The Giving Season (17 page)

“No.” Michael shook his head, suddenly so furious that he couldn’t stay still. He stalked over to the fireplace, gripping the mantel with both hands and squeezing so tightly his knuckles whitened. All those nights of sleeping alone in their bed. All those tearful talks with the kids about why their mother forgot their birthday or didn’t visit. All those memories that had haunted him during the empty early days of their divorce—

“I thought about you all day today,” Ann said as she rose from the couch. She wrapped her arms around Michael’s waist, pressing her breasts against his back as she kissed the hollow between his shoulderblades. “I kept thinking about making love to you. The way you used to kiss me. The things you used to do to me—”

Michael squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He remembered all those things, too. Remembered them with such graphic detail that he couldn’t control the rush of heat that flared through his blood. Making love to Ann had always been good. That was the one thing in their marriage that had been perfect. Even when everything else had gone to hell.

Her hands snaked around his waist to his stomach, flattening there for a moment, temptingly hovering just above his belt. Ann stood on tiptoes and nuzzled his neck, kissing just below his ear, knowing full well the effect it would have on him.

“Let’s make love, Michael,” Ann whispered. “I haven’t been with anyone in so long—nobody has ever made me feel the way you do.”

Michael turned to face Ann. She had that look in her eye, the one he’d dreamed about for so many years after the divorce, the one he’d remembered so well from all their years together. She wanted him, wanted him now, and would do anything he asked. Once upon a time, that alone would have ignited a passion that couldn’t be satisfied until he’d buried himself inside her.

Now it did nothing for him. Nothing at all.

“Ann—” His voice trailed away as he caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway. Jessy. Looking at him as if he’d driven a dagger into her heart.

How much had she heard? What had she seen?

Ann turned her head, her smile turning into a smirk at the sight of Jessy. “Well, well—I suppose no one ever taught you not to eavesdrop, did they?”

“Hello, Ann.” Jessy said tightly. 

“It’s Mrs. Forrester, please.” Ann’s smile quirked.

Michael disengaged himself from Ann’s clutching embrace. “Jess—this isn’t—”

“I’m just going upstairs,” Jessy said as she entered the room, carefully avoiding his gaze.  “Please don’t let me interrupt.”

“Jessy—”

“Let her go, Mike.” Ann smiled coolly. “At least she realizes when she’s worn out her welcome.”

Michael lunged forward, fingertips brushing against Jessy’s arm, the contact just galvanizing enough to stop her in her tracks. It took every ounce of courage, every bit of control, to keep her expression impassive as she turned to look at him. 

“You heard her, Michael,” Jessy said quietly. “Let me go.”

“Yes, Mikey. Let her go back upstairs.” Ann’s smile grew venomous as she looked at Jessy. “You interrupted a very important conversation between my husband and I.”

“My husband and
me,”
Jessy muttered.

Ann’s eyebrows arched. “Excuse me?”

“If you’re trying to fake intelligence, at least get the grammar right.” Jessy returned Ann’s stare just long enough to see the anger flashing in her eyes, then glanced to Michael again. “I’ve called a taxi. I need to go upstairs and pack.”

Michael blinked, stunned. “You’ve what? Jessy—”

“Excuse me, Michael.” Jessy stepped past him, but he captured her arm again.

“You’re not leaving.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, how about this?” Ann laughed, the sound ugly and harsh in the silence. “She actually has enough brains in her head to realize when the game’s over. Good for you, Jessy.”

“This has never been a game to me,” Jessy said quietly, trying to control the quaver in her voice. “I don’t play games with people’s emotions the way you do, Ann. I don’t use people until I get tired of them.”

Michael moved toward Jessy, who would not look away from Ann’s icy gaze. “Jess—”

“Oh, that’s right, Michael,” Ann sneered. “Go running to her. Make sure your little fat friend’s feelings aren’t hurt. Where was all this concern this morning out at the corral?”

“That’s enough, Ann!” Michael’s voice tightened with anger as he turned to face Ann.

“What’s wrong, Michael? You don’t want her to know you and I were together this morning?” Ann glanced at Jessy and smiled spitefully. “Lovely time. Have you had the chance to kiss my husband yet? It’s delicious.”

