Caring For Tears
Then, one day Jen didn't show up to Pacey's apartment at the
appointed time. He didn't get too worried until more than an hour had passed.
He tried calling her but her phone was busy. Pacey grew more and more frantic
as time clicked on and there still was no sign of her. He threw on his shoes
and practically ran out the door, barely pausing to lock his front door along
the way. Sprinting to Jen's apartment, he knocked on her door furiously and
frantically. He didn't remember a time when he had been so worried before. When
there was no answer, Pacey began to dig in his pockets for the key that Jen had
handed to him a couple of days ago, saying 'just in case." Irony -always
rearing its head at the oddest times, it seemed. Pacey had protested when she
gave him the key, wondering when he would ever need it. He had never been so
glad to have something in his life.
Pacey put the key into the door and unlocked it. As soon as he
walked into Jen's apartment, he knew something was wrong. It wasn't anything
that he could see, instead it was something in the air, something he could
almost taste. There was just something he sensed, even though he didn't know
what it was.
He walked around the apartment slowly, checking all the corners
to try to place Jen. Then, at her bedroom door, which was closed, he could hear
the sounds of someone sobbing uncontrollable. Feeling his heart wrench at the
sound, Pacey slowly opened the door and peeked around it. He saw Jen, clad in
her underwear, sitting at the side of the bed, crying her heart out. Pacey
didn't know what was causing this outburst, all he knew is that she was
hurting. And, when Jen hurt, he hurt. He rusted over to her side and pulled her
close to him, offering whatever comfort he could.
***
It had started out innocently enough. I
thought that he really cared, and at night, I dreamed that he held me in his
arms and told me he loved me, over and over again. How I dreaded waking up in
the morning to realize, once again, that it was only a dream. No one would ever
love me. I was not worthy of love. The past three years have been a web. A web
of deceit and lies. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror, that's how much I
despised my reflection.
I would look at myself as I prepared my hair
and make-up each morning. I would look at myself and say, "bitch, slut,
whore, loser," over and over again. I believed those words, because they
are what people have always believed about me. Now, I knew it to be true.
Before, they were just words, but now they were they truth. The bare and naked
truth.
Truth - what a funny concept. Everything I
had thought to be true and good in my life was a lie. Dawson loved, no lusted,
after a girl of his own intricate imagination. Pacey only loved a girl he
thought he could lay until he left with Joey. Henry, well, Henry believed that
inside my soul was an innocent, little girl struggling to get out of my hard,
outer shell. Henry...he was probably the one I hurt the most. But most of all,
I've hurt myself. Better to hurt myself than those around me.
I should have thought that something bad was
going to happen. I should have felt it in the air, smelled it, tasted it,
anything. But, no. I didn't realize it until it was too late. And by then, all
I could do was hang on for the ride.
Tom was such a loser, but I convinced myself
that I loved him. I convinced myself so much that I even managed to walk down
that aisle with him and vow before friends and a god I still didn't believe in
that we would love and honor and cherish each other for the rest of our days.
Cherish. Another false word. Tom didn't cherish me, he used me.
Every day for nine months, he raped me. Over
and over again. Of course, in his mind, it wasn't rape because I technically
didn't put up a fight and we WERE married. It was his right to sleep with me.
He never bruised me on the outside, but on the inside where it counted.
Thankfully, I always had birth control pills, which I was using without his
knowledge. If he ever would have found out that I was trying to prevent the
conception of his child, he would have killed me. Of that I have no doubt.
Why did I marry him, you might ask. I did it
because I believed that he loved me. Me, the girl no one ever loved. He did
love me, in a sense, I guess. He loved the beautiful, outer shell. He never
knew about the deep recesses of my soul where only darkness lived. No one knew.
And no one ever would, if I could help it.
After all, he had been so nice in the
beginning. It wasn't until our honeymoon night. Then, I discovered the truth.
After awhile I simply learned how to shut him out and just wait for him to
stop. That continued for nine months. Of course, tuning him out and being
unresponsive only made him angrier. He wanted me to hurt, to beg, to plead. But
I wouldn't give him that pleasure.
