He was going to fix things. By the time the car pulled up outside his office, Cal already had a plan. It wouldn't be easy, but he was secure in his belief that it was possible. First, travel arrangements had to be made. Rose would forgive him, eventually. It was something he had to tell himself, though he didn't quite believe it. Still, he was making progress, and no matter what, Rose needed to be gotten away from his scheming cousin and her lover.
And of course, they would have to be dealt with. The police would be involved, certainly, but Cal intended to handle things his own way before they were informed. It was only right, after what they'd done. He left a message for Diana, asking her to meet him that afternoon. Robert, he was informed, wasn't at the office.
But Nathan was. In fact, he was waiting behind Cal's desk.
"There you are," he said, an impatient edge in his voice. "So good of you to finally join us."
Cal's look was strained. "What are you doing here?"
"Is that any way to great your father?" Nathan asked. "You'd almost think I didn't belong here. Have I been exiled but not informed?"
"No, of course not," Cal replied. "I'm just surprised to see you."
"Well, I could say the same for you since you've been neglecting things so much lately."
"If you're referring to-"
"I'm aware you were ill," Nathan said. "I was there, in case you've forgotten. I was also dismissed, in case you've forgotten that. You've clearly recovered, and I see no reason why you haven't taken hold of things again."
"I've been doing that."
"Is that what you call it?" Nathan scoffed.
Cal sighed quietly. "Yes, that's what I've been doing," he said. "I've hardly seen my wife-"
"Oh, let's not have any talk about her, please. I've heard quite enough from your cousins. And you," Nathan added.
"My cousins? What are you talking about? When did you talk to them?"
"Perhaps if you stayed in touch with the family, you'd know these things," Nathan said. "I've had some disturbing reports from Diana, and they were echoed by Frank. He's doing a fine job in New York, much better than I ever expected, and they both claim you haven't been doing your share. Or much of anything at all lately."
"That's not true," Cal said, aghast. "Anything Diana says-"
"I have no reason to doubt her. Why would I?"
"Because she's lying," Cal snapped. "And this is exactly what she wants."
Nathan's eyes narrowed. "I don't care for your tone, or your recent behavior."
There was a time when this would've frightened Cal into submission, but not anymore. "I'm not sure I care what you think," he said, drawing himself up to his full height. He towered over the desk. For the first time, he noticed how small his father had become, the menacing figure of his youth reduced to human-sized with age. "If you can't see when you're being manipulated, if you're choosing them over your own son-"
"Unfortunately, that appears to be exactly what I have to do," Nathan said.
"You don't mean-"
Nathan nodded. "I do."
Cal laughed incredulously. "You're giving my position, my business, my work to him? To Frank? To a man you've never considered anything more than second-rate? Because you don't like my wife, and because he and his sister told you to?" Cal's eyes burned. "Just like that?"
Nathan kept his expression masklike. "I've put a great deal of thought into this. It's not a decision I made lightly. Your performance has been suffering for months, nearly a year, before your illness. Did you think I wouldn't notice? I hoped you'd pull yourself together, but when you married her..." His face twisted in disgust, in spite of himself. "I should've known you'd do something like this again."
Cal let his breath out slowly. His hands trembled. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't actually losing everything, all at once.
But there was no denying it. His father wouldn't change his mind. He knew that all too well.
"Goodbye then," Cal said.
"Caledon, be reasonable-"
"No," Cal said. "This is how you want it." And with that, he turned and left.
...
"What brings you here?" Rose asked. "Cal isn't home. He's on his way to the office. He's probably there already, actually." He wore an odd expression; his eyes were fixed on her. She didn't know why, but an eerie feeling crept over her, and she almost wished Cal were there. She wasn't sure about much where he was concerned anymore, but one thing she did know, Cal would never tolerate Robert staring at her that way.
"That's unfortunate," Robert said impassively. "But it's just as well."
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "I came to see him, but this involves you too."
Rose kept her voice even. "What do you mean?" He moved toward her, and she fought the urge to step back. Something wasn't right. The feeling was growing stronger. Jack took her hand. "It's alright, Rose," he said.
