Page 50 of Falling For Alaska

Could I…?

I follow my instinct, calling his number even though it’s three in the morning. Let’s not overthink this. I press the call button, and Jack answers on the first ring, my heart tumbling in my chest in response.

“Alaska, everything’s o-okay?” he asks, his voice rough and strained.

“Sorry, I…I had a nightmare. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“That’s okay,” he says. The sound of sheets moving echoes in the background. “I’m a light sleeper anyway, glad you c-called.” He clears his throat. “Wanna talk about it?” I hum in response, and he pauses before saying, “Or…um, I c-could be there in ten minutes if you want?” The world stops spinning as I stare at the empty side of the bed next to me. Besides Bella, no one has ever slept beside me, not even the nice boyfriends who were truly eager to. The idea of his arms wrapped around me in my bed is the closest I could ever get to heaven.

“I don’t want to bother you…” I trail off, unconvincing. Sheets move again, and I hear his footsteps in his home. What does it look like there? Water drips from a faucet. Fabric rustles. At last, I hear keys rattling together.

“I’ll b-be there in ten. D-d-do you want to stay on the line?”

“I’ll be okay. I’ll wait for you,” I whisper, beyond grateful for this man.

“Good,” he murmurs. “See you soon.” The line goes dead, but I keep the phone pressed to my ear for a moment longer, as if holding onto his voice might keep the shadows away. I exhale, my breath shaky, then push myself out of bed. The floor is cold beneath my bare feet. Did I spill water on it? I take a few more steps, and the sensation disappears. The rumble of the kettle fills my kitchen as I select my favorite herbal tea. I can’t believe he’s going to be here, all tall and kind and handsome in my small house. Why am I pursuing this if he’s going to leave soon? Why am I being reckless with my heart? I don’t have time to fall deeper into the rabbit hole of my thoughts when I hear the roar of a car pulling into my driveway.

Don’t fall in love, a little voice in my head begs me. But I’ve stopped listening. Because it’s too late.

I already fell.

Jack

Her door is already open, a dim light behind her, as I park my black SUV in front of her English cottage-like house. That thing is so small and still, I can’t see anything that would suit her more. She called me, and when I saw her name on my screen, I answered it as fast as humanly possible. There was no hesitation when I took the call; whatever she would have asked, I would have given. Besides, as a cop, I always sleep with one eye open, so getting there in the middle of the night isn’t an issue.

It’s raining a bit tonight, but nothing like the storm we had a few days ago. I gotta admit, even during a tornado, I would have found my way to her. Being present for Alaska is a need so strong I don’t care that I had to wake up in the middle of the night ’cause she had a nightmare.

“Hey,” I say, as she steps aside to let me enter. Her two-piece pink PJs remind me of the time I came here during the storm. This thing may cover most of her body, but the fabric’s so thin it drapes on her shape like water.

“You came,” she breathes out, all shy all of a sudden, closing the door behind me.

“You said you had-had a nightm-m-mare,” I explain, putting my jacket on a hook in the entryway and my trainers on her shoe rack like I’ve done this a thousand times.

“I know, but⁠—”

“One thing you gotta know, Alaska, is that I’m always g-gonna make sure you’re okay. D-day or night, I’ll always find a way to come to you,” I tell her with so much certainty, something tightens under my ribs. What would I do if this was the last time I saw her? What if I have to go back to Minneapolis sooner?

“Thank you so much for coming,” she says, barely audible. We make our way to her kitchen, where she grabs a cup of tea. “Do you want one?”

“Sure,” I say mindlessly, focused on her words and the perfect bow of her lips. Once we’ve both got mugs in hand, she walks out of the kitchen and I follow her, naturally, like any normal couple, until we reach the stairs leading to her bedroom. My heart skips a bit as I enter the small space. There isn't much: a bed, a dresser, and an armchair. But she got curtains and pillows and all the stuff my sisters used to like too. Things like candles and peach-colored rugs that make you want to stay in bed all day with a good book. She turns on her night lamp and puts her mug on the night table. Sitting in her bed, she pulls the covers up to her waist. I’m standing there, in my black sweatpants and sweatshirt, holding a freaking pink mug, my height almost touching the ceiling. I’m an elephant in a china shop. She doesn’t say a word, just pats her side of the bed, inviting me to join, like this is normal, even though my ears are pumping with white noise right now.

“Tell me,” I say, my voice strained in a tone I don’t recognize, as I sit next to her. Our bodies are so close it’s hard to focus.

“I… I was in a foreign place, with mist around me and…you were there,” she explains, folding her knees close to her. “But I was trying to reach you, and the more I walked toward you, the more you disappeared. It was... It was dark and terrifying, and I was all alone,” she confesses. This time, I slid under the covers, grabbing her waist and pulling her into my arms, her petite figure fitting so perfectly it hurts.

“It’s over. I’m-I’m here now,” I murmur into her chocolate locks. “You c-called and I came, see? I d-d-didn’t disappear,” I tell her as softly as I can, despite my usual stutter. Alaska doesn’t seem to mind. Sometimes, I wonder if she even hears it. Her hands fold over mine, resting on her belly.

“But you might,” she whispers with a faltering voice. I pause and take in the fact that yes, theoretically, I might. At the end of the day, I guess it’s up to me. I could always lose this promotion. I’ve never envisioned it, since I’ve worked years for it, but perhaps there could be a way to stay here. For us to have a shot.

“P-p-perhaps I could find a way… to stay,” I mutter, holding my heart in my throat, right above the cliff, ready to jump without a parachute. She squeezes my hands so hard it’s more of a clutch than a hold. We may not have said it out loud, but Alaska and I are pretty close to what a couple could be. Could I imagine her with another man? No…I can’t.

Alaska is mine now. And I’m hers too. So what are we going to do about it? There’s so much I still don’t know about her, and about my own future. Yet all the pieces of the puzzle are starting to make sense. Her past, my issues, our lives, and why we were brought together. Still, some blank spaces remain. Invisible threads of warning telling me I’m missing something. That this is too good to be true.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” she murmurs, and I hear it, tears falling from her cheeks, soaking the pillow. A little sniff escapes her. Instinct takes over and my arms move up, pulling her into my body like a second skin, holding her the way she needs to be held. I don’t even know why I came here, other than to be with her, not because I needed to touch her, but simply because I wanted to share the same air.

Some things in life can’t be explained.

Alaska is one of them.