Burning Wild

Chapter Eleven

I stared at the white gold disc, running the cold metal delicately between my fingers. It seemed surreal, something that I couldn't fathom. Of all of the things that I had thought Jake was hiding, having another family was not one of them.

Surely it isn't true. It can't be, I found myself thinking. There had to be a more logical answer. But my doubts were squandered, as I picked up the final item in the box. It was a photo of a young, happy family- of Jake's family.

The man in the picture barely resembled the Jake Lucero that I knew. Sure, he was a few years younger, but the differences ran deeper than that. The man in the photo was joyful and untroubled, whereas the Jake I knew now seemed haunted. The old Jake had a smile that was genuine and reached to his ears; my version had to force his smiles and had far more worry lines than a man his age should. 

I stared at the photo of the young, carefree Jake as he kissed a beautiful woman on the cheek. The woman had long brown hair, kind eyes, and a contagious smile. You could tell, even in the photo, that the couple was deeply in love with one another. There, on Jake's ring finger, was the wedding band that was lying in my hand at that very moment.

Jake's arms were occupied by a baby boy, who couldn't have been more than a few months old. A toddler with dark curls sat in the woman's lap, covering her mouth playfully as she watched her parents showing affection. They all looked so happy.

As I stared at the photo, I felt a piece of me wither. No matter what the connection was that we seemed to have for one another, Jake would never look at me the way he was looking at the young mother in the photo. He was unequivocally in love with her. There was no way I could compete with that. She was the real reason Jake didn't want anything more from me than friendship. I was nothing more to him than a fling, a side piece.

But the joke was on him because I refused to be someone's homewrecker. 

I had worked myself up for a few hours, preparing to confront Jake about the photo. One way or another, the truth was coming out. For the first time in a long time, I was waiting for Jake when he came home from work that night. A look of pleasant surprise crossed his face when he saw me at the kitchen table, my arms crossed in front of my chest.

"Hey, Cat. What's up?" he asked tentatively.

I wasn't sure where to begin. I hated confrontation, and I worried that Jake would get upset. Or worse yet, that he would be brutally honest, that I'd learn I was 'the other woman', and that Jake never liked me at all. I knew the conversation would be uncomfortable, no matter the result. Realizing that there was no point in prolonging the inevitable, I took a deep breath and dived ripped the band-aid off. 

"Jake... we need to talk," I said.

"Okay," he said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He placed his work bag on the floor and walked hesitantly into the kitchen. He pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, his eyes guarded. "What's up?"

I reached into my laptop case, and pulled out the framed photo, setting it on the table between us. I didn't say a word. I just watched as his eyes widened in recognition. Guilt coursed through me at the look of pain that flashed across his face. But this only lasted momentarily, before it transformed into indescribable anger. 

"Where did you get that?" he asked through gritted teeth. His voice was even and steady, but I could see angry fire dancing in his eyes.

"You know where I found it," I muttered, suddenly ashamed that I had meddled. "I know I shouldn't have invaded your personal space, but I'm not sorry that I did. You could have told me you had another family, Jake," I said.