Jessy winced but was damned if she’d let Ann see how deeply her words cut. “I can’t believe you’re being this way after what happened this morning, Mikey,” Ann continued, focusing all her attention on Michael now. “After what we discussed—what we did—”

“What we did meant nothing to me, Ann.”

“Michael,” Ann said softly, “I’m just trying to make you see before it’s too late,”

“Too late for what?”

“She’s using the kids to get to you. I can’t believe you don’t see through her little act.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jessy said, barely able to control her outrage. “You’re the one using the children to get back at Michael. You don’t even realize how much you’re hurting them.”

“Oh, really?” Ann took a step closer, almost cocky as she flicked her gaze over Jessy. “Tell me—how on Earth could you even imagine that Michael would possibly fall in love with somebody like you?”

“Somebody like me?” Jessy repeated quietly.

“Stop it, Ann,” Michael said, slipping his arm around Jessy’s shoulders. She cringed to think of how huge she must seem beside him.

“Look at yourself,” Ann continued, eyes gleaming with malicious delight. “It’s not like you’re going to have too many offers, as fat as you are. When an easy touch like Michael comes along, you’re going to take advantage of it. And all Michael feels for you is pity. Not love. Certainly not sexual attraction. Just plain old pity—he felt sorry for the lonely fat girl.”

For a moment Jessy couldn’t speak, so choked with anger that she could actually taste the rising bile. Somehow, with the intuition of the truly cruel, Ann had known exactly what to say to inflict maximum pain.

“Really, Michael,” Ann said with a suddenly brilliant smile. “Is this the
best
you can do? I’m disappointed in you.”

“Jessy is a wonderful woman—”

Ann cut him off with a disdainful laugh. “Oh, right—a ‘wonderful woman.’ And I’ll bet she has a great personality and a helluva sense of humor, too. Right?” Ann’s smile faded as she looked back to Jessy again. “Did you really think Michael could fall in love with you? Were you
that
deluded to think he could actually love somebody like
you?”

Jessy couldn’t bring herself to respond to that. Every fear, every doubt—Ann had magically magnified them a thousand times over.

“How can you stand there and say that?” Michael asked, voice dropping to little more than a whisper. His eyes blazed with anger. “How can you
say
that?”

“I thought we’d discussed everything this morning, Michael. I thought we’d worked everything out.” Ann’s eyes cut to Jessy’s. “We’re getting back together.”

“You’re what?” Jessy hated the quaver in her voice but couldn’t hide it, couldn’t control it. She looked to Michael, saw the sudden guilt in his eyes. “Is this true?”

Ann’s smile widened. “Of course it is, hon. Don’t tell me Michael didn’t mention it to you, as ‘close’ as you two are.”

Jessy studied Ann for a moment. There was something in the woman’s eyes that no amount of cruelty or anger could hide. She still loved Michael. And she still wanted him. Whether she wanted him because she loved him or because she didn’t want anyone else to have him was still in question.

Jessy turned to Michael again. “Is that true?”

Michael shook his head. “No—”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Michael. You never do.” Ann took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on Michael, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge Jessy’s presence. “It comes down to this, babe. Either
she
leaves, or I do—and you know I’ll take the kids with me.”

“That can be changed.”

For an eternally long moment they stood locked in silence, Ann’s smile twisting smugly.

“You wouldn’t do that,” Michael whispered.

“Oh, yes.” Ann’s eyes were as cold as the wind that rattled through the rafters of the house. “Yes, I would. In a heartbeat. I want my family back, Michael.”

Jessy suddenly couldn’t breathe. She took a step back, feeling as if someone had punched her in the gut. She had to leave. She had to go right now. Even though she knew she was leaving Michael to Ann’s manipulations, she couldn’t bear the thought of Michael losing custody of his children because of her.

Suddenly any pretense of strength, of courage, fled. Without a word she walked out of the room.

Jessy carefully folded the last blouse and tucked it into her suitcase, hesitating for a moment as she realized how final everything suddenly seemed.
She was actually going to leave. It didn’t seem real.

But she had to go.

