JEANIE

Dear Travis,

Do you know what's the worst feeling?

Not wanting to hurt someone.

I remember the most important thing in my life is not hurting myself. To stay away from all the things that might cause me pain.

But once I met you, there was suddenly something else to protect from pain. Someone to make me see it is selfish of me to only think of my heart.

And it killed me to hurt you. To turn you down twice. To reject you so many times it probably killed you.

All because I am afraid.

Afraid of being hurt. Afraid of pain.

And even though I tried so hard to be free of it, it won out in the end.

It's winning now.

And I don't want it to.

I want to be free of it.

And I want you to be too. I thought that if it was me in your shoes, I would just not care about my wellbeing, only wanting to be with you...

But then I realized you would hurt. Hurt if anything ever happened to me. The pain that my death would bring.

Then again, if I'm away from you, and you're away from me, it doesn't matter anyway.

Because both can be permanent.

And pain is still there.

I'm sorry. Travis, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything and anything. Even if none of it is my fault.

Just... don't go.

Don't leave me. Not again. Not when I just got you back into my life.

But you will.

You will.

And I might have to say goodbye forever.

And you are only doing this to keep me safe, and I know why.

Because you love me.

Because you care enough about me to go.

I never thought I would smile over the words. That you were to go again.

But I am.

I'm not happy.

And won't be until I'm in your arms again.

So until then.

Jeanie.

I had decided, for once, to accept my Mother's offer to come visit her. Ever since the twins left, I had been working and working.

Mom called me up to come spend the day with her.

She said John wouldn't be around until dinner time, which gave me some calm before the storm.

So I said yes.

I only hope I am not going to regret it.

When I arrive, I am not expecting what happens.

"Lara Jean!"

My head whips up. I see my Mother standing on the doorstep of the house, a young man standing next to her, a smile plastered on his face.

I just about run back into my car and drive away as quickly as I could.

But they already saw me. And I'm not about to run.

"I want you to meet Nathaniel. Nathaniel Wilson, the nice young man I am telling you about a week ago."

I smirk, trying not to panic because he looks like he's about ready to pop the question that I will have to respectfully decline.

Or not. I could always sock him in the mouth.

Mother would die of embarrassment.

So this is why she enthusiastically invited me to dinner with her. And begged forever.

Oh, how disappointed you are going to be, Mother.

I can only smile as I walk up to the house, standing next to my mother, trying hard to ignore the fresh meat on my doorstep.

"Why didn't you tell me we would be having a guest?" I ask good-naturedly through my clenched teeth.

"I wanted to surprise you, dear. Lara Jean, meet Nathaniel. I've been telling him all about you just before you arrived. He is early."

The praise is just oozing from her mouth.

"Jeanie, not Lara Jean, nice to finally meet you, Nathaniel. And I hope she didn't bore you with every detail of me."

The kid just chuckles. "Nah, not too much. But since she's been talking so much about you, I had been wanting to come over, and when your Mother invited me, I jumped at the chance." His perfect white teeth hurt my eyes.

Invited? Don't you mean coerced?

Ugh, rich people. They always talk so stiff.

But pure pleasure is written on his face, and I can't help but hate to be a disappointment to him, but how is he supposed to know that I am still in love with my ex-husband?

I'm sure Mother told him all about Travis.

And how not to be like him.

She is probably giving him the talk when he first got here. And then when he agreed, she thought him amazing, and decided to do our marriage vows right on the porch!

"Well, I hope I'm not a disappointment," I say snarkily, hoping to cover it up with a smile.

I feel mom elbow my ribs.

My glare is all too noticeable to the young Nathaniel over there.

His smile is slightly fading once we walk into the house. Maybe he is having second thoughts on this whole thing.

About time.

I actually look at him when we sit down in the living room and see that he isn't bad. Not bad looking, or a bad personality.

He's sweet. And kind.

And not Travis.

Only a small thing is lacking.

His hair is curled over to one side and he is wearing khakis with a pink shirt.