Finally, I had the courage to stop it. I just
sat there, one day, in my old rocking chair that had belonged to Grams and got
fed up. I was angry, so angry. Up until that point, I had been numb. Every day
for nine months was a blissful array of numbness for me. And no one ever
noticed. No one ever cared. But, on that fateful day, I was filled with such
anger and resentment. I did not deserve to be treated that way.
So, I upped and left. Courage is a wonderful
thing, but it really only lasted for a few minutes. Then it was fear that
propelled me. If I stayed in that house with my husband, what would become of
me? I was more fearful of what I would become if I stayed than if I left.
Leaving provided me with some sense of dignity and decorum. Staying would give
me nothing.
I got in the car and just drove. I drove for
hours, aiming nowhere, not having any particular place to go. And, as if by magic, I ended up here - in
Boston.
I don't know what made me so angry that day,
but perhaps if I had to point at one particular thing, it would have to be the
letter that arrived from Pacey. That letter saved me. And, in Boston, I would
once again meet up with an old friend and flame. Here, I would start over.
Here, I would be loved. Here, I could start to live again, no matter what.
***
Flashback - Pacey's viewpoint
I don't know what prompted me to write the
letter to Jen. I knew that I hadn't seen her or heard from her since her
wedding. Even before the wedding she seemed more remote.
Jen and I got pretty close during our junior
year, when we made our little pact. I knew even then that I loved Joey, but she
was unobtainable at the moment. Love was such a tricky and fickle thing. It
turned out later that Joey loved me to, but not in the same way. Eventually, it
all boiled down to one thing. Joey and Dawson were soulmates - and they could
never be split up. From now until eternity, they would love each other and pine
for each other and want to be together. After dangling on Joey's string for a
couple of months, I just reached for my mental scissors and sliced that thin
strand of string away. I was never that close to any member of the group again.
Jen, was the one person I thought I could get
to know better our senior year and beyond. Like me, she always seemed to be on
the outside, looking in. She didn't fit into the circle. I had ruined my
relationship with Dawson when I fell for his best friend and soulmate. I
screwed up my relationship with Andie and Jack at the same time. Joey, I won't
even go there. Jen, I thought, was the only one left.
Then, towards the end of our senior year, she
started seeing Tom, just on and off at first. It wasn't until a little over a
year later that they really became serious. I never cared for the guy that
much, but Jen claimed to love him. I say "claim" because, with Jen,
I've often discovered that she says one thing but thinks another. Her eyes, her
lovely, wounded eyes are so difficult to read. I never got that chance to tell
her that I wasn't sure about him. A little over two years had passed after
graduation, when she and Tom decided to get married. I thought it was too soon.
Too much, too quick. They were rushing the relationship and I felt that it was
bound to fail. Jen said it was what she wanted. But, whenever I looked at her
when she thought no one else was looking, she was so sad and depressed. But, I
couldn't touch her.
Honestly though, I have to admit that I
didn't try that much to get into Jen's mind. She always seemed to be an enigma,
at least to me. Dawson always believed that what you saw was what you got, but
I knew better. Something was up with that girl, but I didn't try to figure out
what it was.
So, Tom and Jen got married. I was even in
the wedding party, along with the rest of the gang. Jen looked stunning in her
dress, but she didn't seem happy. It seemed, in retrospect, like she thought
that this was the only choice she had. But, it wasn't. She just couldn't see
that.
I left Capeside after graduation and went off
to college, studying to be, of all things, a historian. So, here I ended up.
Boston. I'm still in school, struggling to get by. But, I'm going to make it. I
have to.
I promised myself when I left Capeside that I
wasn't going to look back. I had succeeded in ruining all of my high school
friendships, my parents didn't care about me, and the whole town still thought
of me as the town loser. Well, I wasn't a loser and I was going to prove that.
Then I would thumb my nose at the whole town of Capeside and say, "See
that. I'm somebody and you're not."
It's been a long and difficult road for me,
but I'm making it. Soon, I'm going to pass my finals. After that, who knows?
The skies the limit.
But, I digress. Back to the letter.
I was in my bedroom one day, just looking at
old pictures of me and the gang, recalling the wonder years of my youth. Dawson
and Joey had finally gotten married, so the soulmates won in the end. Andie had
decided to go abroad to study while Jack was in New York becoming an architect.
