Jack studied her, then pushed off the car and stepped closer.
Not too close. But closer. “You don’t have to carry all of it by yourself,” he said. “I can be trusted.”
The words were simple. Too simple. Because if she let herself believe them, even for a second… Everything in her very regulated world would unravel.
“I do trust you, Jack,” she said. “But I can’t tell you about my life.”
Jack’s jaw tightened just slightly. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Or because it’s easier than letting someone in?”
That hit. He was the only one she would ever want to let in, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t do that to him. She told herself keeping silent about the past five years was more forhis protection than because she’d get in trouble for telling him anything.
Madelaine looked away, her gaze catching on the flickering neon sign of the convenience store. “You think I wanted this?” she asked quietly.
“I think you clearly chose it.”
“I didn’t. Not really.”
“Then what happened, Madelaine?” His voice wasn’t sharp—it was worse. Steady. Hurt. “Because one day you were there, and the next you were gone, supposedly for a two-year ‘opportunity’ provided by a distant relative that you felt obligated to indulge. One letter and then nothing. No official goodbye. Just nothing.”
Her chest tightened.
“I couldn’t say goodbye.”
“Why not?”
Because if I had been allowed to send messages to you, I would have left Alpha-Prime and damned all the consequences.Probably the reason communication was the first rule out of lots of rules that disallowed pretty much everything warm, comforting or filled with any speck of emotion.
The truth rose up, fierce and aching—but she swallowed it down.
“I just…couldn’t. I wish I could explain, but I can’t.”
Jack stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, even in the cool night air.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
The pump clicked behind them, signaling it was done, but neither of them moved. The world narrowed. To this. To him.
“You know what the worst part was?” Jack said quietly.
She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she shook her head.
“Even after you’d been gone for years, I kept thinking maybe you’d come back. Especially at the two-year mark, I thought maybe you’d return.”
Her breath caught.
“Every time my phone rang…every time I heard a car pull up outside my house…” He let out a soft, humorless huff. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind and had finally found your way back to me.”
Madelaine’s vision blurred.
“I almost did,” she whispered, remembering a particularly dark training day when she’d wanted to give up, go back to Earth and forget all the consequences of her actions. But then reality smacked her back in line after she’d been reminded of her impossible choices. She stayed.
Jack stilled. “What?”
