Filed To Story: The Things We Leave Unfinished Novel Free
Scarlett scooped her son into her arms and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his cheek. For William. “He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I’d take William to Colorado.” The tears came in a steady stream now, and William tucked his head in to her neck, like he understood what was happening. God, would he even remember Jameson?
“Then you have to take him.” Constance stepped forward and ran the backs of her fingers down William’s cheek. “I don’t know what happens to your visa if Jameson is dead.”
Scarlett’s shoulders curved inward as she battled against the rising sob in her throat. “I don’t either.” All it would take was a trip to the consulate to answer that question, but what if it canceled her visa? What if William could go but she couldn’t?
“If you stay…” Constance had to clear her throat, then try again. “If you stay, our father can have you declared hysterical. You know he would do it if it meant getting his hands on William.”
Scarlett’s tears stopped. “He wouldn’t-“
The girls shared a look, because they both knew he would. Scarlett held William a little tighter, swinging softly as he began to fuss.
“Jameson would want you to go,” Constance repeated. “Wherever he is right now, he wants you to go. Staying here won’t keep him alive.” Constance’s words faded into a whisper.
If he even was alive.
“You can’t help Jameson. But you can save your son-his son.” Constance gripped her sister’s forearm gently. “It doesn’t mean you’re giving up hope.”
Scarlett closed her eyes. If she tried hard enough, she could feel Jameson’s arms around her. She had to believe that she would feel them again. It was the only way she could keep breathing, keep moving. “If…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “All I would have in this world would be William, and you. How am I supposed to leave you?”
“Easily.” Constance gave her forearm a squeeze. “You let me finish packing you. You let me take care of you for once. And tomorrow, if there is no news, you let me help you leave. You take my godson somewhere he can sleep without fear of the world caving in around him. You can’t save him from whatever is coming his way-your way-when it comes to Jameson. But you can save him from this war.”
Scarlett’s heart lurched at the plea in her sister’s eyes. Constance’s face was pale, and the skin under her eyes was dark from obvious exhaustion. There was no newlywed glow about her, and though no bruises were obvious, Scarlett hadn’t missed the way her sister winced and shifted her weight often. “Come with me,” she whispered.
Constance scoffed. “Even if I could, well, I can’t. I’m married now, for better”-her gaze dropped-“or for worse.” She mustered a blatantly fake smile. “Besides, what would you do? Stow me away?”
“You would fit in the trunk,” Scarlett tried to tease, but it fell flat. There was nothing left in her to tease with. She was empty, but empty was better than feeling it. She knew as soon as she let it in, there would be no return to whatever this state was.
“Ha.” Constance arched an eyebrow. “Once I finish packing you, there won’t be much room. Are you sure this is all you can take?”
Scarlett nodded. “Jameson’s uncle said one trunk and two cases.” She’d filled Constance in on the plan the day before her wedding.
“Well then.” Constance managed a reassuring smile. “We’d better get you packed.”
William tugged on a strand of her hair, and Scarlett traded him her hair for a toy. The boy was worse than Jameson when it came to giving up something he wanted. They were two stubborn peas in a pod.
“They could find him today,” Scarlett whispered, glancing at the clock. They were still a few hours away from getting any update, if the last two days were anything to go by. “They could find him tomorrow morning,” she ended in a whisper. Please God, let them find him.
Perhaps the only thing worse than knowing Jameson was truly gone was not knowing. The hope was a double-edged sword, keeping her breathing, but perhaps only delaying the inevitable.
“And if they do, then Jameson can drive you to the airfield tomorrow himself.” Constance turned back toward the pile of William’s clothes she’d been packing and picked up the next piece. “Is there anything specific you need to take that I don’t know about?”
Scarlett breathed deeply, taking in her son’s sweet scent. You and William are my life now. She heard the words in her memory as clearly as if Jameson had been standing beside her.
“The record player.”
…
Scarlett’s eyes were swollen and achy as she pinned her hair in place. She’d tried her hardest to fend off the tears, but they’d come anyway.
Her fingers brushed over the handle of Jameson’s razor. It felt wrong to leave it all here, but he’d need it when he returned. She walked down the hall and took one last look at William’s nursery, her heart bleeding out as she pictured Jameson in the rocking chair with his son. She closed the door gently and headed for their bedroom.
Her handbag was on the bed, neatly packed with all the papers she would need tomorrow. It was surreal, thinking that she would be in the United States in less than twenty-four hours if all went according to plan. They would be a world away, leaving Jameson and Constance behind. The emptiness of it was almost more than she could bear, but she would keep her promise. For William.
She sat on the edge of their bed, reached for Jameson’s pillow, and clutched it to her chest. It still smelled like him. She breathed deeply as countless memories washed over her, drowning her in their intensity.
His laughter. His eyes when he told her that he loved her. His arms wrapped around her in sleep. His hands on her body as he made love to her. His smile. The sound of her name on his lips, asking her to dance.
He had brought her to life in every way that mattered, had given her the life that mattered most-William.
It was silly, and wasteful, but she took his pillowcase anyway, slipping it from the pillow and folding it into a neat square. She’d already taken two of his shirts, knowing that he wouldn’t mind.
“He’ll have mine,” she said softly to herself.
There weren’t words for the agony that twisted her heart, wringing it dry with harsh, unyielding hands. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“There you are,” Constance said from the doorway with William on her hip. “It’s time.”
“Can’t we give them just a few more minutes?” Can’t we give me a few more minutes? That’s what she really meant.
Today would be the last day the 71st would actively search for Jameson. As of tomorrow, the missions would resume, and surely they’d keep an eye out when they flew over that area, but after today, the unit would move on.
Jameson would be another MIA.
“Not if we want to make it to the airfield in time,” Constance replied quietly.
Scarlett glanced over the dresser and the wardrobe that still held his uniforms. “Once, you asked what I would give to walk through that first house we lived in back at Kirton-in-Lindsey.”
“I didn’t know… I never would have asked if I’d thought this would happen,” Constance whispered, her eyes heavy with apology. “I never wanted you to feel this.”
“I know.” Scarlett ran her fingertips over the folded pillowcase. “This is the third house we’ve lived in since we were married.” Her lips tugged upward at the thought. “Jameson is supposed to clear this house out next week, now that the squadron has completed the move to Debden. Maybe in that way, the timing is fitting. The next house we’re supposed to live in together is in Colorado.”
William babbled, and Constance shifted him to her other hip. “And you’ll be in Colorado waiting for him. Don’t worry about anything here. I’ll have Howie and the boys pack the rest of the house up for when Jameson gets back.”
A familiar burn stung Scarlett’s nose, but she fought back another round of useless tears. “Thank you.”
“Packing is nothing.” Her sister brushed her off.
“No,” Scarlett said as she found the strength to stand, slipping the pillowcase into her handbag. “Thank you for saying when, instead of if.”
“A love like the two of you share doesn’t die so easily,” Constance said as she handed William over. “I refuse to believe it ends like this.”
Scarlett took in William’s sweet face. “It won’t,” she whispered, then glanced at her sister again. “Always the romantic, aren’t you?”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.