Jen, I hadn't heard anything from her. So, I sat down one day and began a
letter.
Jen -
I don't know when you will get this, because I'm going to have to
send it off to your grandmother's in Capeside since you left no forwarding
address. I'm sorry I haven't tried to get in contact with you sooner.
Well, onto the pleasantries. How are you? I'm fine, thanks you
very much. Am swamped with schoolwork though. What are you doing? Me, again,
not much but schoolwork. I just can't seem to escape it. How's married life?
This one I can't answer because I'm so busy with school I don't even have a
girlfriend, much less a marriage.
You know what? Something has been bugging me for years and I'm
finally going to address it. Maybe I can do so now because I don't see you in
front of me, sitting and looking at me with those all-knowing eyes of yours.
Maybe because I'm writing this on a slip of paper I can finally say what I've
been meaning to tell you and talk with you about for three years. If I'm out of
line, please let me know, somehow.
Why him? I realize that you believed you loved him, but why him?
He's nothing compared to you. But, I'm out of line, so I'll just stop. I wish I
could erase those questions, but I won't. I can't. I have to ask them. I
realize that he's your husband, but was he worth it?
I remember you walking down the aisle,
looking fabulous - at least from the neck down. You were scared and sad. I
could see that, even if no one else could. Then, at the reception, when I
danced with you and asked "Are you sure?" You said nothing. All you
did was look down at the ground and not answer me.
I wish we had been better friends in school. I wish that I would
have gotten to know you better, but in retrospect, all I can do is wish. But,
sometimes, wishing is a good thing.
I wish I could see you again. I wish I knew where you were. I
wish…
Keep wishing, Jen. Because hope is something that can never die
and I hope when you read this letter, you realize that I'm just worried about
you because I care for you.
I realize that this is probably a pretty depressing letter and
you're reading it while there are happy kids running around and your perfect
husband is coming home soon. Because, I'm sure your life is perfect. I just
wish I could be in it too.
Love Always,
Pacey
I folded up
the letter, placed it in an envelope, addressed it and sent if off before I
could stop myself. This was something I needed to do and if I didn't send it
off now, I never would. Because, for some reason, I felt that there was another
worldly presence pushing me to send off this letter. I didn't even bother to
reread it, because I knew that it wasn't my style. But the words just flowed
out of my hand, without me even thinking about them. For some reason, I knew
that I was meant to send this.
School continued on and I finished college and
received an internship at a nearby publishing company. Life continued on. I never heard from Jen.
Then, one day, about a month after I mailed
off that later, out of the blue, Jen showed up at my door. She looked awful.
Her hair was all messy and in disarray, no make-up, and worse of all, those
eyes of hers were empty. Completely empty. Even now, I can remember when I
first looked into her eyes and didn't see anything. There was no anger, no
disgust, no fear. There wasn't even a hint of despair. It was like Jen, the
inner Jen, had gone away for a little while.
She said that she found her way around Boston and used the letter I had sent
her for the address. Naturally she was used to navigating a big city, but I was
surprised she had managed to find my apartment. But, I was glad to see her, no
matter what state she was in. We had finally been reunited.
***
Flashback – Jen’s viewpoint
I remember when I first looked at Pacey after
driving from Atlanta to Boston. It was a long drive and I had only stopped to
get gas or go to the bathroom. I was exhausted and had reverted back to
numbness. I shut everything out along the drive, focused only on one thing:
Pacey had cared enough.
I remembered reading his letter that fateful
day. His words offered such comfort to me, comfort that I never knew I
deserved. It was like each word Pacey wrote drove a deeper wedge into the wall
I had built around my heart. When I read that I was worth much more than Tom, I
was just so thankful that someone actually cared. It had been a long time since
I felt that way. Longer than I cared to admit.
I sat in Grams’ chair and contemplated his
words and I knew. I looked back on the nine months I had spent with Tom and I
knew I couldn’t put up with it any longer. I glanced over at the picture of us
on our wedding day. Even then, we didn't look completely happy. So I left.
When I finally got to Boston it took me a
little while to find Pacey’s apartment. And then I spent a good hour in my car,
just looking at his building. What would he say when he saw me? I knew he
wouldn’t turn me away, if for nothing else than for feelings of pity. But,
would he feel like I was intruding upon his happy scholastic life? He deserved
better.
