Authors: Dianne Venetta
Jennifer’s throat closed. Even if she wanted to agree, she couldn’t form the words.
“Is marrying Aurelio for your mom’s sake worth the years of heartache that will follow?”
No.
Sam misinterpreted her silence. “C’mon, Jen. I can help you through this. There’ll be some adjustments, but we can do it—
together
. Just give me some time. Don’t do anything rash.”
Hot tears streamed down Jennifer’s face as she managed a meek, “Hmph.”
Too late for that advice
.
“You’ll be better off in the long run. It’ll be tough in the beginning, but you’ll pull through, and you’ll be stronger and happier for it. Aurelio will move on, he’ll be okay. Trust me.”
The “trust me” desperation was almost enough to make her laugh. If only everything she was saying weren’t true...
“
I’m afraid
.” The admission escaped from her lips, uttered almost involuntarily.
“Then you’re normal.”
“No, Sam.
I mean it
. I feel like I’m living in a land of make-believe, conjured up by my imagination. I’m afraid it doesn’t exist anywhere but in my mind. I’m afraid I’m about to let go of everything real and end up with nothing. I don’t even know how to make the step from here to there to find out if it’s real!”
“One foot at a time, same as you take every other step.”
“But what if I do? What if I do, only to discover it was all a dream. A figment of my imagination.” After all, these were connections she was making with a man she hardly knew! “What if I try, only to have it blow up in my face?” Like a child’s soap bubble, stinging her eyes. “What then?”
“Then you take it from there. You live life. You move on.”
Like Aurelio will.
But her mother? Announcing there would be no wedding was akin to driving the last nail in her coffin. Without any reason to hang on, she would die.
Jennifer hung up the phone. She was going to have to face them; her mother, Aurelio. She had to tell them. Today.
Soon
. They had to know the truth.
Sweet Aurelio. It was like a sneak attack from behind. There was no way he could have anticipated such a move on her part. He had done nothing to deserve it.
Nothing to warrant her betrayal
.
And then she would have to tell her mom.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
By noon, Jennifer began to believe the fates were looking out for her. Morning clinic had been a breeze, allowing her to enjoy a full hour lunch—if she had an ounce of appetite—but sitting alone in her office, food was the last thing on her mind. Explaining her decision to two of the closest people in her life why she was about to turn
theirs
upside down was first and foremost.
Jennifer slumped back into her chair. Setting her left hand on the edge of the desk, she peered at the two-carat diamond ring glittering on her finger. Tears pushed behind her eyes as she moved her fingers, wishing she could appreciate its sparkle of perfection, the promise of commitment.
Everything she had hoped for, everything she wanted, Aurelio had given himself to her when he slipped it on her finger. In accepting it, she had done the same.
Until her subconscious betrayed her.
And she betrayed him
.
Wasn’t it precisely what she had done
? However unintentional, however figuratively, Jennifer had crossed a line and she wouldn’t deny it. She didn’t remember exactly where or when it happened, only that it had.
And that it was so unfair. Aurelio did nothing to deserve the punishment she was about to deliver. His only crime...
...was to pale in comparison to Jackson.
# # #
Jennifer sat like a dead weight on Aurelio’s plush white leather sofa. From outside, the setting sun cast a soft palette of lavender and blue throughout the home, indoors and out blending seamlessly through a wall of glass. Perched high above South Beach, Aurelio’s unobstructed view of the ocean was magnificent. Tonight, she observed, waters were smooth, calm, peaceful.
Unlike inside his home. She fiddled with the ring encircling her narrow finger and thought once again, how had it come to this?
“You’re being selfish.” Aurelio paced back and forth across his living room, a canvas of white from floor to furniture, the only color coming in the form of bold strokes of art placed strategically throughout the house, red tulips dangling over the edge of a vase centered on the dining table.
The stark salmon-pink of his silk shirt.
“Africa is a dream come true. It’s an opportunity of a lifetime for me and what do you do? Spit it back in my face.” He stopped. Raking a hand through long layers of black he stood there and stared. “You’re using this against me. Why?”
Jennifer looked up at him. “I told you. This has nothing to do with Africa. I think it’s wonderful, I do.”
“Then why are you doing this? It doesn’t make sense.”
He didn’t know the half of it! “I told you. This is about me, not you.”
“What are you talking about?” He flung both arms out, slapping them to his sides. “It has everything to do with me!” He whirled around, stomping over to the glass doors. A lost silhouette, he stood there, staring out to sea. She hated that she had no explanation.
Aurelio deserved better.
“We love each other. I told you, if you want me to help with kids, I can.
I will
.” He turned his head toward her. “If that’s what it will take, I’ll do it. Whatever I have to.”
Anger is no way to raise a family, she thought. It must come from desire. But voicing as much would only aggravate the situation, more than she already had.
Aurelio dropped his head back. “You’re giving me no alternatives here.”
There weren’t any good ones.
The separation settled between them, pushing man and woman farther apart.
“And what about your mother?” He turned around and leaned back to the wall. He crossed his arms and gave her a hard stare, fine features cemented in bitterness. “Have you thought about what this will do to her?”
Over and over and over.
Black hair fell from place, his jaw set. “This will kill her. You know that don’t you? And it will be on your hands.”
Once met with love and support by those deep black pools of his eyes, now she only saw bastard. With a deep breath, she slid the ring from her finger.
“If you take that off, don’t expect a second chance.”
