Page 18 of Don't Regret Me
Liz.
The moment he saw her, he knew her face. The curve of her soft cheeks, the way her hair felt running through his fingertips. She’d looked at him like she’d seen a ghost, a very unwelcome one, and he needed to know what he’d done to her.
“Mr. Jacobs, are you okay?” a kid named Kyle asked, his distrusting teenage eyes narrowing. “I mean, you’re squeezing that ball like you want to murder it.”
He looked down, realizing he had the basketball in his grasp. He was supposed to be leading a game in the church parking lot with the Florida sun beating down on them. Unrelenting. Familiar. Before the accident, he’d spent a lot of time here filming the movie with Sherrie. Bea told him that. It was how Sherrie met Franklin.
He threw the ball, a little too hard to the kid behind Kyle, a girl a few years younger than him. She caught it without a problem and started dribbling around the boys. Nick watched her, thinking of the little girl from last night who’d wanted to know everything about him. No one other than his brother had ever had that much interest in his opinions.
In Hollywood, he was a leading man, but he was still just the talent. He hadn’t made the jump to directing or producing like a lot of his contemporaries, not because it didn’t interest him, but because that would have required him to ingratiate himself with the higher-ups, something he’d never been good at.
Most people didn’t like him, and that was fine. But it meant they told him what to say, when to say it, and wanted him to stay quiet the rest of the time.
The basketball slammed into his chest, and he caught it, going for a layup and jumping for the basket. The ball swished through the net, but when his feet hit the ground, a searing pain snaked up his legs. He gritted his teeth, breathing through his nose.
“Mr. Jacobs?” Kyle approached slowly, like one would a wounded animal.
“I’m fine.” Nick pressed on his leg, trying to stop the pain. Physical rehab had helped him immensely. Before those months, he hadn’t been able to walk, but he wasn’t sure the injuries would ever fully heal. Let alone his heart. “I just need a break. Cara!”
Cara, one of the other volunteers, ran over. She was a middle-aged woman who had more energy with these kids than he could hope for. “What’s up?”
“Can you fill in for me? I need a drink.”
“Sure thing.”
As he walked away, they resumed the basketball game. His legs ached with each step, bringing him back to the moment he woke in the hospital to realize they’d both broken in the accident, that his life would never be the same.
He made it inside, where the younger kids were working on some kind of craft. They chattered excitedly, and he slipped by without notice, escaping into the kitchen. When he reached the counter, he gripped the metal edge, trying to take the weight off his right leg and then his left as he pushed out a ragged breath. Was this going to be the rest of his life?
It was day five of working at the center, day five of being completely cut off from his regular life, something he was grateful for. No one from L.A. had called, not even Bea. He’d avoided the gossip news, but he imagined what it was saying about him not standing by Sherrie right now.
The odd thing about being here in Gulf City was knowing the man Sherrie cheated with could walk around the corner at any moment, wondering if they were together now.
“Everything okay in here?” Bentley walked in carrying two bottles of water. He tossed one to Nick. “A couple of the kids said they saw you come in here.”
“Yeah, sorry. I just needed a minute.”
“Don’t be sorry. Court-ordered or not, you’re a volunteer, Nick. You don’t owe us every second of your time. Frankly, I’m glad to see you taking a break. I think it’s the first for you all week.”
He was right. Nick hadn’t stopped moving since starting here. Working with the kids took his mind off everything else, and every time he slowed, the rest of the world invaded his mental peace.
Nick didn’t respond to Bentley. Instead, he busied himself with taking a long drink. “Thanks for this.”
Bentley pursed his lips. “Look, I know you want to finish your hours as soon as possible, but you’re going to be here for a little while. You should take some time to enjoy yourself. Next weekend, I’m short on volunteers, so I need you, but the weekend after, I want you to take it off.”
“I don’t need?—”
“You forget what I do for a living, Nick.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion. “Talk to God?”
A laugh barked out of the pastor. “I don’t need paid to do that. But no, that’s only one part of my job. I help my congregation get through the many trials of life. I’ve seen it all, but one thing most of them have in common is an inability to forgive themselves for things they’ve done.”
“I’ve already?—”
“It’s more than just saying you forgive yourself. You have to stop the punishment, stop thinking about tomorrow and the next day, and begin to enjoy this life now. Let yourself live.”
Nick was about to deny that he didn’t live, but he couldn’t lie to this man. Even before the accident, he couldn’t get over the fact that he was still here while Stephen was gone. “Okay. I’ll take that weekend off.”