But I had nowhere else to go, no one else to
talk to. Sometimes I feel like I had painted myself in a corner. My only option was to see Pacey and get
help.
I finally mustered up enough courage to walk
up to Pacey’s front door and buzz his apartment. He sounded surprised when I
told him who it was, rightly so. But, he came down instantly. As soon as she
reached me, he enveloped me in the warmest, most comforting hug I’ve ever had.
I almost broke down crying right then. I almost told him everything. But I
couldn’t. Whenever I tried to speak, a big knot of fear grabbed my throat and
wouldn’t let go. At least, not yet.
I spent the night at his apartment, because
there was no where else for me to sleep. Thankfully, I had thought enough
before I left Atlanta to stop by the bank and clean out my checking account.
Well, in actuality, it was OUR checking account. I cleaned it out, nonetheless.
I deserved that, at least. I had given up my college education, my youth, and
my body for that man; I was at least going to be reimbursed for it.
It was such a relief to sleep somewhere without
my husband. All I told Pacey was that I wanted a divorce, as soon as I could
get it. He promised that he would help me out. Thankfully, he didn’t ask me any
questions.
We had a light dinner, but I couldn’t eat
anything. Slowly, but surely, the numbness was wearing off. I knew that I
couldn’t hide from my feelings much longer. I had to face them. They wouldn’t
go away, no matter how much I wanted them to. I knew that I couldn’t run
forever. Besides, I no longer wanted to.
***
Flashback - Pacey's viewpoint
I was just watching television, vegging out
after work. It was getting a bit late, and I hadn't thought about dinner yet. I
knew that I would get to it eventually. Looking around my apartment, I couldn't
help but feel pride at my accomplishments. I had gotten futher than even I had
thought possible.
Suddenly, I heard my buzzer, even though I
wasn't expecting anyone. I pressed on the talk button and asked who it was.
"Jen" was the hesitant reply. After a very brief moment of shock, I
said, "be right down." I threw on some shoes and bolted out the door,
practically running to the front. I couldn't move fast enough.
I reached the door in record time and opened
it to find her standing there, looking forlorn and lost. I immediately
enveloped her in a hug, saying in actions what I couldn't put into words. I had
missed her. I had missed her so much and seeing her again opened the floodgates
of my heart.
Pulling back, I looked at her downcast face
and tried to read what she was feeling inside. Throughout time, she had gotten
so well at hiding her feelings, but I didn't want her to hide from me. I
stared, deep into her eyes, and struggled to look within her soul. I found
nothing, and nothing had frightened me so much.
Of course, she ended up spending the night. I
couldn't, wouldn't, leave her alone tonight. I tried talking to her, but all
she said was that she wanted a divorce. And she wanted it now. I tried getting
her to tell me reasons, any reason would do. But, she remained silent. I knew
that I would have to wait. Time will heal her wounds, at least, that's what I
hoped for.
For the next couple of months, Jen lived with
me. She didn't want to be alone, and I didn't want her to be either. She needed
to learn how to live again, and I wanted to help teach her. I wanted to see
that spunky, independent girl of my youth back, if even for a short time.
Eventually, after gaining her trust, she
slowly told me about the past several months of her life. And, I knew that I
had never hated someone so much in my life. How I detested the man that she had
married. One day, he would pay. But,
until that day, all I wanted was for him to never find out what had happened to
his wife. I would protect her. Always.
**
Flashback - Jen's viewpoint
I got my quick and easy divorce. Tom signed
the papers as soon as he was served them. I consider myself lucky that it was
that easy. At least, in that aspect, I was unscathed.
Eventually, Pacey prodded me into telling him
everything. He never nagged me, but just waited patiently until I was ready. Of
that, I was thankful. I needed time to heal my wounds. I needed to remember
that I was a worthy person again. Once you get told something often enough, you
start to believe it, even if it wasn't true. Tom continually told me that I was
a failure. Everyday, it seemed. He would tell me how I was an awful wife and a
crappy excuse for a female because I couldn't conceive his child. After awhile,
I even tuned those comments out.
Pacey helped me. In small, inconspicuous ways
he let me know that I was special and someone worthy of his time and patience.
