Chapter 82

Jon hunched his shoulders up against the crisp morning air.  The early spring day wasn’t to blame for the chill he felt inside as he trudged along the now-familiar trail from Rachel’s house to his.  It was the resounding echo of her deadly quiet, “Go home, Jon – and stay there” that left him cold.   

Never having been known as one to blindly follow orders, he had stood in her kitchen for the longest time trying to find some reason to stay when she demanded he leave – but he couldn’t.    Right or wrong, he had crossed a line with the things that had come flying out of his mouth, and crossing that line had gone a long way toward stifling his domineering tendencies.  In the end, he chose to respect her wishes and let things cool down between them before trying to sort it all out.

Again.

If he were honest about it, Jon had known Rachel wasn’t going to be happy about him going to St. Bart’s with Dorothea and their kids, but he hadn’t had the heart to tell his son no when the boy had asked him to join them for spring break.  It was even understandable that Jesse asked.  St. Bart’s had been a tradition in their family for years – the kids had grown up spending their school vacations there.  

He had a responsibility to his children.  Period.  That meant he and Rachel were just going to have to come to some understanding and put the kids’ welfare before their own personal feelings. 

Her continued resistance to his maintaining a family relationship with Dorothea for the sake of their children had left him feeling a bit defensive and more than a little protective of his kids.  It made him crazy and confused to feel as though they needed protection from her. It wasn’t like Rachel at all to deny his kids anything.  When they were all together, she was more doting on those four renegades of his than he’d had a right to hope for, and the kids seemed genuinely fond of her.

But throw their mother into the mix and Rachel was just completely unreasonable.

He found that odd, too, because the few times Dorothea and she had been together, they were quite friendly with each other.  Rachel had never seemed the slightest bit jealous, and Dot had commented more than once on how lucky Jon was to have found a woman who was so attentive to their children.     

He knew his reaction to Rachel had been over the top and beyond cruel.  He hadn’t meant a word of it – certainly not the part about her being an absentee mother when her children were killed – but she’d hit below the belt, too.  Throwing it in his face that Dorothea had walked away from him, that she hadn’t wanted him anymore… Well, that was just uncalled for. 

It hit a nerve he hadn’t known was still raw.  

Nobody knew it, but he had thrown away all pride when pleading for Dorothea’s forgiveness after his last indiscretion.  He’d never told another living soul how he had begged her not to leave him and take his babies away from him.  It had been the lowest point of his life on every level and, when he came out of the fog, he vowed he’d never chase another woman like that.  He would certainly never grovel after another woman the way he had Dorothea.   

That whole scene had ultimately turned him into an empty shell with nothing more than a string of one night stands.

Until Rachel came along. 

That cute little blonde standing on the side of the road struggling with all those suitcases… Well, he’d been smitten before he ever saw her face.   A woman like Rachel was rare, in his experience.  She wasn’t into him for anything he could bring to her party, his money was of no interest and his fame didn’t even seem to rattle her.  For whatever reason, she just loved him. 

You soooo fucked this up, Bongiovi.

The question now was how to make things right between them again. 

                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Jon left, Rachel  lingered at the sink for what seemed to be a long time just blindly looking at the mess in the skillet and wondering at how, mere moments ago, her life was beautiful, and now...?  Now it was as ugly as the desecrated omelet she’d been preparing.

When all hell broke loose and Jon had insinuated that she was somehow lacking as a mother, it had been like a knife to her scarred soul.

Rachel vividly remembered the morning of the planned ski trip with Nick and the kids.  She’d gotten up with every intention of going with them, in spite of her fever and body aches, but Nick had insisted she stay home.

Hadn’t he? 

Or had she been the needy, whiny, pansy-ass Jon accused her of being? 

She’d never told anybody how she had tormented herself with the same thoughts – that if she’d been with him maybe things would have been different... if they’d left the ski lodge a few seconds earlier or later, they might all still be here.   

Lauren had been in the front seat, Tyler in the seat behind Nick….

Had the kids fought or otherwise distracted their father from noticing the road conditions?  Or had he simply hit a hidden patch of ice like the investigation concluded?  There were so many spots on that road along the Truckee River that would ice over even in clear weather.  Rachel would always remind Nick of it, but he would just tell her to let him drive the bus.

Somehow she still wondered if being there herself might have changed the outcome. 

Rachel would always question exactly what happened in those last moments.   How much time had they had from the start of the spin until the truck hit them?  Had they been afraid?  

She knew they had been, and it haunted her.   The last moments her babies were alive had been terrifying and, according to eye witnesses and the results of the investigation, Nick had tried, even in the spinout, to steer their SUV so that the impact was absorbed by him.   His last moments were spent trying to protect their children. 

In the end, the weight of the huge truck had been catastrophic and even the well-built SUV they were driving couldn’t protect them when the truck had essentially driven over them. 

