Page 58 of Ablaze

A few minutes later, Owen gets called up by the girls because they can’t get something working on the TV, so I’m left alone with Jane.

She hands me a beer, turning on her fireplace with a remote control, and we both take a seat on some chairs in front of it. “Can I ask you something, Dean?”

I give her the side-eye. “Never stopped you before if I said no.”

Jane giggles. “True.” She takes a sip of the cider in her hands. “You haven’t mentioned Jessie at all tonight. Are you still together?”

I sigh. “We are.”

She nods slowly, as if processing something new and interesting. “That sigh says a lot.” She lifts a brow. “What’s up?”

Jane’s always been perceptive, astute. And while we’ve never had a long conversation about mine and Jessie’s relationship, Jane’s not a stranger to our ups and downs.

I twirl the bottle in my hands, watching laps of fire surround the charred wood inside the fireplace.

When I look back through the time I’ve spent with Jessie, yes, our ups and downs, our breakups–generally having to do with me not giving her enough of my time, or my feelings, or my affection–put a dark tarnish over any of the good memories we’ve made. But I can’t deny some of the good memories, either.

Like the time we went off-roading on my day off a couple of years ago and found a hidden warm spring. We floated in it for hours, just enjoying the day. Or the time I helped her paint her bedroom, and we started out flicking paint at each other and ended up getting into an all out paint war. Or even the time I taught her how to snowboard, and we spent an entire day laughing and playing in the snow.

But somewhere along the line, the fun times dwindled and her expectations of me changed. She started wanting more from me and my time, and I started wanting less.

I run my tongue along the front of my teeth. “I suppose things aren’t as easy and uncomplicated as they used to be between us.”

Jane seems to ponder that for another moment. “Were they easy because it was easy to be with her, or because it was easy to break up with her?”

We both listen as a giggle and squeal rings out from somewhere upstairs, and I can easily pick out Mala’s voice. I smile, my chest feeling warm. I’ve always loved her laugh. Sometimes when I watch her laugh, I hear myself laughing, too.

I know Jane’s still awaiting my response. “Both.”

Jane turns her body to face me. “Dean, I’ve never been the type to bullshit, as you know. I was in a bad place, a really bad place, years ago. After Zander died, you saw my life flip on its head, and I lost myself.”

I nod. “I remember.”

“But what I realized when I finally made it out of all that fog is that life isn’t just short or fleeting, it’s your last chance to live.” Her brows pinch. “Do you know what I mean?”

I nod hesitantly. “I think–”

“It’s your last fucking chance to have what you’ve always wanted. It’s your last chance to be who you’ve always wanted to be. Your last chance to love.” She takes a breath, and I see a tremble catch her chin. “Don’t waste this short life–your last chance–on someone you don’t love with every fiber of your being. Don’t waste your precious time on someone only because it’s easy to break ties with them. Spend it with someone you can’t untether your soul from.”

Her eyes ping-pong between mine. “What you’re doing–stringing Jessie along, knowing full-well she isn’t the one for you–isn’t fair to her or you. But you know who else it isn’t fair to?”

My heart beats inside my ears and I swallow, waiting for her to finish, knowing in my gut what she’s going to say.

“That beautiful woman upstairs. The girl you love, the one who deserves to know how you feel—”

I shake my head, hoping it’ll cut off the rest of her words. “I can’t. I won’t. No matter how much I fucking want to.”

“Why?!” Jane’s green eyes harden on me. “Why the hell not?”

I jump off my seat, trying to keep my voice low but not having much success with my tone. “Because of everything he put you through! Because if she feels the same for me–which, for the record, I don’t know if she does–I can’t . . . I won’t let that happen to her.”

Jane rises to her feet, taking a step toward me. “What Zander put me through?” Her eyes widen before they fill, pools of unshed tears threatening to fall. “Oh, Dean. Is this all because of what I said all those years ago? Is . . . is that why you’ve been holding back from falling in love? Because you think you’ll leave her, like Zander left me?”

I clench my jaw. This isn’t what I wanted—to make her feel guilty for feeling any of the things she felt before. What she felt was valid. She didn’t deserve what she got. She didn’t deserve to be left alone like that, pregnant and grieving.

Jane puts her drink down and places her hands on my forearms after wiping a tear from her cheek. “I am so incredibly sorry if I had any part in you holding yourself back, Dean. I was so consumed by my own grief at that time.” She takes a long breath. “It took me a long time to come to terms with Zander’s death. But once I did, I was finally able to move on from thinking about the way he died or why he died, to thinking about the way he lived and why he lived. He lived and loved without restraint. And he gave me the most beautiful gift anyone could ever have before he died.” She sniffles. “I’ve lived each day after him for our beautiful little girl and honestly, she’s the reason I’m here today. Because if it wasn’t for Catherine,” she shakes her head, “I’m not sure I could have gone on. I wasn’t strong enough. She saved my life. He saved my life.”

My jaw tightens at the thought of possibly having lost Jane right along with Zander. It fucking breaks my heart to think how lost she was.

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