He never did anything elaborate, but I was always assured that he cared. Again,
for that I was thankful.
I lived with Pacey for a couple months before
I got established enough to have my own apartment. I even enrolled in night
school to work towards my education. Pacey helped me find a job that I both
loved and needed, if for nothing else than to fill the countless hours of my
day.
I remember the look on Pacey's face when I
first told him what I had lived with for the past nine months. He was enraged, practically livid with
anger. I didn't tell him everything, but I think he guessed. It was actually
refreshing to know that someone else knew my pain and emphasized with me. It
made me feel like I wasn't alone anymore. Maybe that's why I told Pacey. I
couldn't survive alone. I needed someone, anyone. And Pacey was my friend.
Eventually, I got my own apartment, only a
couple blocks away from Pacey. He was always there whenever I needed him, and he
actually offered for me to continue living with him, but I needed to start
being independent again. I had depended on Tom to love me, and now I was
depending on Pacey to support me, day and night. I couldn't do that to him any
longer.
I loved my new apartment, and Pacey and I
quickly established a routine where we got together several times a week, just
to spend time with each other. We would do a variety of things, from seeing a
movie, hanging out at our apartments, or having a meal together. It had become
a necessary part of my life.
Unfortunately, it was a day when we were
supposed to get together for lunch when it happened. How I wish I could change
the past. But I can't. And I have to live with that.
***
Flashback - Pacey's viewpoint
I had offered for Jen to stay at my
apartment, but she had refused. I think I know the reason why. She had become
more independent in the past couple of months and she wanted to move on and go
forward. She had a new job, now she wanted her own personal apartment. I didn't
mind because I knew it wasn't a slight against me. She was just growing and I
was happy to see it.
The first breakthrough came one night when we
were watching a movie. I forget which one. She turned to me, and said very
quietly, as if she didn't want me to hear, "He raped me." I couldn't
believe my ears. How could this have happened to Jen? How could she live with
herself and with him for so many months?
Especially when the abuse wouldn't stop. When I asked her this, she
replied, "I never told him no and I never fought. I didn't think I was
worth anything better."
I couldn't form any words because anger and
unjustness blinded me. I just pulled her tight against me and hugged her.
Thankfully, at my touch, she began to cry. It was something that she had been
holding in for a long time and it was time for the release. I was just thankful
it had finally happened and I was there to comfort her.
Even though Jen moved out, we were still
close and got together several times a week. I was glad to finally have someone
that could be a stable friend. I had only dated a couple girls in college and I
was never very close to any of my roommates. So, Jen was a happy addition to my
life.
Then, one day Jen didn't show up to my
apartment on time. I didn't get too worried until more than an hour had passed.
I tried calling her but her phone was busy. I grew more and more frantic as
time clicked on and there still was no sign of her. I threw on his shoes and
practically ran out the door, barely pausing to lock my front door along the
way. I sprinted over to her apartment and knocked on her door furiously and
frantically. I couldn't remember a time when I had ever been so worried before.
When there was no answer, I dug in my pockets for the key that Jen handed to me
a couple of days ago, saying 'just in case." Irony -always reared its head at the oddest times, it seemed. I
had protested when she gave him the key, wondering when I would ever need it.
I put the key into the door and unlocked it.
As soon as I walked into Jen's apartment, I knew something was wrong.
At her bedroom door, which was closed, I
could hear the sounds of someone sobbing uncontrollable. I felt my heart wrench
at the sound, and slowly opened the door and peeked around it. There was Jen,
clad in her underwear, sitting at the side of the bed, crying her heart out. I
didn't know what was causing this outburst, all I knew is that she was hurting.
And, when Jen hurt, I hurt. I rushed over to her side and pulled her close,
offering whatever comfort I could.
***
Jen's viewpoint
I could feel someone put their arms around me
and instantaneously knew that it was Pacey. No one else cared enough about me
to worry about me. He tried to give me comfort, but I wouldn't have it. Once
again, after the crying had subsided, I became angry.
"That bastard," I said, throwing
off Pacey's comforting arms. I stalked across the room, back and forth, back
and forth. How I hate him. Each breath I took in reminded me of his foul
stench, breathing down my neck, trying to force me to comply. Yet, remembering
the events that had just taken place didn't make me anything but more furious.
