Chapter Ten
Reina Parrish
Jack stood in front of the altar sans his leather vest which he had taken off and respectively placed on the bench of the first pew and watched as I slowly made my way down the aisle. I felt my eyes well with tears the moment he smiled, and I silently wished this was true, that it wasn’t manufactured by a manic episode. That he truly wanted to renew our commitment as man and wife in front of God.
As I reach the altar, he takes my hands and we stare at one another, just as we did at our first wedding and like then, I thank God for bringing this beautifully broken man into my life. Without a priest to take a cue from, I wait for Jack to lead. Slowly, he removes my wedding band, flashing me his devastatingly handsome smile. As he slides it back on my finger, he vows, in front of God, to love me all the days of his life and more than that, he promises to never forget me and the life we created together.
When it’s my turn to renew my promises, I keep things straight and to the point, swearing to love, honor and protect him with all I am and all I’ll ever be. There is no ring for me to place on his finger, so I lift his hand and kiss his tattooed knuckles, sealing my vows. Jack brings his hands to my face and crashes his mouth over mine, kissing me in a way he’s never kissed me before.
The first time his mouth touched mine, he awakened my soul and parts of me that I thought were dead became reborn. This was different. This time when he kissed me, he wasn’t promising me a future but rather saying goodbye.
“You,” he rasps against my lips. “Always and forever, you, Reina.”
That was my cue.
For so long, one word was all I needed to say, and Jack knew I was his. That I’d die his. But one word didn’t seem enough anymore. I couldn’t send him off with a simple me. If this was my last chance at professing my love, he needed to know how much he meant to me. How much he would always mean to me.
My knees threaten to buckle as he cocks his head and narrows his eyes expectantly. Rubbing his thumbs over my cheeks, he wipes away my tears and hoarsely orders me not to cry.
“You’re the greatest love of my life, Jack Parrish,” I whisper softly. “You,” I say, turning the tables on our little two-word game that’s spanned through the duration of our relationship. “From start to finish, it’s always you and me.”
He gives me his smile and the corners of his eyes crinkle, showing the wear and tear of a hard life. For a fleeting moment, I want to tell him it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to fight anymore but I’m too selfish. I want him to fight until he takes his last breath—through the exhaustion and the madness, I want him to keep fighting because I never want to let go.
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“For marrying me again,” he explains, dropping his hands from my face. Clasping them together, he blows out a breath and that manic look appears in his eyes once again, breaking my heart a little more.
“You ready to get out of here?”
“Jack—” I start, reaching for his hands in a desperate attempt to rein him in. He moves out of my reach and starts for the aisle. “C’mon, beautiful. The night is ours.” My brain sends a message to my feet, but it goes unanswered as I remain rooted in place, watching his back as he walks away from me. It’s another somber moment and I realize tomorrow morning, I will watch him walk away from me once again. I’ll stare at him just as I am now and wish for him to turn around, but he won’t.
Most people wish for tomorrows and here I am, hoping to never see another one.
“Reina,” he calls, glancing over his shoulder.
“I’m coming,” I say, snapping out of my trance.
My feet finally get the message and I hurry down the aisle. Reaching him, I loop my arm through his and we make our way outside the church.
Back on his bike, I resume my position and wrap my arms tightly around him as he expertly takes me on a tour of Brooklyn. It doesn’t matter that the streets and neighborhoods are familiar to me or that I’ve driven down them a thousand times. I’m seeing the city he loves through his eyes and that’s an entirely different experience. Every corner holds a story, every avenue another memory. They say the streets make the man, but in Jack’s case, he made the streets. Like his family will feel the loss of him, Brooklyn will too.
He pulls into the parking lot of another Brooklyn icon, Roll N Roaster, the little hole in the wall restaurant he took me to on our first date where they melt processed cheese on everything. The engine dies, and I remove my helmet as he toes the kickstand down on the bike. Jack turns to me, takes the helmet and hangs it on the handlebars before lifting me off the bike and setting me on my feet.
“I could’ve taken you anywhere,” he says, tucking a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. “But when I started planning tonight, I remembered the way you looked at me on our first date, how fucking incredible I felt sitting across from you and I wanted to recreate that night.”
“I remember too,” I whisper as I lift my hand and wrap it around his wrist. “I wondered if you were thinking the same things I was. If you wanted to know me as much as I wanted to know you and if we could help each other write our future.”
“I did,” he replies. “I wanted to know everything about you and I didn’t just want to write a future with you, Reina. I wanted to write a fucking tale of the ages with you.”
“I think we did that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, Sunshine, we sure fucking did,” he murmurs, drawing my hand to his lips. For a moment we stand there quietly. Two creatures swaying like a bed of roses in the wind. The clouds hang heavy in the dark sky, dancing around one another like the two lovers staring at one another, avoiding the truth. He brushes a kiss against my knuckles before winking at me and leading me towards the restaurant. Inside, we recreate our first date. I get us a table and he orders more food than he can carry. Once we’re situated, consuming roast beef sandwiches, I lick the cheese dripping from my thumb and I make a suggestion. The very same one I made on our first date.
“Let’s play a game,” I say and watch as his lips quirk.
“This again,” he replies.