Which threw me off. Pink is not males color, no matter which one is wearing it.

They just look unmanly.

Once we talked for half an hour, we all moved into the dining room to eat a snack.

And all my Mother talked about were my accomplishments.

Why not just prepare him? For the worst? For all my faults? For all my fears and failures, and my worst habits?

"They'll figure it all out on the honeymoon, dear" my Mother would say to me.

It's like, oh yeah, and honey, by the way, I already have two husbands and I kiss random men I find in the street.

An exaggeration, but you never know.

So I decide to backtrack on my accomplishments, and prepare him. Now, it is all pointless anyway because there is no way he and I are ever happening, but this is mostly to get back at my Mother.

"So, Nathaniel, has my Mother told you about what happened a year ago?" I ask him, horribly interrupting my Mother as she is telling him how early I am potty trained.

He shakes his head. "What?" The smile on his face is killing me.

"I am married."

His eyes show no surprise. No shock there.

"Yes, your mother told me, I'm so sorry for how it all ended."

Ah, so she even went into detail.

My eyes flicker over to my Mother for a split second before I continue.

"And did she tell you how I met my ex-husband just a few days ago again?"

Mother sits up.

Nathaniel looks between us, swallowing, and scratching the back of his neck. Now he doesn't look so interested.

"You did?"

I ignore my Mother. "And we were thinking about getting back together. I am thinking of maybe bringing him over here to meet you," I say, smiling sweetly.

He nods slowly.. "I didn't know," he says, surprised, looking at my Mother.

Hook, line, and sinker.

"In fact, why don't I call him now and invite him over?" I say suggestively, whipping out my phone, pretending to dial numbers.

Nathaniel stands.. "Actually, I have to get back to my house. I realized I promised my Mother I would be back," he says, leaving his full plate of fruit, and quickly says his goodbyes.

Then he disappears out of the room, and hopefully out of this house forever.

I sit back in my chair and eat a grape.

"Lara Jean! You can't be serious? After all he did," Mother begins, but I stop her right there.

"No, Mother, I'm not."

Then she got it.

"Lara Jean, how could you?" She asks slowly, looking at me with more disappointment than she ever has.

I sit up, not feeling in the mood to be the perfect daughter she has always wanted.. "How could I? I'm not the one matching up her daughter with a young man a year after she got her divorce. One she didn't want, mind you. And one that broke her heart." I point to my chest..

Anger fills me. I let out a breath. I don't get mad. In fact, I never get mad. But I am now. And it doesn't feel good.

I almost apologize but keep quiet.

Tears fill my Mother's eyes.

But she says nothing.

"But he's such a nice boy-"

I roll my eyes, getting out of my chair. She just doesn't get it!

"I don't care, Mother. I don't care if he's a nice boy! He's a candidate for you! He's a prize for you! All you have ever wanted for me was a marriage where the groom pleased you. Not me. You."

"But Travis did please you," She objects, still sitting in her chair. In fact, she seems to shrink into it.

"Yes," I say, swallowing my tears, "he did. But he's gone. And you blame me. And now you think it's upon yourself to find me a better one. Well, guess what Mother, there isn't. There isn't one better than Travis."

I leave the room. I have to. Or I will explode even further.

But when I reach the front door, John is standing there. No doubt he has been listening to this whole thing.

"Lara Jean, wait! Wait!" Mom says, coming out of the dining room.

I stay where I am. Face to face with John.

And the frown is even deeper now.

The hard breaths I have taken when I had been yelling made me pant, and it hurts to take a breath.

"You're home early, John," Mother comments.

His eyes never leave my face.

"What are you talking about?" He asks, and I feel like I've always felt when standing next to him.

Unwanted. And uncared for.

And hopelessly outnumbered.

"Travis. Apparently, he's back in town," Mother says. Then she waits for me to correct her.

But I don't. Because that much of my story is true.

