silence, and then Jack cleared his throat. “Sorry about that a minute ago. I…wasn’t prepared for the waitress to have my late mother’s name.”
Oh no.
And just like that, my heart broke in two.Latemother. His mother was dead?
“I’m so sorry,” I said. I couldn’t imagine losing my mother this young, a fear that crept up often with her cancer treatment. “How did she pass?” I was praying he didn’t say cancer.
The color leeched from his face. “She was murdered.”
I gasped. “Jack.” I reached for his hand just as his phone rang.
“It’s my assistant, Chloe. I should probably take this,” he told me, looking relieved.
