Title:  Letting Go

Author:  Nicky

E-mail:  [email protected]

Rating: PG

Keywords: J/MP, MP/B, Angst

Summary: Miss Parker makes a choice that forever changes the lives of those around her.  Sequel to My Only Choice.

Disclaimer:  As much as I'd like it, these characters don't belong to me.  I'm just using them for fun.  Although, I don't think they have much fun in this story :-)  I'll be sure to send them to therapy before returning them.

 

Choices

By Nicky

 

Letting Go

 

Have you ever had one of those days you wish you could live over again?  Push the big rewind button of life and start all over?  Well, I'm having one of those days.  Except mine is more like a month long.  No, make that two months long.  That's when this all started.  Two months ago when I made the biggest mistake of my life.  Yeah, that's when it all started.  Or should I say, when it all ended.

 

It started like so many other days.  I woke early that morning with the sun shining in my eyes and a warm body wrapped tightly around my own.  I had a pretend to work on that would keep me out of town for about a week, so we spent the entire previous night saying good-bye to each other.  She made sure I'd miss her.  And boy did I ever miss her.  I still do.  That was the last night we ever spent that way. 

 

I kissed her good-bye, not knowing it would be for the last time and went on my way.  She begged me to stay.  She always begs me to stay, but I just gave her another kiss and told her I'd be back soon.  Which was the truth.  I came back when I said I would.  But she's the one who wasn't there.  Had I known . . .

 

I squeeze my eyes tight as the burn from whatever concoction my new friend the bartender just gave me makes its way all throughout my body.

 

"Give me another one," I manage to slur.  "And make it a double."

 

"Don't you think you've had enough?"  a voice from behind me asks.  The bartender looks over my shoulder and nods at whoever's there, taking away my many empty glasses.  He sits a cup of hot coffee in front of me instead and one next to me.  I turn around to glare at my guest.

 

"What are you doing here?"  I shake my head to reconcile the two images I see before me, but I only succeed in making myself dizzy. 

 

"Jarod, we need to talk."

 

 

Earlier that night . . .

 

The lock clicks over easily and I push my way inside the dark house.  No one is home yet.  But that doesn't matter.  I'll wait until they get here.  I've been trying for two months to track her down and I think tonight is finally the night.

 

Two months ago was the last time I saw her.  The crazy part is that I have no idea why.  She seems to be avoiding me.  Or running from me.  Deliberately trying to keep away from me.  It's ironic in a way.  I've become the hunter, she the hunted.  But where she's been chasing me for a few years, I've managed to track her down in a few weeks.  Seven to be exact.

 

I take out a flashlight and peek around at the living room.  It's been awhile since I've been here.  Reaching up on the mantle, I take down a picture and I'm stunned to see how much Debbie has grown.  She really has turned into a beautiful young woman.  Replacing the picture, I pick up another one and I think I literally stop breathing.  It’s a picture of Miss Parker standing next to a euphoric looking Broots.  But what catches my eye is the glint coming off the rings on their fingers.  Matching silver bands with no mistake in their significance.

 

A rush of air escapes, forcing me to draw another one in.  I feel kind of sick and dizzy and put the picture back in its place before hobbling over to the couch.  I sit there for what could be minutes or hours.  I don't really know.  But after awhile, I hear car doors slam.  They're home.  I go stand in the hallway to keep them from seeing me until they get all the way in the house.

 

Broots holds the door open while Debbie and Miss Parker come inside.  Miss Parker has her arms wrapped around Debbie's neck, hugging her loosely.  She's smiling.  She's happy.  My heart sinks.  It's like she belongs here.  They seem like a family.  Despite my anger, I can't hurt her.  I can't destroy that for her.  She releases Debbie and the girl runs upstairs.  I wait until she gets to the sofa before stepping out from the darkness.

 

"Miss Parker," I call.  She jumps when she hears my voice, turning around to see me where I'm standing behind her.  "Or should I call you Mrs. Broots now."

 

"Jarod," she gasps.  "What are you doing here?"

 

"Looking for you.  I haven't seen you for two months.  I was worried about you."  My voice is still calm and steady.  Nothing like how I'm feeling on the inside.

 

"As you can see, she's fine."  I break eye contact with her and look up to see Broots standing protectively over her shoulder.  "So if that's all . . ."  He looks towards the door, probably hinting that I should leave.  Being the genius that I am, I realize they want me gone.  But, I decide to play dumb for a while.  Instead of leaving, I move around to the other side of the couch and take a seat.