She had never been able to look at the pictures in the report or even go to the spot the accident had happened.   In fact, she hadn’t been able to go to their graves after the funeral.   Her mother and sister went, but Rachel had always felt like it would be too real and she just couldn’t bear the weight of that reality. 

That day could be re-hashed, over and over, for the rest of her life and it wouldn’t change the outcome now – even if Jon’s accusations had been right.   That tragedy was part of her past.

The tragedy that she was dealing with in the here and now was a relationship that seemed to bring more hurt than she was willing to put up with. 

She didn’t know how long she stood there at the stove, but by the time she picked up her coffee cup again the liquid inside had turned cold.  After setting it in the microwave and hitting the power button, she wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling suddenly chilly herself.

When the electronic beep came, signaling that the coffee had warmed, Rachel curled her fingers around the hot cup and went in search of the leather sofa’s comforting embrace.   She sank into the cushions, letting them wrap her up in an inanimate hug that did nothing to warm her insides.  The blanket tossed over her legs at least helped to lessen the cold, physical ache that had taken over her body. 

She sipped the hot liquid Jon had prepared for her earlier, recalling the first time she saw him.

That hot and humid summer day while she struggled to move her too-large suitcases through the stuck gates... Everything in her world had changed when he spoke those five little words,  “Hey, need a hand there?”

Rachel got lost in recalling the memories they’d made together.  Their first kiss.  Summer by the pool, the beach, the Hamptons.   The first time they said “I love you.”  The many times they said “I’m sorry”.  

Their life together played out in her head like a movie.  Part love story, part comedy, part drama – it  was all those things.   Imperfect, to be sure, but it had been theirs and love had never been absent between them. 

She wondered if Jon remembered her asking him to promise if they couldn’t work things out, they’d ‘pull the plug’ before they ruined everything that had been so beautiful about them. 

It had been, she thought, very beautiful, but it wasn’t anymore, except for the brief respites between brutal fighting.  If they continued on, every good thing that ever happened between them…. every precious moment of love shared would be lost forever in a cesspool of bitter anger, and it would eventually become hate.  There would be absolutely nothing left of the “them” that was so exquisite. 

Rachel knew the time had come and, while it broke her heart, she was certain it had to be done.   She knew after this morning’s battle, that Jon would surely be on the same page. 

Decision made and unwilling to rush after him to put the final nail in this coffin, she leisurely sipped her coffee and let her mind wander over every tiny good detail of their life together.  She stored up every smile, every laugh, every sweet moment, knowing it would give her a sense of peace to be able to tell him goodbye with all those loving memories foremost in her mind. 

Logically,  she knew the bad times existed and had brought them to this end, but she let them fall away.  It was much like the wake of any other death.  She wanted to remember what was good about the life that had passed.  She wanted to remember that life fondly and not overshadow the beauty with sorrow. 

Love remains, she thought wistfully when her cup was empty at last.  When everything else is said and done, love remains. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was shining off the Navesink River, making it look like diamonds were floating on the surface as  Rachel walked the path she knew like the back of her hand.  She had certainly traveled it enough in the year she and Jon had been together, but this walk was… different. 

She went slowly instead of with purpose, treasuring these last moments of their relationship and appreciating the beauty of his estate.  She respected the hard work it had taken for Jon to build this empire.  It represented a large chunk of his life. 

She had walked past the dock most every day without a second glance, but today...  Today she was reminded of him kissing her, making her come alive again, on that very dock.  It was almost impossible to believe the two people who had kissed in that spot were the two people they’d become over the past months. 

As much as she was trying to focus on the love in their relationship, it was hard to think of him leaving her life.  It hurt to acknowledge that the man she’d wanted so desperately that day by the river was the same man she was willingly leaving now. 

Entering through the kitchen door as always she did, Rachel ran her hand along the wall where they’d first made love.  Okay, “made love” was a completely inaccurate depiction but she thought “fucked senseless” somehow seemed too crass to use in paying homage to that moment in time. 

The kitchen and family room were empty and, unless he were out running, there was only one other place she would check before looking in his studio.  That one other place was where she found him.  He was in his office, sitting at the enormous desk with his legs crossed on top of it. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, dropping his legs to the floor and turning to face her as she approached. 

He reached out to her, resting both hands on her hips as he dropped his head against her middle and sighed.   He reminded her of a child in these moments – moments when his remorse was bigger than his temper – and Rachel stroked the hair at the back of his head just as she would a little boy. 

They held each other for several minutes, neither needing to say anything.  Or maybe the silence hung in the air because they didn’t know what to say. 

“I’m sorry I slapped you,” was where Rachel finally decided to start. 

Jon drew in a deep breath and lifted his head, twisting her around to sit on his lap and then linking his fingers around hers.   “Don’t worry about it. I had it coming.”

There was a brief moment of silence in which he traced odd little patterns over her thigh with his index finger.

