“Babe, it happened and we are where we are now. Why does it matter?”

That was the wrong answer.

“Because I’m asking questions I think are important and the only person in this room who has the answers isn’t giving them to me,” I retorted.

He said nothing.

Nothing.

Just held my eyes and said nothing.

Why?

“Why won’t you tell me?” I asked.

“Because it doesn’t matter,” he answered.

“It does to me.”

He again said nothing.

And, again, why?

“You’re keeping something from me,” I whispered.

“Baby, you got all of me.”

“No, you have all of me,” I returned. “There’s something of you that you’re keeping from me.”

“Can we please let this go and move on?” he requested.

“Whether you agree or not, Jake, the extent of her sharing meant my grandmother betrayed me,” I informed him. “To you. And in the time we’ve spent together, the things we’ve shared, you not telling me the extent of it is, by extension, a betrayal too. So, no. We can’t move on from this until you explain to me what precisely you and Gran had been up to in regards to me for the last five or six years.”

“What matters to you is important to me, honey. Straight up, bottom of my heart, it is. Believe that. But I gotta tell you, it’s important to me that you let this go.”

“How would you feel, someone you didn’t know knew every word written on your soul for years and then they become important to you and they don’t share that with you and won’t tell you why? How would that make you feel, Jake?”

“I’ll say what you have to know, that both Lydie and I had your best interests at heart.”

“Really?” I asked, throwing out my arms. “Because if you did, I would have met you five or six years ago instead of you and your children being kept from me.”

At that, he flinched.

Oh God.

Why?

“Jake—”

“Let it go.”

“Jake!”

“God damn it!” he suddenly shouted, leaned into me and roared, “Fuckin’ let it go!”

I took a step back.

Jake scowled at me.

“You know when my father threw my diary at me and gave me a black eye,” I whispered.

“Let it go, babe,” he ground out.

“You know when I got my period.”

“Let it go.”

“You know when I lost my virginity.”

“Jesus, fuckin’ let…it…go.”

“You got to share your life with me in your truck. Over dinner. In bed. I didn’t get that luxury, Jake. Why?”

“Josie, for fuck’s sake—”

“Why?” I shrieked.

“Let it go!” he thundered back.

“No,” I whispered and watched him wince even as his jaw got hard. “Tell me, Jake.”

“No,” he returned.

We stood there, silent, staring at each other and we did this a long time.

It was me who broke the silence.

“How can this be?”

Jake didn’t respond so I kept on.

“How is it that we were as close as two people could get half an hour ago and now we’re done?”

I watched Jake’s body jerk. “We’re not done.”

I didn’t reply to that.

I asked, “How could she do this to me?”

“She didn’t do anything to you, Josie, except give you your dream.”

Oh yes.

He’d know about that too.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Own her, no,” he’d said at the reading of the will. “Do precisely what Lydie wanted me to do with her, yes.”

Yes, he knew exactly.

“I know you’d know that,” I said quietly, my voice awful and I knew Jake heard it because his jaw again went hard but his eyes went warm and alarmed. “I know you’ve read that. You know what I don’t know?”

He didn’t answer.

So I kept speaking.

“What the foundation of my love for a man is based on. And I don’t know that because he won’t tell me.”

His face changed, softened and he said, “You love me.”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

His face softened more and his voice was utterly beautiful when he went on, “Baby, I love you too.”

“Not enough.”

His body again jerked.

I walked out of the room.

Jake followed me.

I went directly to my bag and when he put a hand on my arm, I yanked it free and took a step back.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Josie, dammit—”

“I’ll ask that I can speak to the kids at some point to explain why I have to sell Lavender House and leave.”

He took a step toward me, his body alert, his eyes back to alarmed. “What the fuck?”

“We’re done.”

“We are not done.”

“We are, Jake.”

“We fuckin’ aren’t, Josie.”

I locked eyes with him and declared, “We very much are.”

“Jesus, do not do this shit. Trust me, it’s not worth it.”

“I think it’s me who gets to make that determination and as I don’t have all the facts, I can’t make it. I can only make a decision. And I’m doing that.”

“You’re throwing away everything for nothing.”

“Again, I can’t know that.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms on his chest. “Fuck, you’re stubborn.”

I moved to my bag and hefted it up, settling the strap on my shoulder.

I then squared off with him again.

“Do not mistake this for a tiff. This is not a tiff. This isn’t something you can bide your time and wear me down to coming around to your way of thinking. This is it.”

He shook his head, studying me closely.

“I don’t understand if it’s gettin’ too real for you, you’re lookin’ for reasons to put your disguise back on so you don’t have to live your life and if that’s the case, the question would be why. Why, when we got somethin’ this good, would you walk away for somethin’ that means nothing?”

“If you need to ask that question then you didn’t pay very much attention to the letter where I told Gran about my dream,” I replied and I walked away.

I did not cry. Not when I grabbed my purse and coat and hurried out to the garage.

I did not cry when I took the opener Jake gave me and put it on the workbench.

I did not cry on the drive back to Lavender House. Nor did I cry when I called the locksmith to have him come and change the locks and do it with urgency.

I only cried once that was all done, I was locked in and up in the light room.

I didn’t feel safe there. Not anymore.

I wasn’t safe anywhere, since Gran had betrayed me.

But it was as good a place as any.

* * * * *

That afternoon, Jake stopped at the door to Ethan’s room and looked in at his son who had a controller in his hand and was playing some video game on his Xbox.

“Yo,” Jake called.

“Yo, Dad,” Ethan answered, not looking away from the TV.

“Bud, I got a question,” Jake told him.

“Yeah?”

Jake took in a deep breath and asked, “You been in my office?”

“What?”

“My office, Eath. You get in my desk?”

That got him a glance from his son that included a proud grin before he looked back to his game and answered, “Yeah. Totally. Picked the lock with one of Amber’s bobby pin thingies. It was awesome. Bryant’s been tryin’ to pick locks for ages and he hasn’t got close. I win.” He gave his father another brief glance before he stated, “That picture of Josie is cool. You should put it in the living room.”

Jake took in another calming breath.

It wasn’t his son that fucked up. It was him that fucked up.

Even so.

“Bud, pause the game a sec, yeah?”

Ethan must have registered his tone because he didn’t delay in pausing the game and looking to his dad.

“Just need you to know somethin’,” Jake said quietly. “We got a lot of people in this house and Amber, Con or me, we might have things that we want to keep private. One day, you might have things like that too. You gotta respect that, Eath, because it’s the right thing to do and because you’ll want that returned to you.”

Ethan’s face had changed in a way Jake didn’t like and he’d know why when Eath asked, “Did I screw up?”