 

"I guess congratulations are in order," I say with fake enthusiasm.  "When was the big day?  I must have misplaced my invitation."

 

"We've been married for almost two months," Broots says.  Apparently my beloved has lost her power of speech.

 

"Two months?  Really?" I ask in my most annoying way ever.  I don't know what I'm trying to do, really.  Maybe bait Broots in some way?  Maybe irritate Miss Parker until she starts yelling at me?  Anything to get a reaction out of her.  She's just sitting there.  I should just leave.  Go while I still have my dignity intact.  But I don't. 

 

"As I said earlier, I've been looking for you for about two months, Miss Pa . . oh, I mean, Mrs. Broots.  I guess I should have started here.  It would have saved me all the messages on your voice mail.  All the e-mail.  All those nights I stayed in our bed waiting for you to come home."  And as if I haven't embarrassed myself enough, I feel an unexpected wetness on my face.  Great.  I'm crying.  I bury my face in my hands to try and hang onto that last shred of dignity before it's ripped away.

 

"Jarod," she whispers, grabbing onto my hands.  She pulls them from my face and wipes my tears away.  I look up and see that she's crying as well.  I enjoy her nearness for a few brief moments before pulling away and standing up abruptly.

 

"I'm sorry.  Broots, I didn't mean to intrude," I mutter hurriedly on my way to the door.  "I'll be going now.  You won't have to worry about me again.  Have a nice life."

 

I take one last look at her, etching her tear-streaked face in my memory.  This is all I'll have left of her.  I have to turn away before I cry again.  Surprisingly, I have the presence of mind to sneak out the back door to avoid getting caught by any sweepers possibly watching the house.  But after that, I'm on autopilot.  I leave my car where it's parked and begin walking until I see the sign.  JJ's.  Inside is dark and smoky.  Perfect for me.  I make my way inside and fall into a seat at the bar.

 

 

"What are you doing here?  Shouldn't you be at home with your . . . wife," I say through clenched teeth at the man now sitting next to me.

 

"Jarod . . . "

 

"What, Broots?  What do you want from me?  Do you want my congratulations?  Well, congratulations.  She's your problem now."  I end, not with a bang, but with a whimper.  And before I know it, for the second time that evening, I'm sobbing.  Crying into my coffee like a big, blubbering idiot.

 

"I shouldn't yell at you, Broots," I apologize through my tears.  "I'm just being stupid and jealous.  She's not a problem.  She's a gift.  A prize.  And you won her.  I can see that you love her too.  That you make her happy.  You're a good guy.  I can see why she loves you."  I lean over on him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. 

 

"You're good to her, aren't you?  You better be, or I'll kill you.  I mean that.  I know 714 ways to kill a man with my little finger," I say sternly, trying to keep a straight face.  But I can't stop the giggles from erupting.  I think I'm drunk.

 

"Jarod, you're drunk," he says, causing me to laugh even harder.  Didn't we just establish that? "And, you're an idiot.  She doesn't love me.  She loves you."  He moves my arm and pushes me back over to my stool.  "Now drink this coffee and sober up.  We have a lot to talk about."

 

"But, she married you," I say. Suddenly nothing seems funny anymore and I feel my lip begin to quiver.  I think I'm going to cry again.  Did I say something earlier about dignity?  Mine's pretty much nonexistent now.

 

"Coffee, Jarod," he orders.  "Then we talk.  The three of us."

 

She wants to talk to me?  Is that a good thing or a bad thing, I wonder.  Well, there's only one way to find out.  I down the cup of coffee in front of me and two more, trying to sober up quickly.  I need to have a clear mind for whatever it is she's going to say.

 

 

I stare at the numbers on the door for a few minutes before getting up the courage to knock.  This could be a trick.  It might just be a trap.  I won't know until I get inside.  But he told me she's in here.  That she wants to talk to me.  I have to take this chance on seeing her.  The door opens and I can tell that I made the right decision.

 

"Come in, Jarod," she says, grabbing onto my hand and pulling me inside the hotel room.  She points towards the sofa and I eagerly obey her silent order while she closes and locks the door.  Finally, she turns around and faces me, her eyes filled with tears, but the look on her face is far from sad.

 

"I've missed you so much," she whispers, walking to the sofa.  She sits next to me and pulls me into her arms, kissing my cheek once before snuggling into my embrace. 

 

"Then why?" I ask.  "Why run from me to another man?"

 

"Just hold me for a few more minutes," she asks quietly, squeezing me tighter.    I happily comply, pulling her closer to me.  It feels so good to hold her like this again.  So familiar.  Yet, so different.  She feels different.  Rounder and softer.  But in all the right places.