She heard footsteps in the hall and stiffened, listening. The sounds stopped at her doorway, and Jessy could almost see Michael hesitating on the other side, one hand raised and ready to rap against the door.

A half-second later, he knocked.

“It’s open,” she said quietly, almost unable to work up the energy to speak. She felt wrung out, exhausted after the highs and lows of what had seemed to be an unending day.

The door opened and Michael stepped into the room, frowning at the sight of the open suitcase. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done before,” she said softly, the snap of the suitcase latches punctuating her words.

“You’re actually leaving?”

Jessy met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. “Yes.”

“If it’s because of what Ann said—”

“It’s not just that. It’s—” Jessy caught herself before her emotions got the best of her, closing her eyes for a moment as she calmed down. “I think it would be best for everyone involved if I just—go.”

“Of all the—” Michael smiled faintly, shaking his head in disbelief. His smile quickly faded when he saw the tenseness drawing down the corners of Jessy’s mouth, the sadness in her eyes. “You’re really going, aren’t you?”

Jessy nodded, but said nothing. Her eyes stung, her throat burned, as she fought back useless tears.

“I thought we worked everything out—”

“Nothing’s worked out,” Jessy said bitterly.

“Is this what you really want, Jess?”

“Of course not!” Jessy’s voice rose slightly, shaky with an anger that felt directionless, helpless. 

“Then why do you think you have to leave?”

Jessy’s gaze faltered a moment. She looked away from his eyes, lowering her head as she took a deep breath and sighed.

“I am not going to be the reason those kids are taken away from everything they love,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes once more. “I don’t want you to lose them.”

“We had this discussion before—”

“And that was before Ann started flinging threats around.”

“She doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“It didn’t sound that way to me. I believed her—and I think you did too. Didn’t you?”

Michael fell silent for a moment, shaking his head as he turned back to the door. He took a step, hesitated, and then looked to Jessy once again.

“Ann realizes that the kids are better off with me,” he finally said, his voice low and controlled. 

“I know that.”

Jessy faltered, taken aback by the quiet acceptance in his voice.

“No, you don’t.” Michael edged closer to her, not quite daring to reach out to her just yet. “Please, Jess—stay. Until Christmas, at least.”

Jessy slowly shook her head. “I can’t.”

The pain in her whispery voice made Michael’s heart catch. He cupped her cheek, gently urging her to look at him again. “Please,” he whispered. “For the kids. For me.”

Jessy gazed into his eyes for a few long moments, longing to give into him and stay. She didn’t want to leave, couldn’t bear to imagine the rest of her life spent without Michael and his family.

But she would have to bear it. Ann had drawn blood with her ugly words. How could Jessy expect Michael to fall in love with someone like her? It was a wonderful fantasy, but that’s all it would ever be: a fairy tale. A fairy tale with an unhappy ending.

“No,” she finally whispered, shaking her head as she lowered her head and slowly pulled away from his touch. “I have to go.”

Michael’s eyes darkened, brows knitting as he looked at her with a directness that made her uneasy. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked softly.

“It’s never been a question of what I want.” 

Until that moment, Michael hadn’t realized that it was actually possible for a man to feel his heart break, but right then his heart ached for Jessy. He wanted so badly to be able to take her grief away, to make up for all the cruel words she’d heard, to take away all the pain.

But in the end, he couldn’t. In the end, he had to love her enough to respect her decision, no matter how much it hurt.

“Okay,” he finally said, nodding as he reached out to touch Jessy’s face again, gently trailing the tip of his thumb over her cheek. “What do you need me to do for you?”

Jessy couldn’t hide the relief in her eyes, and Michael felt a fresh stab of pain at the thought of letting her go. “Nothing. I’ve got a room in town tonight. My bus leaves at noon—”

“So soon?” Michael caught himself before he could say anything more and forced himself to nod again, as if the thought of never seeing her again didn’t rip a hole in his heart and soul. “Okay, then,” he said, managing a faint, tight smile. “Tomorrow it is.”

And then, without thinking about the repercussions, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, lingering only a moment before pulling away and turning toward the door. Every step away from her seemed to resonate in his heart.

“Michael—?”

He turned as he reached the door, almost hopeful as he looked at her again.