"Damn him," I screamed, and started
to frantically destroy my room, striving along the way to destroy any remnants
of his unfortunate visit.
Pacey just stared at me, stunned, I'm sure,
by my sudden outburst. I grabbed the nearest thing at hand, which just happened
to be a crystal vase that belonged to my mother. I grabbed it by the neck and
threw it against the wall. The sound of shattering glass didn't calm me though.
It just served to fuel my already furious temper.
Grabbing anything I could get my hands on,
pillows, sheets, make-up containers, glass objects, pictures, anything that was
nearby, I grabbed and threw. Eventually, I was too exhausted to do anything
more. I crumpled up into a ball on the floor.
For some reason, I was happy about the amount
of anger that I had inside of me. It meant that I was beginning to feel again.
It meant that I was still alive inside. Fear of becoming dead inside was a
horrible feeling, and I felt that way every morning that I was married.
I would sit on our bed, listening to the
birds and feeling the warm sun on my face and I would feel nothing. No joy at
being alive and well, no despair for being used. There was nothing inside of
me. I wasn't even unhappy when I realized that I had no feelings left inside
me. That's how much of a shell I had become.
But, seeing him again, fighting with him, I
was livid. And I felt good about that.
I turned to Pacey, where he continued to sit,
just staring at me, almost mesmerized by the sight in front of him. I held out
my hand, hoping he would know what I needed without me asking him.
He took it, enveloping it with his own hand,
letting me feel the warmth and compassion that was running through him, into
me.
"Thanks," I said.
He just nodded and smiled at me, letting me
know that he understood. I didn't know how he could understand what I was
feeling, but he did. For some reason, this boy I knew in high school had grown
up to be one of the most profoundly caring human being I had ever known.
I knew he was waiting for me to explain, but
first, I wanted to clean up my room. Disarray never allowed me to think
straight, and I wanted to be thinking straight when I told Pacey what had
happened about an hour before he showed up.
Pacey helped me to clean up my room, which I
was thankful for, because his being there reminded me that I was no longer
alone in this world. I had a friend. And he was the one that truly loved,
honored, and cherished me, not my former husband. I looked into his eyes and
wondered how come I had never seen the true value of him before. Standing
there, in the middle of my bedroom which looked like a tornado had just hit, I
realized something. In front of me was the man I should have married, the one I
should have loved. But, the past was just that, the past. And I couldn't change
it. But I knew that, in some corner of my heart, I started to open up again.
And there, in that bedroom, I once again began to feel.
***
Pacey's viewpoint
I watched her move about the room, swearing
and muttering under her breath. She was going to explode soon, I knew. There
was nothing I could do but wait for it to happen. And it did.
Boy, if there's one thing I have to say about
Jen is that she knows how to get angry. I just sat there, watching it happen.
If I would have interfered I don't know what would have happened to me, but it
probably wouldn't have been pretty. I jumped, though, when that first vase
crashed against the wall and rained down, broken and wasted. To me, it was a
symbol. I knew that vase had belonged to her mother, a woman Jen considered
vain and only good on the outside. Jen was like that vase, just a shell. But,
she finally has started to break out of that shell.
Finally, the tide of anger and frustration
subsided. I continued to watch her as she sat on the floor, waiting to see what
would happen next. Then, she reached out for my hand.
Again, the symbolism astounds me. She wasn't
just reaching out for comfort, though that was probably what she primarily
wanted. She was reaching out, finally, for help. Whatever had happened to her,
and I would place bets that her former husband was involved, she had finally
realized that enough was enough. She
couldn't do this alone and she knew that I would be there for her. At that
particular moment, I couldn't have been prouder of her. In fact, I had never
been so proud of anyone in my whole life.
After I helped her to clean up her room we
went into the living room and sat down. There, she told me what had happened.
Unlike before, when she just kind of whispered it to me, hoping I would hear
her, this time, she told me straight out and left no question to the sincerity
of her words.
Astonished, I listened to her tale.
“The door rang and I thought it was you. I
didn't even bother looking through the peephole. I just opened the door and
there he was."
Jen paused her to collect her thoughts.
