The Choices I've Made (By the Bay #1)

Chapter Eleven: Jake

One night.

What the hell had I been thinking?

The truth was, I hadn't.

The whole speech about thinking it over and coming up with this perfect plan? It was all crap. Absolute fucking garbage.

The truth was, when I'd walked in that kitchen, taken one look at Molly with that sexy just got out of bed look as she argued with her sister, the thought of not doing this over and over, the idea of not waking up to her beautiful face the next morning, haunted me.

It had torn me up.

So, my mouth had opened, words had begun to spill from it, and soon, I had asked her to spend a night with me. Again.

One unforgettable night.

We both knew it would never be enough.

I could spend a thousand nights with this woman and still be ravenous for her touch, parched for the sweet taste of her lips, and begging for comfort only she could offer.

But none of it mattered now.

What had been offered was quickly rejected, and now, I was sitting alone in the yellow room, like I had done every other night since I arrived home.

Home.

What a ridiculous word.

It was said that home was where your heart was.

Where was my heart? Here? Chicago? Somewhere in between?

Maybe nowhere.

Perhaps this room was my home. Its sunny-yellow walls, so bright with promise and possibilities. They haunted me with what could have been.

What would have been.

This whole damn island did.

But, unlike the faded blue house of my youth, I found comfort within these four walls. I rediscovered old memories that brought smiles instead of tears, laughter instead of pain.

So, for now at least, this was where I'd remain until I was ready to face the rest of it. I'd drown in the warmth of these walls until I found the strength I'd left somewhere in my past.

Even if I had to do it alone.

I heard the door creak open around sunset. I'd given up on reading and called it a night about fifteen minutes prior. Island life was turning me into a boring old man, but after another long day at the clinic, I welcomed the idea of sleep.

That was, until I heard a light knock at the door as light spilled in from the hallway.

Sitting up, I caught the shadow of Molly's slim figure as she slipped inside. She carried a plate of food and a steaming mug into the darkened room.

But we both knew why she was visiting me.

"I brought you some leftover pie I had Millie set out tonight while I was at the hospital."

My eyes widened, waiting for an answer as I checked her for any bumps or bruises.

"I was visiting Dean," she clarified.

Settling slightly, I reached for the dish she held out to me and watched as she set the steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand next to me.

"How is he?" I asked, afraid to broach the subject.

"Good," she answered. "He met a nurse. He's pretty smitten with her."

My brow rose in surprise as I took the first bite of peach pie, nearly weeping with joy as the combination of sweet and tart hit my taste buds. "He what?"