16

Tamara reached over to the other side of the bed, and just like every other time she’d slept over, Jesse wasn’t there. But this time was different. This time it was of her own doing. The room was still black with night when she swung her long legs over the edge of the bed. Instead of moving, she sat there in the dark, going over the evening’s events and second-guessing herself. She had been so patient, had waited so long. It had all gone so well... until it didn’t.

She had come to his house determined to finally satisfy her curiosity about Jesse and to scratch her own itch. She was tired of being the good, loyal friend. Tired of being Jesse’s sympathetic ear and comforting shoulder. Tired of stepping aside, first for Diana and then for her ghost. After dancing with him yesterday, after seeing what a wreck he’d been this morning, she’d convinced herself she no longer cared about being plan B or a drunken conquest and that the autopsy results were just an excuse to get in the door. Tamara wasn’t a born martyr. She had no delusions that their being together was going to heal Jesse or make him forget Diana. She didn’t even know if there would be a second time. She would worry about that later.

At the moment she was too busy reliving it all in her head, remembering how she had strolled into the living room and set the file out across the coffee table. How she had asked Jesse to pour her a drink. She laughed there in the dark to herself, thinking that she was about the only person in the world who would have made autopsy photos and results a prelude to sex. But that was the point, really. If she had come over and made her intentions clear, Jesse’s radar would have picked it up and he would have reflexively backed off. She wasn’t going to let him back off this time.

After they had discussed the results and gone over the photos, they’d sat around for a while, talking about the case. Then when she got up to leave, she kissed him hard on the mouth. She had tried this before, to no avail. Jesse always backed her off, gently, muttering some kindnesses about how it wasn’t the right time or how he was committed to Diana or how it was too soon after Diana. But this time it had taken him a little bit longer to push her away. His protestations sounded hollow, so she kissed him again. The difference this time was that she backed him off.

“Jesse, I can’t do this,” she thought she’d heard someone say, as she pushed away from him. “I can’t go through with it.”

He tilted his head at her. “Why not?”

“I thought I could. I thought I wanted this. But I guess I’m not willing to sacrifice what we have. It means more to me than I thought it would. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Jesse Stone.”

“That doesn’t have to change.”

“Yes, it does, and somewhere you know that, too. It’ll change everything. It always does, no matter what we say or think.”

Whether out of some misplaced sense of obligation or to see if she really meant what she said or to test his own resolve, he made a half-hearted attempt at kissing her again. Maybe it was as simple as too much scotch, though that had never been a factor in the past. And when he kissed her, she slid her lips off his and asked him to just hold her for a little while. Now in the dark of the bedroom, Tamara tried remembering the flurry of thoughts that had gone through her head as he’d held her. But all that came back to her was the memory of her inner voice damning her for her sudden and unexpected surge of honor.

“I’m going up to the guest bedroom, Jesse, because I’m in no shape to drive. You need to get some rest yourself.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Hell, no, but it’s the right thing for us.”

He’d nodded, knowing it was true.

“And listen to me. Hear me, please,” she’d said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. You weren’t responsible for what happened to Diana. There was only one person responsible for that. If you’re going to blame yourself, then you have to blame her, too. You want me to come over and keep you company, you call me anytime. You know I’ll be there for you, but until you slow yourself down I won’t be coming over to drink with you.”

He didn’t like that. She didn’t expect that he would, but she figured she might as well use her newfound strength to tell him the truth. Of course the first thing he did was pick up the bottle and pour himself another drink.

Tamara had walked slowly past him toward the staircase, making certain not to look back. Even as she made her way up to the guest bedroom, she knew that looking back, regretting or not regretting, would be for later.

Later was now, and playing it over in her mind yet again wasn’t going to change a thing. She got off the bed, went into the bathroom, and got dressed. She crept down the stairs as quietly as possible and let herself out. As she drove away at the first glimmer of dawn, she could not help but look back and wonder what might have been.

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