JACK
　　He lurked outside MJ’s house for a long time, only to have her landlord tell him that she’d left on vacation with friends a few days before.
　　Of course.
　　His world was crumbling around him.
　　That night, he sent another email to Rebecca’s fan mail address. To date, none of his previous emails had been acknowledged or replied to.
　　Becks, please, just talk to me. MJ is lying to you.
　　He sent the email and took a deep breath as his heart drummed an erratic beat in his chest.
　　His thoughts turned to Mervyn’s words—that Rebecca had found his flaw.
　　What flaw? What had MJ told her that was so horrible?
　　And why was Rebecca looking for flaws? Why hadn’t she just asked him? He would have gladly told her anything she wanted to know.
　　That he was guarded. That nobody had reached him the way she did. That he pretended for his brother’s sake that the loss of his wife and unborn child wasn’t excruciating after seven years. That he’d screwed a woman he didn’t even care about.
　　She should have just asked him what she wanted to know.
　　He wasn’t perfect, far from it.
　　He fell back into his old routine, the one he’d had before Rebecca entered his life.
　　But his mind would conjure up images of her sitting on the counter in his kitchen, licking brownie batter off her finger, and others things. Haunted by her presence, he fled to his family’s restaurant to work, for a change of scenery.
　　But there, he saw visions of her with that little boy—Mona’s son, it had turned out—in the play area at the family restaurant.
　　There was no way to escape her. She was everywhere.
　　He was drowning, and it wasn’t her status or her lifestyle, as he’d once feared. It was her silence.
　　His brother and his family would arrive the following week, but Jack no longer looked forward to it.
　　Their birthday was three weeks away, and what he’d planned for this occasion went out the window.
　　He could only focus on one thing; the need to speak to Rebecca, to shake whatever MJ had said out of her.
　　Frustrated, he gave up on the task he’d assigned himself. Things were pretty much in order for the evening, anyway.
　　Turning, he walked out of the kitchen and stopped dead. There she was—MJ, casual and carefree, chatting animatedly with his mother and sister.
　　Jack’s anger punched into every vein. He stormed over, grabbed her arm, and pulled her aside.
　　“Ow!”
　　“What did you tell her?” he growled.
　　“Excuse me?”
　　“Jack, calm down.” His mother tried to make him let go of MJ’s arm.
　　“You’re hurting me!”
　　He ignored them both. “What did you tell her, MJ?”
　　“Who?” she asked.
　　“You know who. Tell me!”
　　She knew exactly what he was talking about, even though he didn’t yet. Her eyes were awash with something—guilt? No, something else. She looked to the floor.
　　“Tell me, MJ.”
　　“Jack, what is going on?”
　　“Not now, Mother.”
　　MJ shook her head. Not speaking.
　　“MJ, so help me—”
　　“No. You aren’t ready, Jack. Not for her. The world will drown you. I’m saving you.”
　　“I’m already drowning, and the worst part is that it had nothing to do with her fucking world.”
　　“Jack, what is going on?” his mother persisted.
　　MJ started to laugh. “You haven’t even told your mother yet, have you?”
　　“Told me what?”
　　“Mother! I said not now!” Jack shouted. “MJ, if you don’t open your fucking mouth right—”
　　“I did it for your own good! Kate would’ve never—”
　　“Kate’s dead. What, just because I didn’t fall for you, her fucking best friend, you think you can dictate my life? Choose who I see, or who I shouldn’t? I’m sorry I didn’t have it in me to fall in love with you, Mary Jane. But more than ever, I’m glad Ididn’t. Because you’re a backstabbing little bitch.”
　　His mother gasped, cupping her face with her hands.
　　MJ slapped him square in the face. “I don’t even know who you are, Jack. I’ll ignore that last statement.” She stalked off.
　　He wanted to scream, the urge so strong he was about ready to explode. As he made to follow her, a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and restrained him.
　　“Let go of me,” he yelled.
　　His father held him back. “Go calm down, son. You’re making a scene.”
　　Grunting his frustration, he turned on his heels and stormed off.
　　His mother, God give him strength, trailed behind him, peppering him with questions.
　　“Jack, what is going on? What was MJ talking about?”
　　“Oh, nothing. She just ruined my fucking life.” He strode toward the kitchen.
　　“Leave him be,” his father said in a gentle voice.
　　Thankfully, for once, she took heed and left him alone.
　　He opened the huge walk-in fridge, stepped in and allowed the door to shut him in. He grabbed one of the carcasses in his fists—screams left his mouth until his throat felt raw.
　　He stayed there until he was certain he was calm enough to face the world again.
　　Which was too long for his mother, apparently.
　　She started trembling as soon as she walked in, bending down to drape a coat over his shoulders. “Jack?” Her tone of voice showed her concern. “You’re shaking from the cold. It’s time to come out of the fridge now, darling. Please come talk to Adrian. He’s on the computer.”
