Beauty from Pain (Beauty, #1)(89)

We both know what I’m doing, but she rolls with it. “As if you’d know what to do.”

“I’m not totally helpless in the kitchen. I think I recall cooking brekkie for you one morning.”

“I’m not sure a bagel with cream cheese counts as cooking breakfast, but regardless—I’m good. Why don’t you go choose a wine for us?”

I kiss the side of her face. “That I can definitely do.”

I go into the cellar and choose a merlot. As I walk back to the house, I hear myself whistling “Private Dancer” without thinking about. Damn, she’s always on my mind, even if it’s my subconscious.

I hear Laurelyn talking to someone when I return from the wine cellar. I walk into the kitchen and she turns to see me standing behind her. She’s upset and that’s when I know it’s him. He’s called again.

I take the phone from her hand and hit the end button. “Don’t take his calls again. He upsets you and I don’t want to spend what little time we have left with him on your mind. I want to be the only one you think about. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

I want her to forget his call, his face, his name, so I pull her close for a kiss. “Now, do you think you can make it through dinner without him in your head, or do I need to take you to bed and give you a reason to forget all about him?”

“Although I love the idea of you taking me to bed, he’s already out of my head. He was the second you kissed me.”

“Good.”

While we’re eating, I can’t stop myself from watching the way the candlelight dances on Laurelyn’s face. God, I’m going to miss her when she’s gone.

She notices me watching her and a smile spreads across her face. “A penny for thoughts?”

I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “I was just thinking about what I’m going to do after you go home. Damn, I’m going to miss you.”

She pulls her hand from mine and begins to clear the table. Her eyes are dodging mine. “You’ll do exactly as you’ve done all the other times. You’ll move on to the next town and find number fourteen.”

I can’t imagine there being anyone beyond number thirteen.





45

Laurelyn Prescott

The time has come. I’m leaving today, but Jack Henry has no idea. He believes we have twenty-four more hours together. Why have I lied to him? Because I can’t bear to see him be all right with watching me walk away forever when I’m not at all prepared to do so.

He’s sleeping next to me. He takes a slow, deep breath and like clockwork, I hear a quiet snore every other breath. It’s his breathing cycle and after sleeping next to him for three months, I’ve come to predict it. To expect it. To love it. I don’t want to know what it’s going to be like not hearing it once I’m in my bed at home, so I decide I won’t. I go to my purse and take out my phone to record his sounds. It’s silly, but at least I can have this part of him with me after I’m gone.

When I finish, I sit in the chair in the corner of the room and scan through the pictures of us on my phone. I have come to love these images of us together. I decide I won’t give them up, either, so I silence both phones and go through the photos texting each one to my personal phone. He’ll never know I did this and even if he figures it out, what’s he going to do about it? I’ll be over nine thousand miles away.

When I finish transferring all the photos to my phone, I sit and watch this man I’ve come to love. I have no idea how long I sit staring at him. I only know I won’t get to do it again after tonight.

I curse the glowing time on the clock—4:36. I realize the time I thought would never come has. The flames burning from both ends of our candle are meeting in the middle this morning. My three months with Jack Henry has dwindled to less than three hours and is about to be snuffed out.

I pull my legs up and cradle them as I begin to cry. I’m forced to cup my hands over my mouth to muffle the uncontrollable sobbing. I hear him toss in the bed and I cup my hands tightly so he won’t hear me, but he does anyway. “Hey, what are you doing over there?”

I take a deep breath and my chest vibrates. The light from the cracked bathroom door is minimal in the corner where I’m sitting so he can’t see my face. I work to disguise the nasally sound I’m certain my tears have caused. “I’m memorizing everything I don’t want to forget after I’m gone.”

There. I said it. It’s the reality we’ve been ignoring. This is me giving him the opportunity to talk about me leaving. Say something. Anything. Please.

But he doesn’t. “Come back to bed.”

“Okay. I just need a minute in the bathroom.”

I splash my face with cold water and then hold a cool cloth over my eyes knowing it won’t help with the swelling by the time he gets up for work. He’s going to know I’ve been crying and there’s nothing I can do about it.

When I get into bed with him, I slide over and put my head on his chest. He wraps his arm around me and rubs it up and down from my shoulder to my elbow. “Everything okay with you?”

“Yeah.”

“It doesn’t feel okay.”

I agree. Nothing about this feels okay. I can’t tell him that, so I do the only thing that will. I roll to my stomach and rise to my knees. I hitch one leg over him until I’m straddling him and then my body covers his as I drop my mouth to kiss him.