She was having a beautiful dream about Jack, one she didn’t want to wake from. Jack. The familiar sting of tears accompanied a dull ache in her chest. She’d lost him. He was never coming back, never going to hold her or kiss her or… “Good morning, beautiful,” Jack’s deep voice penetrated the pool of misery Abby was drowning in. The events of the past several days come flooding back as she slowly tilted her head back and opened her eyes. Jack’s smile was like a beacon in the night, drawing her to him as if she had no will of her own. She didn’t wait for him to kiss her, the longing inside was too powerful to ignore, the need to prove he was real too strong. Curling her fingers around the back of his neck, Abby’s lips parted as she drew his head down and took what she so desperately needed. For the first time in over two weeks, the numbing pain left her. She had no strength to speak, but she didn’t need words to tell Jack how much she loved him. Jack’s heart tripped when Abby initiated the kiss. It was the first real response he’d gotten from her in the four days since finding her lying so still and lifeless in bed. He pulled her closer, kissing her tenderly, delighting when a soft, muted purr caught in her throat. That first day, he’d let her sleep for several hours before waking her so she could eat another bowl of soup. Over the course of the next few days, he gradually introduced more substantial fare to her diet. She still hadn’t spoken, but he could tell her strength was returning and he’d fallen into a routine of taking Abby out on the deck after meals where he would stretch out on the lounge chair with her in his arms.