No, she didn’t expect he’d give her one. Strange, but he was the one man she thought capable of forgiveness. Jennifer set the ring on the glass table, careless to the tremble of her fingers. It dropped with a ping.
Rest in peace, she thought grimly. With one last look at Aurelio, her eyes filling with the familiar rush of tears, she mouthed goodbye.
Walking around his stone-still figure, she picked up her purse and went for the door. She didn’t stop, he didn’t protest. Sliding her hand around the cold metal handle, she made her exit, pulling the door to a soft close behind her.
# # #
Jennifer called her friend first thing. It was the only thing she knew to do. Spew out the pain, hash through her emotions. Get help making sense of it all.
Heaven knows, she couldn’t.
Bless her heart, Sam didn’t once interrupt. No snide remarks, no sage advice, she only listened. When there were no more words to describe her misery, she waited for Sam to step in.
“You need to call him.”
Jennifer didn’t speak.
“You need to tell him how you feel.”
“He’s not right for me.” It was her new conclusion. Yes, she had ruined her life. Yes, she had courted the possibilities, but sanity finally intervened.
While it wasn’t fair to tear Aurelio’s world apart, it wouldn’t be fair to undercut Jax’s, either. He should have the freedom to pursue whatever life course he wanted. Resenting the Bahamas was no different than resenting Africa.
“You don’t know that, Jen.”
“I have a pretty good idea.”
“Love is funny. It turns lives upside down. For better or worse. You can’t predict choices of the heart.”
“Maybe no, but I do know that I can’t drop everything to sail through the islands.”
“He might be persuaded to put that plan on hold.”
“So now I’m changing who he is? How smart is that, Sam? The man wants his freedom. He has no ties here. He lives job to job.” A lump rose in her throat. “I can’t. My career is all or nothing.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Yes, it does.”
“There’s room for flexibility.”
“What flexibility? I work out of hospitals, offices, not the bow of a boat! I can’t save my patients without proper facilities.”
“You save lives, Jen. You care for people.” Sam paused. “They live in the States, they live in the islands. It’s the
vo
-cation that matters, not the
lo
-cation.”
“Sam.”
“Jen.”
The challenge hung between them.
“I would lose my practice, my career.”
“You could lose the love of your life.”
“It’s a ridiculous risk.”
“No it’s not.”
“He’s probably not even interested.”
“He’s interested,
trust me
. I was there, remember?”
“But what if he’s not? Then I’ve lost everything—I’ve ruined lives, broken promises—and for what?”
“Your freedom.”
She could have thrown the receiver through her window. “I don’t want my freedom, Sam!”
“Everyone wants their freedom, Jen. That’s what living’s all about.”
Jennifer smacked the phone to her nightstand. Sam was wrong. Living was about more than freedom—it was about love, support; being responsible to those who needed you.
She thought about Beverly. Her surgeon called today and the news wasn’t good. She had developed an infection. Jennifer closed her eyes.
One that could kill her
.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Mom?”
Beatrice’s eyelashes fluttered at the voice. “Are you awake?”
“
Sweetheart
...” she murmured. “I’ll see you soon...”
“Mom?”
Beatrice smiled at him. “I love you, too.” She opened her eyes to her daughter Jennifer. “Oh—darling...” she said, and worked to adjust her focus to the dimly-lit room. The first rays of daylight filtered in through her blinds, curtains pushed aside, the air golden. And by her bed, in her usual seat, was her baby.
“Hi mom,” Jennifer said, a slight quiver to her voice. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Beatrice’s gaze relaxed as she settled in on her daughter, enjoying the warmth of her hands. She offered a smile. “Fine...just...fine.”
“I brought you some tapioca pudding. The doctor said you’re not eating.”
“So sweet, Jenny...” She gave a feather squeeze to her palm. “Thank you.”
“You need to eat.”
Beatrice heard the concern. “I am... Don’t worry...” But when her daughter’s face remained grave, she seemed to detect something more than worry. “What is it?”
Jennifer’s eyes dropped to their hands.
“Jenny?”
She raised her head to face her mother. “It’s about the wedding. I can’t—"
“Tell me,” Beatrice insisted, a mix of confusion and apprehension crowding her intuition. “Jenny? Please?”
“I can’t marry Aurelio,” she croaked out the words.
Beatrice’s heart fell.
Her daughter swallowed,
hard.
“I can’t give you the garden wedding I promised.”
She searched her daughter’s gaze for direction, for meaning. But the glitter of blue revealed only distress. “But I don’t understand... What’s happened?”
“I’m having doubts.”
Beatrice expelled her breath in a soft sigh. “Oh darling...” With pronounced effort, she reached over and patted her hands. “We all have doubts. It’s normal.”
Jennifer shook her head. “There’s someone else.”
Beatrice became very still.
“It’s not what you think, Mom,” she continued quickly, “it’s...I had a...”
“
What
?”
Jennifer gushed out in one long sentence, “I had a dream and it’s because of this I can’t marry Aurelio.”
Beatrice drew back. “A dream?”
And then she explained, from the beginning.
She did the best she could. From her slow and controlled speech, the unnatural state with which she delivered the story, Beatrice could tell this was difficult for her. And as she watched her daughter’s face, eyes often dodging the elder’s scrutiny, Beatrice heard a young woman under enormous pressure. Not from her profession, though she was certain it was a factor, but from herself. She had set a course of action and was following through, only to be tripped up by an unforeseen obstacle tossed in her path.