　　“I don’t want to talk to him.”
　　“Jack Priestley, I’ve just about had it with you. Now you get your rear out of this fridge and go talk to your brother,” she stated, teeth chattering.
　　Jack felt like a little boy being reprimanded by his mother for having been naughty. Sighing, he stood on stiff legs and headed to the back office.
　　His brother was on the cruise liner, which Jack wasn’t thrilled about. In the background, several other people were seated, typing on laptops, or on video calls.
　　Adrian saw he’d noticed. “Sorry. The Wi-Fi on this cruise, I swear to God. The hotspotin our cabin is down today, so I’m at one of the internet cafés on a different level of the ship.”
　　Jack felt a stab of guilt. How long had Adrian been waiting there for him?
　　But before he could vocalize this, Adrian asked, “What did MJ say?”
　　“Nothing, except that she did me a favor.”
　　“What did she mean when she said, ‘the world will drown you?” his mother asked from behind him.
　　Leave it to her to zero in on that.
　　“Mother, please,” Jack ground out wearily.
　　“Dude, you need to tell Mom. She won’t understand any of this unless you explain it to her.”
　　Jack leaned back in the office chair, covering his eyes with the back of one hand.
　　Silence filled the air.
　　Eventually, his mother turned to the laptop. “Adrian, youtell me, since Jack refuses.”
　　Jack remained quiet. So did Adrian.
　　“Speak to me, both of you! What is going on?”
　　“Okay, crazy woman,” Adrian said.
　　Jack laughed for no reason, and Adrian smiled. “You might need to get Mom a brown bag orsomething. Maybe an oxygen tank.”
　　“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she protested. “It can’t be that bad.”
　　“It is,” Jack answered. “But since we don’t have a spare oxygen tank lying around, abrown bag will have to do.” Jack got up.
　　“Goodness, just tell me.”
　　He walked out to the host station and grabbed a brown paper bag from the stock of the to-go supplies.
　　His father followed Jack back to the office, taking the second chair behind the desk, side-by-side with his son.
　　Jack looked around—his bewildered-looking mother across from him, his quietly expectant father beside him, and Adrian on the laptop looking as miserable as he felt, no doubt feeling the onslaught of negative energy like he always did when Jack had a rough patch.
　　Ah, what the fuck? Might as well.
　　He handed the bag to his mother.
　　She turned up her nose. “I don’t need it.”
　　“Just take it, Mom,” Adrian advised.
　　With a huff, she accepted it, making a show of setting it on the desk in front of her.
　　“You cannot tell anyone, Mom,” Adrian forewarned. “Not your sister in Timbuktu or Aunt Betty, okay?”
　　“Just tell me.”
　　“Mother.” Jack’s voice was stern. “Swear. You cannot tell a soul about this. It stays in this office. No pulling April or any of the rest of my crazy sisters in here to tell them. No loopholes.”
　　“Okay, I promise.”
　　“Are you in trouble, Jack?” his dad asked.
　　Adrian chuckled. “No, but Mom might be in a few minutes.”
　　Jack sighed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
　　“Then I’ll tell them,” Adrian muttered. “You know Jack has a new mystery girl, right?”
　　His mother nodded, one eyebrow raised in irritation.
　　“She broke it off because MJ told her something, but we don’t know what.”
　　“Then ask the woman, Jack.”
　　Jack laughed bitterly.
　　“Mom, he’s trying, but it’s not working.”
　　“What do you mean? Just go to her and ask her.”
　　“It’s not that easy.”
　　She crossed her arms. “It is that easy.”
　　“She is heavily guarded, Mom,” Adrian said.
　　“She in jail?”
　　Jack and Adrian laughed. It felt good to be laughing again, even if it was only for a moment.
　　“Something like that,” Adrian said.
　　“For heaven’s sake.” The panic was clear in his mother’s voice.
　　“She’s not in jail. Jack, I’m just gonna tell them.”
　　“Go for it.”
　　“Mom, Jack was seeing Rebecca Finlay.”
　　His mom froze and then she looked at Jack, who finally made eye contact.
　　“Who?” It barely came out.
　　“Just breathe in the bag until it sinks in.”
　　Taking the bag, she held it up to her mouth and breathed into it slowly.
　　“All that press about her mystery guy…it was me.” He sighed, rubbing his face.
　　His father cleared his throat. “Rebecca Finlay, the author?”
　　“Yes, unless you know another person by that name whose world could drown me?”
　　His mother breathed faster.
　　Adrian shook with silent laughter.
　　“Oh, fuck,” Jack groaned. “You aren’t here dealing with this shit, Adrian. It’s not funny.”
