He hesitated, his fingers on the button of her jeans. “How many have you had today?”
Indignation reared its head. “Do I ask you how many drinks you have a day?”
He stared down at her from his taller height of six feet two. “No. That would mean you actually cared.”
Jessica looked away, unable to deal with another ounce of guilt without crumbling under its weight.
“I’m sorry, Jess. I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s get you into the shower and then I’ll grab your pills.”
“Thank you,” was all she could manage, stepping out of her wet jeans and climbing into the shower.
The hot water felt good on her chilled flesh. She shuddered in relief as warmth seeped into her body, forcing back the cold and relaxing her tense muscles.
“Did you eat today?” Owen called out from the bathroom doorway.
Jessica couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Though she had no appetite even now, she knew she needed food in order to take her meds without hallucinating. “No, I didn’t.”
There was a brief pause and then, “I put you a plate in the microwave after dinner tonight. I’ll just warm it up.”
She wanted to thank him but couldn’t conjure up the energy to do so. The door clicked shut a second later.
Jessica finished her shower, dressed in a warm nightgown, and made her way downstairs on wooden legs.
A plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans sat on the table next to a glass of tea and two small, white pills. Owen was nowhere in sight.
The sounds of the television spilled from the living room as Jessica took a seat and picked up her drink. She grabbed the two pills, tossed them into her mouth and then chased them down with a drink of her tea.
Swallowing the food proved harder than she’d imagined, but she forced down several bites out of necessity.
Owen’s handsome face appeared around the wall. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m good. What are you watching?” He really is handsome, Jessica thought, taking in his dark, tousled hair and light blue eyes. More guilt assailed her.
He stepped into the dining room, his glass of wine in hand, and took a seat across from her at the table. “Just the local news. It’s supposed to rain on into tomorrow.”
“I wasn’t planning on going out anywhere.” She took another bite of her meatloaf.
Owen gazed down into his glass of wine. “You could try painting again. You haven’t picked up a paintbrush since before… “
“You can say it, Owen. Since before Jacob died.”
He seemed to ignore her jab. “We need to talk about Florida, Jess.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not selling this house, and I’m not packing up Jacob’s things as if he never existed.”
Without looking up from the contents of his glass, Owen asked, “Would you be willing to go if we didn’t sell the house?”
“How could we afford to move without selling?”
Owen looked up. “We’ll dip into our savings and take out a loan against my retirement if necessary.”
Anxiety surfaced at the thought of not having access to Jacob’s room…his things. Deep down, Jessica understood that Owen was attempting to help her, knew that moving was the right thing to do. But she couldn’t bring herself to agree. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” Owen got to his feet. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jessica watched him go in a daze as the effects of her medication began to take hold. She briefly closed her eyes, grateful for the slight numbness the drugs always gave her.
She pushed her plate aside, picked up Owen’s half empty glass of wine, and took a sip. The tangy liquid slid down her throat, numbing her even more.
Taking the glass with her, Jessica stood and carried her plate to the kitchen. She scraped off the excess food into the trashcan and loaded the plate into the dishwasher.
After downing the glass of wine, she picked up the bottle sitting on the counter and made her way upstairs to Jacob’s room.
The door stood ajar, just as she’d left it the night before. She pushed it open and stepped inside.
As with every other visit to her son’s bedroom, the longing to see him curled up in bed overtook her.
She swallowed back her tears, took another drink of wine, and moved to stand in front of Jacob’s dresser.
The same dirty shirt he’d worn over three years ago lay draped over the dresser top exactly as it always had. She picked it up and brought it to her nose.
Jacob’s scent had long since disappeared, leaving a hole in Jessica’s heart to rival the one in her soul.
She glanced around the room, the tears she’d tried to hold back now spilling down her cheeks. Could she really move to Florida and leave Jacob behind?
Turning to replace the small shirt onto the dresser, Jessica caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Even in the oversized nightgown, she looked rail thin. She was slowly grieving herself to death and destroying her marriage in the process. If she hadn’t already…
Chapter Three
Florida
Three Months Later
Owen glanced in the rearview mirror of the moving truck he’d procured and backed into the drive of their new home in Sparkleberry Hills, Florida.
Jessica hadn’t spoken much on the long drive from Chicago, but she’d agreed to come and that was all that mattered to Owen in that moment.
After watching her nearly grieve herself to death for the past three and a half years, Owen was willing to do just about anything to bring her back from the edge. That included moving to a small town in the panhandle of Florida.
Sparkleberry Hills had been the last place Owen wanted to go. He loved Illinois. He’d been born and raised in Chicago, had a great job as a bank manager, and a decent retirement already built up. At thirty-eight years old, Owen had managed to buy a nice home and make some pretty smart investments. Life had been good until the accident that claimed his only son’s life.
Not a day went by that Owen didn’t think of Jacob. He had grieved the death of his son to the point of almost losing his mind. He’d been forced to hide his grief behind a mask of strength he didn’t feel in order to be strong for Jess.
The Jess Owen had married had faded away to a shell of her former self. She’d lost so much weight that her clothes hung on her and dark circles rested beneath her pretty green eyes.
He hoped and prayed he hadn’t made a huge mistake in bringing her to Florida. “Am I clear on your side?”
She rolled down her window and stuck her head out to look behind them. “You have about a foot clearance over here. But there’s a lowlying limb that might scratch the truck.”
Tugging the gear into drive, Owen pulled forward a few feet, turned the wheel a little and backed up once more.
“You’re good,” Jess called, her head remaining out the window.
Owen stopped the moving truck and switched off the engine. “Let’s go have a look.”
He waited for Jess to get out before opening his door and climbing down as well.
The pale-green cottage sat under a copse of giant oak trees. Moss hung from their low-hanging branches, gently swaying in the breeze blowing through. Rose bushes grew beneath the two white shuttered windows on the front of the house, giving the place a warm, inviting feeling.
Owen glanced at Jess. “What do you think?”
“It’s prettier than the pictures.” She never took her gaze from the house as she spoke. “Though it looks kind of small.”
“Let’s go have a peek. I was told the inside was bigger than it appears from out here.”
Jessica nodded, trailing slowly up the driveway that lead to the front porch. She stopped and waited for Owen to unlock the door.
He preceded her inside, flipping on the lights as he went. Though it was just after noon, the shade from the many oak trees made lights a necessity during the day.
The living room walls were a mint green, trimmed in white. The floors boasted of varnished wood that were bare of any rugs.
They moved on into the dining room to find the same matching paint and floors.