Chapter 3
AN: Thanks so much for the reviews and for staying with this story...
Derek stood on the front porch of the Jareau/LaMontange residence. He knew she was in there: Penelope, the love of his life, his destiny. An almost too helpful—and slightly tipsy—Emily Prentiss had spilled the beans and said Penelope was sweetly old fashioned and believed in spending the night away from her fiancé before the wedding.
She'd even winked after telling him, proving to him that he was far more transparent about his feelings than he liked to think he was.
His hands were shaking, and he was breaking a sweat, even though it was even colder now than it had been at eight pm. Derek was usually soundly in control of his nerves, so this wasn't a familiar or pleasant feeling at all. All of what Rossi had said rolled over him, eliciting equal amounts of excitement and fear.
He couldn't wait all night; it was time to face his destiny, no matter what it entailed.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and rapped soundly on JJ's door. He only had to wait a moment before the door was opened.
JJ stood there, one arm holding Henry, the other still holding the doorknob. She didn't say a word; she just stared at him, a suspicious gleam in her eye, like she was debating whether or not to let him in.
He only said one word to her.
"Please."
The suspicious glare remained for a moment as she scoped him out, and then it was replaced by a wry smile, along with a look that had more than a little sympathy attached to it.
She stepped aside. "Come in. Your timing really sucks, Morgan…but come in anyway."
After he entered, he began to unzip his jacket, but stopped when JJ spoke. It didn't matter; he wouldn't have been able to get comfortable anyway.
"She's in the first room at the top of the staircase, right hand side."
"Thank you," he said, turning to head to the stairs.
"Derek."
He glanced back at her.
She smiled. "Don't make me regret this."
It was only then that Derek realized she was on his side, too. As if someone could pick sides in a situation like this.
He grinned back at her hopefully. "I won't."
Penelope sat on the twin bed that would someday be Henry La Montange's, twisting her simple circular diamond ring on her finger. It was strange…she was used to wearing a lot of jewelry, but this one felt heavy and foreign on her finger. It was light, a small diamond, and yet it marked her like a brand.
"I love him," she murmured, looking at her ring, thinking of the day he'd proposed, the happy look on Kevin's face when he'd given it to her.
Cursing herself for being a fool, she stood and paced the room for the twelfth time since she'd retired that night at JJ's house. Kevin loved her; she loved him. They'd be happy together. They'd been happy for over three years running. There was no reason to have cold feet or be pensive now. She was getting what she'd always wanted—a husband, a family to call her own.
Closing her eyes, her thoughts immediately went back to that moment when Derek's lips had touched hers. In all the times that he had kissed her—on her head, her cheek, her hands—he'd never ventured to her lips. Now, the night before her wedding, he'd kissed her there.
It could barely be called a kiss; he'd simply brushed his lips with hers. But in that brief contact, Penelope's world had tipped. Her breath had caught in her throat, her heartbeat had altered, her skin had tingled. She'd felt more alive than she ever had in her entire life.
And she was going to marry another man in fifteen hours.
"I love him," she said, opening her eyes, looking in the mirror above the dresser. "I love him. I'm going to be happy with him. I love him."
She knew she sounded like she was trying to convince herself, and her stomach flipped at the implication of that.
A soft knock on the door gratefully interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," she answered, and then gasped when she saw who it was. "Derek, what are you doing here?"
"Baby Girl, we need to talk."
"Now?" she asked, looking confused. She glanced at the clock, and then back at him. "It's kinda late, Hot Stuff, dontcha think?"
"God, I hope not," he muttered as he shut the door. He took a few steps closer to her, reaching for her hands, before taking a seat on the bed and giving her an encouraging tug to sit next to him.
She'd never seen Derek look that obviously nervous in her life. "Derek…what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he answered quickly, and then he sighed. "Everything."
He squeezed her hand he still held tighter. It was a touch sweaty, a little cold to her touch. She held it between both of hers, trying to offer him some comfort.
"Which one is it, Baby Boy?"
"Penelope…I haven't been honest with you," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "I've always been truthful with you our entire relationship, and tonight…I wasn't."
Her heart started to ache in her chest, and a sinking feeling, one that told her that this would alter her entire life, took hold. "Okay…"
"Penelope, I know you love him, and I know he makes you happy," he uttered, his words coming out quickly. "I was willing to let that be the deciding factor for me, letting that keep me quiet."
He took both of her hands in his now, his thumbs rubbing the backs like he'd done so many times before. She was watching those rhythmic, soothing strokes, trying to keep her pulse in check.
"Baby, I don't want to hurt you for the world."
"I know, D."
She raised her eyes to meet his, and as she locked her gaze with his, she could feel him reaching deep into her soul, further than she'd even dared to delve.
"Penelope…I love you," he whispered fiercely. "I will always love you more than any other man out there."
Her heart completely stopped. She wondered how she could stay seated; she should've fallen over on the floor.
"I told you that you had half my heart…well, that was the lie," he added, squeezing her hands again. "You've had all of it, woman, for nearly as long as I have known you."
"Derek—"
He interrupted. "I know my timing is for shit, and I should've worked up the courage to say something a long time before this."
She tugged her hands out of his to wipe the tears rolling down her face. "You're telling me," she quipped, unable to keep out the sarcasm in her voice.
"I'm so sorry," he said, the passion and anguish written clearly on his face echoing what she felt perfectly. "I don't want to hurt you; I don't want to ruin the best friendship I have ever had in my life...but I had to tell you. I hope you understand."
She couldn't say a word, she was in such shock. She tried to say something, but she couldn't. Her heart pounded, her chest ached, and her mind whirled with a thousand thoughts and feelings.
They sat, side by side, saying nothing, before he sighed heavily, hung his head, and then stood.
"I said it...if only once." His dark eyes were shiny wet; oddly, she recalled that she'd never seen him cry before. He looked away and murmured huskily, "I thought that you deserved to know."
He took a step toward the door.
"Oh no, you don't, Derek Morgan!" she cried, the fire in her belly bursting forward. "You had your say, mister! Now it's my turn."