　　“I’ll be there next week. Mom, look at me. This, right here”—he pointed at her— “is the reason Jack didn’t want to tell you.”
　　His mother stopped breathing into the bag, lowered it, then rained a flurry of slaps on Jack’s chest and arms.
　　“Stop it! Stop it, you crazy woman!” He got up.
　　“You know how I feel about her, Jack. What did MJ tell her?”
　　“You heard MJ. She won’t tell me what she said to Rebecca.”
　　“It must be lies.”
　　“Of course she lied. But I will never know.”
　　“I could kill you right now.” She gasped. “That day at the signing…”
　　Jack’s lips started to curve.
　　“You were texting her.”
　　“Yep. And now she wants nothing to do with me. I’ve tried everything.”
　　“Call her! I’ll talk to her.”
　　“Her security team changed all her numbers. The ones I have, don’t exist anymore.”
　　“Then email her.”
　　“They bounce back.”
　　“Then go to her.”
　　“I don’t know where she lives.” He tried to keep his voice neutral, though recountingthis made him want to flip the desk over. “And the one person I managed to see—her agent, Mervyn—won’t let me anywhere near her to explain. He had me physically removed from the premises before I could even get a single word in. No way can I get him or anyoneelse to listen long enough to tell them that MJ lied. Believe me.”
　　“That’s why you went to Vancouver?”
　　He nodded.
　　His mother shot to her feet, looking resolved. “There’s only one thing to do, then. Weneed to go to MJ. I will strangle it out of her personally.” She marched out of the office.
　　“You see why I didn’t tell her?” he appealed to both Adrian and his dad.
　　“Well, you better go after Mom,” Adrian warned, amusement splayed across his face. “She’ll fucking kill MJ.”
　　His brother disconnected the call. Jack ran after his mother to make sure she wouldn’t end up in jail for first degree murder.
　　MJ was gone. His mother knocked on her door for hours. Yelled her name to come out, spat foul insults until neighbors came out to investigate, congregating in clusters and recording them with cell phones.
　　“She’s not here.” Jack pulled his mother away from her front porch and dragged her back to his SUV.
　　“It’s not fair, Jack.” She started to cry. “I’ll send her an email. Send me her email address.”
　　He considered it, a tiny lightbulb flickering on somewhere deep within. He hadn’t thought of that. Smiling, he said, “Hey, it might just work.”
　　He drove back to his house, the place he’d never taken Rebecca to.
　　The minute they walked inside, his mother started smelling his couches.
　　“Um, what are you doing?”
　　“She’s been here, right?”
　　“Oh, jeez. You’re going to tell someone. I can see it now. No, Mother, she’s never been here, okay?”
　　Walking over to her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “You can’t tell anyone. My face will be plastered all over the papers. Everyone will hate me. Most of all Rebecca. You want me to get killed?”
　　She sighed. “No.”
　　“You can’t tell anyone,” he insisted. “Swear on my life you won’t tell anyone.”
　　“You have my word, I swear.”
　　“Okay. Come here. What’s your email provider? We can log into your account from here. Type out your message and we’ll send it to her.”
　　She looked at the screen and back at him. “I don’t have an email account, Jack.”
　　At that, he sighed. How fucking stupid was he? All he’d had to do was open a dummy email account long ago and emailed Becky from that. She would’ve known the truth of whatever she’d been told by now, if only he’d been clever enough to think of it earlier.
　　“Okay, I’ll help.”
　　Settling down, he created an account for his mother. Once the account was validated, he got up to let her take the chair. She got comfortable and began typing—key by excruciating key.
　　To try and avoid losing his patience, Jack went to lie on his couch where he waited for his mother to finish without hovering over her shoulder.
　　He must have drifted off, because when he woke, the sun was streaming in through the window.
　　He found his mother in front of the computer, tears in her eyes.
　　His eyes looked to the screen. She’d written two words: “Dear Rebecca.”
　　“Nothing?” he asked, confused.
　　“I don’t know what MJ told her. How can I explain anything if I don’t know what she said?” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
　　“Come here,” he said, pulling his mother out of the chair to hug her. “I’m sorry I never brought her around to meet you in private. She really wanted to hang out with you all. I’m an idiot.”
　　“Why didn’t you?”
　　“Because I’m me.” His voice cracked. “Maybe it’s a lost cause.”
　　“Don’t say that, Jack.”
　　“Mom, she doesn’t even read her fan mail personally. Her staff handles it. Anything from a Priestley will more than likely be deleted automatically. Your eloquent words would probably get deleted before she even sees it. I’m so sorry.”
　　“But you were so happy.” She didn’t seem to care anymore that he had been seeing Rebecca. She only cared that he had been happy. He was astonished and touched.
　　“I know it sucks, but that’s life. At least I had it good for a little while.”