"I was shocked, and he took advantage of
that. He pushed me back into the apartment and kept pushing me until we reached
the bedroom. Then, he threw me on the bed and started to get undressed. I just
watched him. I was too resigned to do anything else. I remember thinking 'just
do it and get it over with, then he'll leave you alone.' I believed those words
until he started to touch me. I could smell his breath on my neck. He was drunk
and sloppy. I could take him, if I tried. I started to fight." Again, Jen
paused and I
could tell she was happy with those words.
"That, I think, shocked him more than
anything else. In all our time together, I never fought him; I just let him do
his business. But I wasn't going to let that happen to me again. Maybe, when I
started to fight, he realized something in that big, drunken head of his. Maybe
he realized that he could get into serious trouble with this. I grabbed the
nearest thing to my hand and ended up with my hairbrush. And, I started to hit
him with it. He'll probably have a black eye tomorrow and I know I broke his
nose. That's when he left." Jen finished with a smile, feeling pleased
with herself, I'm sure, for causing that guy some serious damage. I knew that I
was pleased with her.
"Hopefully, that's the last we'll see of
him," I told her.
"I know it is," Jen replied. I
looked at her questionably, wondering how she could be so sure. She wouldn't
elaborate, so I didn't push.
Looking at her face, seeing her triumphant in
her victory, I knew that this woman had finally started to heal, both inside
and out. She knew about her worth, because if she didn't, she never would have
fought Tom. Like that voice in her head, she just would have let him do his
business and be done with it. But, this new Jen, was a glorious sight to
behold. She was growing in front of my eyes.
"Well, how about we get some lunch and
celebrate this momentous occasion?" I asked, extending my hand to her.
"Gladly," she replied and stood up
next to me.
I couldn't resist. I knew that I shouldn't
but I couldn't stop myself. Staring down at her eyes which were brimming with
emotion and seeing her finally smile a genuine smile, how could I resist her?
Softly, so I know she would be expecting it, I kissed her. And in that kiss I
tasted something wonderful. In that one, sweet kiss, I tasted joy.
***
That one kiss between Jen and Pacey cemented
a lifetime of friendship and love. They grew closer, day by day. Eventually,
they took their relationship to the next level. Jen knew that she had found the
love of her life by the knowledge that only someone who loved and cared for her
deeply could sacrifice himself the way Pacey had. Pacey, who before had only a
string of superficial relationships, knew that he and Jen were meant to be when
she didn't run from his help or deny him the satisfaction of caring for her.
There, in Jen's apartment, as they kissed softly and carefully, their hearts
became intertwined with one another.
It was still a difficult road for the two of
them. Jen refused to sleep with Pacey for several months, and even afterwards,
had a difficult time with the tenderness and caring Pacey showed her. Pacey
grew frustrated at Jen's lack of response and sometimes forgot all the ordeals
she had been through. Eventually,
however, their love for each other and their friendship, prevailed.
Two years, almost to the day, that Jen had
hit her former husband, Pacey and Jen stood in front of a justice of the peace
and declared their love. There were only a handful of witnesses, but all of
them, especially Joey and Dawson, commented on how happy they looked together.
In high school, who would have imagined that these two fiercely independent
people would find each other? Yet they did, and they were in love.
Jen looked over at her husband and smiled,
remembering the day he had proposed.
He was nervous, but not overly so. He kept glancing at her and
then patting his coat, where the ring was. They were at dinner and had just
ordered desert when Pacey leaned over and took her hand. Looking into her eyes, he stated,
"Jennifer Lindley, you are the love of my life and I am so happy that we were
able to find each other again. I want to have you in my life always, so that we
will never be separated again." With that, he opened the ring-case and
showed it to her. "Will you marry me?"
Jen was astonished and genuinely surprised. She knew that eventually
this might happen, but she didn't know it would be this soon. Speechless, she
just stared at him.
Pacey took her silence in stride, saying. "I know it's not
much and I know that it's soon, but I have never been happier then when I am
with you, Jen."
Jen smiled through the tears gathering in her eyes and said,
"Yes."
Pacey smiled back at her and slid the ring onto her finger.
"I will always love you, Jennifer Lindley. Don't you ever forget that."
"I won't," Jen replied.