“I didn’t mean what I said, Rach.  You know that’s not what I think of you.  I know you were a wonderful mom… and you loved your kids more than anything.”  He swore softly, his fingers tightening around hers.  “Aww, honey…. I’m just so sorry.”

Her head fell to nestle into the crook of his neck. She wanted to memorize his scent and the way his body felt next to hers – to lock in those memories for the empty times she knew were ahead of her.   Her heart squeezed because she knew these were the last moments they would ever hold each other.    

Finally, she lifted her head and touched his chin so that he would turn to look her in the eyes.  Her voice was little more than a whisper when asking, “Remember when I asked you months ago to promise me that, if we couldn’t work things out, we’d walk away before we ruined everything that was beautiful about us?”

“We’ll work things out, Rachel.”

“No.”  Her voice cracked and her eyes filled with tears in spite of her intentions to the contrary.  “We escalate the hurt every time we fight.  It’s only getting worse.  It isn’t anybody’s fault – we’re just fire and gasoline – a lethal combination.”  She pressed a finger to protesting lips and then combed her fingers through the hair of the man whose face had begun to faintly show signs of what looked to be panic.  “Maybe I am too needy or whiny.  Maybe you are too wrapped up in the past.  The only thing I know for sure, Jon, is that you’re the love of my life – but we ramped things up enough today for me to slap you.”

He might not have even realized how tightly his arm closed around her waist, reiterating the panic in his eyes even as he calmly said, “Rach…  You’ll never know how sorry I am for the things I said.  You had every right to cold-cock me.  But honey... we didn’t come through everything we have just to walk away from each other now.”

“I’m not asking your opinion… or your permission.  The handwriting’s on the wall.  We’re going to end up apart one way or another.  We do it now, while there’s still something left, or we do it later when we’ve killed it ALL off.”

“Or we don’t do it at all, we forgive each other and we move on.”  His face contorted into a steely resolve as he strove to will things into rightfulness.  “That’s what we’re gonna do, Rachel.”

She couldn’t resist stroking the cheek that was still slightly red from her hand.  “You love me, Jon, but I’ll never give you what you really require, because I need all of you.  You’ll end up feeling more and more guilty because you can’t give that to me, and I’ll end up feeling more and more hurt because you don’t.  As cliché as it sounds, love isn’t always enough.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rachel.  We had a bad fight.  We said some cruel things.   It’ll pass.”

He wasn’t going to go along with this willingly, that much was clear.  They weren’t on the same page when it came to ending their relationship any more than they were on the same page trying to make it work. 

Even as her heart broke a bit more, she struggled to find the resolve needed to do what was best – for them.

“Jon, I don’t want a relationship like that.  I don’t want a man who hits below the belt all the time like you do – and drives me to hit just as low, even resorting to physical hitting.  It’s just not me.  Or who I want to be.”

He was wounded to the core – she could see it in his eyes – but  in classic Jon style, that hurt lashed out in what appeared to be anger. 

“So you think you’ll be happier without me?   Is that it?  I’m the ‘love of your life’ but you’d rather walk away than find a way to work things out?” 

She couldn’t hold it against him, the wall he put up between them.  It might not be exactly the way she wanted it to end, but Rachel knew this man like the back of her hand, and he was hurting every bit as much as she was.  

“What I think is that there’s enough pain in life that I can’t avoid.  To stay in a relationship that continues to hurt me…. Well, I don’t want to do that anymore – to  either of us.  And I need you to respect that.”

Jon pushed her from his lap and stood abruptly, forcing Rachel to stand as well.  She was still teetering on her feet as he stalked to the window, giving her nothing but his stiff back to look at. 

He knew the panic that was causing his heart to race and his breathing to go shallow would reflect in his eyes and he wouldn’t allow her to see that.  Jon wouldn’t let another woman see him without his dignity intact.  Dorothea had brought him to his knees once, and he would never put himself in that humiliating, degrading position again.  Not even for Rachel. 

Eyes blankly affixed on the lawn, he didn’t look at her when he drew on every acting lesson he’d ever had and said blandly,  “I never took you for a quitter, Rach.  But hey, if it really doesn’t mean any more to you than that, there’s not much I can do.  If you wanna walk, you don’t need to worry about me not respecting that.  ”

He managed not to flinch when he felt her arms on his back.  He remained stoically still and silent as she wound them around his waist and held him for the briefest of moments.  Then, without another word, she walked out of the room, out of his house... and out of his life. 

Jon stood at the window unable to move, as regret, remorse and sorrow wove together to bind him in a sturdy set of invisible chains.  They held him bound, motionless, forcing him to watch her cross the grass and make her way down the path that would ultimately take her out of his sight. 

Jaw clenched, he used anger to break the bindings of another failed relationship and silently vowed that nobody would ever get near enough to leave him again.