John's eyes move to Mom's face like lightning when he hears the news. A brow raises on his face, and it's one of the first times I have ever seen his expression move from a frown to something other than a yell.

"He really is, isn't he Lara Jean?"

I want to deny it. Oh how much I want to deny it. But I only nod.

I can't do that to her.

Mother shrieks softly, "What did he want?"

John's eyes find my face again and don't leave when the question leaves my Mother's mouth.

"Nothing. He barely noticed me."

John narrows his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my darling."

"Are you?" I ask.

Mother gasps. John's eyes harden.

"Apologize to your mother right now," His tone is rising in anger.

"For asking a question I know not to be true?" I ask him, then clamp my mouth shut.

His expression turns to anger.

I forgot how easily he is angered.

"For being rude to your mother. Then back talking to your father."

I scoff. "You're not my father."

"I am now." His face is pink as he speaks the words with clear enunciation.

I scoff again. "What's that supposed to mean? Reprimanding me doesn't make you my father. You've never acted like my father ever since you married my Mother. In fact, you never even wanted me," I say.

He says nothing. But I can tell his mind is going berserk.

The whole room is silent. Never in my life have I ever talked back to him. This is a shock to them as much as it is to me.

"How do you know?" He asks.

"You sent me off to boarding school. You almost turned my Mother down when you met me. You never told me you loved me. You never smile at me. You never praise me. You just insult me, abuse me verbally, and even yell at my Mother for doing anything for me. You never ever wanted me. You still don't."

Tears are streaming down my cheeks during the process of me chewing him out.

"That's not true, Lara Jean. John has always loved you. He doesn't have to tell you for you to know it," Mother says gently.

I turn to her. "And I'm supposed to figure that out by the way he treats me? How are you so blind?" I ask, shaking my head. "Yeah, sure, he's never hit me or told me he hated me, but sometimes it's not needed for people to know."

Then I have to leave. I can't take two angry moments in one day.

Just as I close the front door, I hear John whisper harshly, "Can you believe that? So ungrateful."

A sob escapes my throat that I didn't even know is about to come out. I place a hand over my mouth, trying to hold it back.

But it doesn't matter. I just let it go, and let the tears stream down even more, the hiccups coming past my throat.

I walk slowly to my car, crying, weeping, trying to hold it in, my stomach cramping.

But then I feel a hand wrap around my wrist, stopping me. I fight the tug, knowing it is probably John coming to finally hurt me.

Giving me what I apparently deserve.

But I am pulled into an embrace, feeling two strong arms wrap around me. I feel my tears soak the shirt and chest I am leaning against.

And then I hear a whisper, against my hair, into my ear, "Are you alright?"

Travis.

I must be dreaming, because there is no way he is here right now. Hugging me, rubbing circles around my back, holding me so tightly it hurts to breathe.

I feel him pick me up bridal style, and my hair falls into my face as I hear the gravel crunch under his feet as we move. He sets me on his lap as he sits down.

A car turns on. A door shuts. We start to move, but I haven't moved from his lap.

Then the car stops after a while. I don't know how long it has been, but it felt long.

If this is Travis, I am glad for his embrace. Because I will miss it when he leaves.

I would miss him.

It just all seems to come back to him.

Somehow I wish it didn't. How most of the problems at my household started with the topic of him. Of our broken marriage.

Of him leaving.

But then again, all that has in common with me as well, so it can't just be him.

I am their daughter.

He's just a son in law who broke my heart.

And I'm the one who let him.

Travis picks me up again, and when I am set down, it is on a couch, and I finally move the hair from my face to see.

I am in the living room. His living room. I recognize it from the night we kissed. And when he showed me the letter.

The letter.

He shouldn't be near me.

But I am glad he is.

I am still in his arms, and I don't want to move. I want to relish it.

Stay here forever.

"Jeanie?"

His voice.

"Jeanie, are you alright?"

His concern.

"Look at me, Jeanie," he says.

His care for my well being.

I turn to look at him.

And his lips meet mine almost instantly.