Page 69 of Tempting Eden

Before I’d even known what I was doing, I’d dragged my satchel from my closet and started throwing in clothes and random items from my bathroom. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to see her. My mind was clear, finally clear after six months of wandering in darkness. I followed the light back to her.

The drive was the longest three hours of my life. I was wide-awake, ignoring the lightening sky at my back as I raced west toward home. I’d forgiven her. I realized I’d forgiven her long before she ever asked for it.

She’d hurt me. I’d exploded.

I shook my head. I hadn’t learned. No matter how much I’d tried to do what Helen would want, strived to make her proud of me, I fell short. Instead of hearing Eden out, putting myself in her shoes, or giving her even a sliver of a chance of explaining, I ran.

I left her to deal with Mason and the Belle Mar fallout without me. If I’d actually thought about someone other than myself, I would have realized she’d have never done what she’d done unless she felt backed into a corner. Instead of thinking, I just pulled the trigger.

Small towns passed by my windows as I grew angrier with myself and then calm with resolution at intervals. By the time the downtown Birmingham skyline filled my vision, I’d long since resolved to do whatever it took to get her back.

I raced up Red Mountain, the early morning light straying through the bare trees along the top of the ridgeline. The Rochester home grew larger as I approached and my heart seemed to double its pace. I skidded to a halt in front of the door and propelled myself from the driver’s side.

I paused only for a moment to compose myself before ringing the doorbell. I heard the tones go off inside the house. I waited. No one came. I rang again and paced on the wide, low stoop. I weighed whether banging on the door was a good idea when I finally heard footsteps inside. The door swung inward, and I found Ms. Temple, sleepy-eyed and yawning. She woke considerably upon seeing me and flung herself at me.

“Whoa, what are you doing here?” I said and returned her embrace.

She pulled back and hemmed and hawed a bit. “Well, I, um, sometimes I stay over here now. But I could ask the same question of you! I’m happier than a clam to see you, but why the sudden change of heart?” Her solemn eyes, now happy, perused my face. “And you’ve lost weight. You look starved.”

“I haven’t been eating. Honestly, Ms. Temple, I haven’t been living.” I looked into the still-dark house behind her, even now seeking out a glimpse of Eden.

“I know what that feels like.” She shot a glance over her shoulder and up the stairs, no doubt toward Mrs. Rochester’s room.

“Is she here?”

“Eden? Yes. She’s upstairs as far as I know.”

I took a few quick steps into the house.

“Second door on the left,” Ms. Temple called at my back.

I wasn’t waiting any longer. I took the stairs two at a time, rushing toward either deliverance or dismissal. I hoped for the former. The stairs creaked under my weight, no doubt telegraphing that a visitor was in the house. I didn’t knock at Eden’s door, just swung it inward.

She sat up in her bed, sleep falling away from her face like snow off a sunny roof.

“Jack?”

I rushed to her bed and sat. Then I realized I didn’t trust my own voice. I nodded.

“It’s really you?” Her hands cupped my face. I placed my hands over hers, still warm from sleep.

“I’m sorry.”

She looked dumbfounded, sleep replaced with confusion. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the fuckup. I’m the one who ruined it all. I’m the—”

I stopped her litany of sins with my mouth on hers. She made a surprised sound before closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around me.

There it was. That feeling. The one you get when things have finally come back around and areright. I got the same feeling the day I was released from prison. This was a different sort of release, one that didn’t only affect my body, but my soul. I was no longer caged by fear, regret, or anger. Instead, I was set free.

She relaxed into me, surrendering sweetly to my kiss.

Someone cleared their throat. I broke our embrace and saw Adele standing in the doorway. She smiled so big that she did, indeed, look like the Cheshire cat favored by the Rochester women.

“Adele. We were just, um. Jack just came by to…”

I squeezed Eden’s hand. “I love your mother.”

Adele shrugged. “I knew that already.”

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