“That’s some test you’re putting him through,” Jane said.
“It wasn’t a test,” he said, sucking his bottom lip through his teeth as he prepared to defend himself. “Jack and I’ve had a lot of time this past week, to talk about stuff. It’s been… weird, but good, in a way. He says he’s staying, and the more I talk to him, the more I believe him.”
“Seriously?” Jane frowned.
He stared at the ring of condensation on the bar in front of him. “I saw them together, last Sunday afternoon. You should’ve been there – it was like before, like nothing had changed. She wants him to stay, and he wants to stay. It’s that simple.”
“So what was tonight about then?” Jane asked.
“Tonight was about getting her to realise that if she wants him here, she’s gotta start trusting him.”
“You think it’s that easy?” Maggie prodded gently.
“I didn’t say it was easy. I just think it’s the only way. Too many damn secrets, those two. It’s no way to live. They eat you up from the inside, out.”
He took another swig of beer, swallowing slowly. He couldn’t get the image of Jack and Ally kissing out of his mind. She had never looked at him the way he had seen her looking at Jack that day.
Talking with Jack these past few days, getting to know him again, he could see how torn up he was about what happened. He was the first to admit he had done the wrong thing by taking off, and he seemed happy to be punished for it – the fact that he had sought out that punishment recently had made that markedly clear. He also seemed determined to try and make it up to Ally somehow, and he didn’t seem to care how long that took or what he had to do. Hadn’t he given Ally the choice this time? And hadn’t she asked him to stay? It must have hurt like hell to put that decision in her hands, and it must have taken a leap of faith unlike anything he could even imagine for her to ask him to stay.
That was love, pure and simple, as much as it ripped his guts out to admit it.
He downed the last of his beer in one long gulp and stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You’re leaving?” Jane asked.
“Yeah, got stuff to do.”
“What stuff? Where are you going?” Maggie looked up at him.
He pulled her into a quick hug. “I’m going home to kick the cat,” he murmured, releasing her.
“But you don’t have a cat.”
“Busted.”
He gave them both a wry wave and made his way across the crowded room, past the jukebox and the guys playing pool, past the tables and the booths and out across what passed for the dance-floor, into the cool night air.
All he wanted right at this moment, was a little peace, and for someone to tell him that he had done the right thing tonight. Not for the first time, he wished Tom were here.
Jack waited for Ally in the small lobby, reclining on one of the old 1960s armchairs – all style and no comfort. The arms were chrome tubing and the springs had seen better days. Even the upholstery was worn, faded all over and ripped in places. He fidgeted, trying to get comfortable. He looked at his watch again. She did say she would be a while.
After his self-imposed exile of the past few days, all he wanted was to be with her. Being without her for four years, he had convinced himself he could live that way, if he needed to. But now that he was home and she was here, he knew he had been fooling himself. The shell of the man he used to be had begun to fill out again – the broken soul and the shattered heart had begun to heal and he could feel the physical change within him. He was becoming complete again, a whole person, not merely fragments of someone he used to be.
Kissing her tonight had been completely unplanned. He knew she would see his tattoo tonight, but he was completely unprepared for her reaction. Her heartfelt, honest observation had awoken in him the basic need to soothe her, protect her, keep her safe. He knew he could do it, too, if only he could convince her to let him.
He had watched over his towel with mounting admiration as she pulled herself out of the pool. He didn’t really know what to expect, or how she would manage. He had briefly wondered if she was lying about not needing help, but it was clear she was more than capable. He was impressed with her strength and technique, managing the seemingly impossible with grace and dignity. He had wanted to tell her so, but she had taken off before he had the chance.
He checked his watch again and stood up, stretching as he went to the noticeboard, gazing idly over the newsletters pinned there.
Before the accident, Ally was a dynamo – always talking, forever in motion. Now however, she was reined in somehow. Tethered, controlled. Something fundamental had changed, not physically, but mentally. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. How did she see him now? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.