In The Depths Of Her Soul

Chapter Nineteen

Aching heart. Steady breaths. White knuckles. Soft snoring. Henry's eyes. Water droplets. Windshield wipers. Road.

Deep breath.

Aching heart. Steady breaths. White knuckles. Soft snoring. Henry's eyes. Water droplets. Windshield wipers. Road.

Her chest aches from the constricted organ beating so aggressively in the confines of its home, like some caged animal desperately seeking its freedom. Slow, steady breaths, in and out while her grip tightens around the wheel, cutting off the circulation in her fingers, still conscious not to disturb him. Her eyes flick toward the stranger, blissfully ignorant and knocked out in her passenger seat, softly snoring away, without a care in the world. Her eyes dart to the review mirror to meet Henry's green eyes, but his heavy lids are beginning to droop. Her attention quickly turns to the rain plummeting into the windshield. The rhythmic sounds of the windshield wipers are soothing, sweeping away the harsh liquid obstructing her view. Finally, she focuses on the wet road ahead. Her headlights illuminating the reflectors in the pavement to guide her way home.

Deep breath.

She repeats this routine over and over again to distract herself from the haunting thoughts of what lies at home for her. She doesn't live far from Regina, by any means, but it seems the drive is long enough to knock Jack right out. She can only imagine how much whiskey he absorbed before he even arrived at her friend's house.

How fucking embarrassing.

The ache in her chest is crushing, forcing her body to hunch over in pain. Aching heart. She cannot and will not allow her mind to play over the embarrassing confrontation, yet again, because she will drive herself into an early grave from a heart attack.

She needs to remain calm. She has to settle her mind and heart to a tranquility that will no longer torture her aching heart. Steady breaths. She inhales the sticky warm air from the vents, blowing to keep their bodies warm and her windshield free from fog. She exhales slowly, making sure to force out all that stress that has been rapidly building in her chest.

Her eyes flick to the shell of the man that she once knew. His head is tilted back with his mouth agape, forcing light grumbles to resonate in the space between them. He's still that kind of ruggedly handsome that has all the women begging for one flirtatious smile to pass their way. Whether or not it actually leads somewhere is irrelevant, the whole purpose of that smile is for bragging rights.

Yet, now...while she stares at him in a deep sleep, vulnerable, defenseless...she sees the man that she fell in love with.

Two and a half years after Killian passed away is when she noticed Jack. They were friends well before, ever since she had brought Henry into this world, but she never saw Jack as anything more than a friend. Not even her friend, he was simply Killian's friend. After her husband had passed away, she expected Jack to leave as well. Why would he stick around when his best friend was gone?

Jack stayed though and he didn't just stay, he stepped up his game. He would come by the house and encourage Henry to continue playing ball. They would spend hours playing in the backyard while she was broken, watching from the window and wishing she could find the strength to engage with her son.

She was miserable and lonely without her best friend by her side, the man she expected to spend the rest of her life with. The worst part, was feeling like a failing mother. She tried to be strong for Henry, but her soul had been crushed and she felt there was nothing left to offer the people that she loved.

Jack would come by with bags full of groceries, insisting his kind act was no big deal and he just wanted to make sure they were still eating properly. It wasn't long before he was coming over to cook meals and take Henry out of the house.