Page 52 of My Fiancé's Brother 2

“What do you get?”

My chest was rising and falling. “You chose her. You came back to Virginia, and you chose her. You told her you were coming back to her. And you told me to marry Matt.”

He put his hands on his hips and blinked a few times.

“What I don’t understand is why you were so determined to marry me when it's so obvious that you love her. She loves you, you love her, and I’m here in the way. You manned up with all that navy SEAL honor, and you got stuck with me.”

I could not cry in front of this man again. I put the ring on the bed and walked into the bathroom and then shut and locked the door.

“Emily,” he sounded pissed.

I sat on the edge of the tub and put my face in a towel to muffle my sniffles.

I heard the door handle rattle.

“Go away.”

“You can’t just walk away in the middle of our conversation.”

“I was done talking.”

“I wasn’t.”

I lifted my head from my towel. “I need some alone time.”

Silence for a long moment and then I heard footsteps pound down the stairs. The front door slammed. I walked out to the bedroom window and watched as his black truck roared down the road.

I felt bewildered as I looked around the room. I had no idea how to handle myself in this situation. What did he want from me? Nothing he was doing made sense.

Resigned, I dumped one last box of clothes onto the bed, stopping short when I found a large manila envelope at the bottom of the box. I lifted it up and examined it.

In writing that I didn’t recognize, Jackson’s name was scrawled on the front. The envelope was bulky and opened. Without even thinking, I peeked inside. There were some papers and a flat journal. I chewed on my lip, knowing that I was crossing a multitude of boundaries here. I slid out the book and examined the cover. It was a flat black leather journal. It looked really old with weathered yellow pages.

I flipped open the cover. “Journal of Harry Jarvais.”

Harry Jarvais was Matt’s dad. Why did Jackson have Harry’s journal? Wouldn’t that be something that Matt should have, not Jackson? I looked at the cover of the envelope. Jackson’s name was written in the same handwriting. So Harry had given this book to Jackson? Why would he have done that?

Without thinking, I flipped to the next page.

JOURNAL OF HARRY JARVAIS

Dec 26,1986- My wife Irene bought me this journal for Christmas. I always said that I wanted to keep a journal but I fear that I’m not going to be that good at it. I’ll do my best.

Dec 29, 1986- Last night was a rough night at work. I responded to a domestic that was brutal. The female victim is known to the police force for both drug use and prostitution. The beating she took last night was so severe, and I have no idea how she survived.

Jan 5, 1987- Tonight when my shift ended, I went to see the female victim at the hospital. Her name is Melody.

Jan 7, 1987- I went to see Melody again in the hospital. She told me that her mom died when she was eight. When she was 15, her grandmother, whom she lived with, passed on. She said she took up with a man named Wilson who eventually got her involved in prostitution.

Jan 15, 1987- Tonight Melody called me at my desk. She told me that she was being released from the hospital, but she didn’t have any place to go. She was asking my advice. Where should she go?

I drove her to a grim little motel at the edge of town. I paid for her room for a week and gave her enough money to buy food.

“You are the kindest man I have ever met,” she told me. She put her arms around my neck and hugged her rail-thin body against mine. The scent of her hair, the soft touch of her hands around my neck, the sensation of her slight body pressing against me, drove me wild. I instantly was harder than I’ve ever been in my life. Dark, forbidden thoughts about her flooded my mind.

Jan 17, 1987- After work, I swung by the motel with a few groceries. Melody was so happy to see me. I’m a 32-year-old officer of the law. Melody just turned 17. This is wrong on so many levels, but I can’t help it. Lately, when I lay on top of Irene, I shut my eyes, and it’s always Melody beneath me, intoxicating me with her smile, her eyes, and her lush, ripe body. This is only going to end badly for me.

Jan 26, 1987- I have broken the vows of my marriage. I have stepped out on Irene. Tonight, against my better judgment, I stopped by to see Melody. I did not know it could be like that between a man and a woman. I’m weak. She is a teenager, and yet the unbearable lust she raised in me was beyond anything I have ever experienced.

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