 

"You gaining a few pounds?" I ask jokingly.  She looks up at me with a gleam in her eyes.  She's so beautiful she's practically glowing.  I've missed her so much.

 

"Quite a few, actually," she smiles mischievously.  "Jarod, there's something I have to tell you.  I'm pregnant."

 

We sit there.  For how long, I wouldn't know.  I'm not sure if I stopped breathing of if I just passed out.  But the next thing I know, she's kneeling over me, pressing a cool cloth to the back of my neck.

 

"Jarod, wake up.  Come on, you're scaring me."

 

I hear tears in her voice, so I struggle to the surface and see her terrified face staring at me.  She helps me sit up and presses a kiss to my forehead where I feel some pain.  It's a lump.  I must have hit my head on something.

 

"You passed out.  Hit your head on the table," she confirms for me.  "I didn't know my news would be so shocking."

 

"It's . . . unexpected," I say.

 

"That's what I thought, too," she smiles, placing her hand on her stomach.  I look down and can see the swell of her abdomen now.  It's beautiful.  She's beautiful.  I just want to touch her.

 

"Can I? I ask shyly, my hand hovering over hers.

 

"Of course," she smiles, lifting her hand to stroke my cheek.  She takes my hand in her other one and places it on her belly. 

 

"H-how far along?"  I ask, confused at what I'm feeling.  I didn't think women normally showed this early in the pregnancy.  She's only been married to Broots for two months.  That's still the first trimester.

 

"A little over four months," she tells me.  I jerk my head up in shock staring at her with wide eyes.  A smile starts to play on the corners of her mouth.  "You're not going to pass out on me again are you?"

 

"Four months ago . . . me and you were . . . and now you . . .  we . . . "

 

"Yes, Jarod," she says, shutting up my meaningless rambling.  "It happened when we were together.  We're having a baby.  Well, two babies actually."

 

"Twins?" I gasp.  "Two babies?"  I reach down and put both hands on her stomach.  It's so amazing.  My babies are growing inside of her.  Our babies.  My own family.  But then I remember she's a part of another family now.  I look up at her, confused at what's going on.  But the look in her eyes tells me the other proverbial shoe is about to drop.

 

"This is why you married him, isn't it?"

 

"Jarod, I didn't have a choice.  I don't have a choice," she says.

 

"You could have told me.  We could have figured something out.  I love you, Parker."

 

"I know," she says gently, a tear falling down her face.  "And I love you, too.  But we can't do this.  Not together.  None of us would be safe."

 

"So you married Broots so that they'll think he's the father?"

 

"I married him so they won't take our babies, Jarod.  So they won't kill me.  Or you.  This is the only way," she says again, probably trying to convince herself more than she's trying to convince me.

 

The sad truth is that she's probably right.  I do fine on my own.  And I would have managed a way for us to be together safely if she wanted to be on the run with me.  But with a baby?  Two babies?  It would be hard.  But not impossible.  Maybe I can convince her of that.

 

"If I could find a way . . . "  I start to say.  But she quiets me with a kiss.

 

"I can't risk my children," she whispers, fighting back tears.  "I won't.  Not even . . . to be with you."

 

I look down.  Not angry at what she's saying because I realize how hard it was for her to say it.  But I'm sad because I know what she wants me to say next.  What I have to say.  It's the way it has to be.

 

"I won't risk them either."  I practically choke on the words.  But seeing her grateful smile, I know that's exactly what I was supposed to say.  "For your safety and for theirs, I'll let you go."  Even if it kills me.  And based on how my heart is breaking, I'd say that's exactly what's happening.

 

I kneel down on the floor in front of her and drop my head down to her lap, stroking her stomach.  Good-bye my babies.   This won't be forever.  I promise I will find a way to get back to you and your mother.  Or die trying.  Just know how much I love you all.  I look back up at her and see the tears shining in her eyes.  She's about to say something.  Probably good-bye, but I won't let her.

 

"Don't say it," I beg, covering her lips with my fingers.  "This isn't the end.  I will be back.  And we'll be together.  I love you."  I seal my vows with a kiss, drinking in her strength to fortify my spirit.  To quench my soul.  To let me know what I will be fighting for.  She is mine.  She's always been mine.  She always will be mine.  Someday soon we'll all be together again.  But that day is not today.  She's made this choice for us.  And for right now, there's only once choice left for me to make.  And that's letting go.

 

 

Go to Chapter 3 – Coming Home

 

 

   

Pretender Stories Home