"He hasn't told you?" Robert said. "No, I guess he wouldn't. Why should you know? Why should anyone? In a way, it's for the better. For us, that is."
Suddenly, Rose understood. "It's you," she said. "You've been helping Diana."
Robert grinned. "So you do know."
"Of course I know," she replied haughtily.
He was right in front of her now. She wanted to move but couldn't. She refused to let him see she was afraid. Her heart pounded. "Then you also know I can't allow either of you to use that information," Robert said. He tilted his head. "I've wondered, though, how did you figure out he was sick? How did you even get here? We did everything to keep you away."
"Clearly not," Rose said coldly.
Robert chuckled. "No, I guess not. If he'd just died, if you'd just let him die, this would all be so much simpler," he said somberly. "We didn't care about you."
"Oh, really?"
Rose couldn't believe her ears. Was that her voice, so confident and self-assured? Was any of this really happening? Cal, where are you? she wondered. Her throat tightened as she realized he might not be anywhere, at all. The worst could've already happened. But no, she would've felt it. Surely, she would've sensed he was in danger.
"We wanted you out of the way," he said. "It was only after he married you that you became a real problem." He reached out and touched her hair. Instinctively, Rose slapped his hand away. He raised an eyebrow. "I knew you were interesting the night we met," he said, a sliver of admiration in his voice. "We could work something out."
"Get away from me," Rose spat.
...
Cal didn't know where he was going. He couldn't focus; thoughts swirled through his head. What was happening? How could his father do this? After everything he'd done for him? He'd played the part so well, perfectly really, for so long. What more did his father want?
Cal fumed silently, completely oblivious to his surroundings. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. He deserved that position. He deserved to inherit. He knew this turn of events was connected to the plot to kill him. It had to be; there was just no other way. Diana was behind it, but she couldn't be working alone. She was smart, but there was no clear path from Frank's ascension to her. Unless, perhaps, she intended to benefit by association. That was certainly possible.
Cal might've walked all day, but a sudden wave of unease stopped him. He looked around for its cause; there was nothing, save an ordinary, busy street. He shrugged away the feeling, but as he started moving again, it came back, stronger this time.
His palms began to sweat; his stomach knotted, and a cold fear washed over him. His heart beat faster. What was going on? He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe slowly. That's when it came to him.
Rose.
...
"I can see why Cal likes you so much," Robert said. "You've got spirit." Grinning, he moved closer. "Among other things."
"Stay away from me. I mean it!"
If Rose hadn't witnessed what happened next, she wouldn't have believed it. Robert reached out for her; she tensed, preparing to slap his hand away, but before she could, something-or more accurately, she would realize, someone-threw him back against the wall. The force knocked the wind out of him. Robert gasped in pain and shock. He slumped down, struggling for breath. What just happened? Rose couldn't have done it; she didn't have that kind of strength.
Rose's eyes widened; she gasped, one hand over her mouth, as Jack came into focus. His back was to her, but she could tell he was the same. He was exactly the same as the last time she saw him, only now he was warm and dry. But that couldn't be. He couldn't be in the same clothes. He couldn't still be that young. Eight years had gone by.
And of course, there was the matter of his death, but at that moment, it seemed somewhat uncertain.
Robert gaped at him. "Who are you?" he sputtered. "How did you get in here?" Jack didn't respond; he just stared down at him. Robert reached out to pull himself up. Without seeming to move, Jack held him by the throat. He lifted him to his feet. Robert blinked, stunned by this sudden turn of events.
Rose's voice was small. "Jack?" He looked over his shoulder. A smile came to his lips, unbidden. "Rose," he said.
Robert attempted to wriggle free. Jack tightened his grip. He turned back to him, his blue eyes stony. "What did you think you were doing?" Jack demanded. Anger coursed through him. He'd known something was wrong; he'd known there was a plot. If he'd tried, he could've unraveled it long ago. Why hadn't he? Because he wanted Cal to make an effort to save his own life? What about Rose? Did he have the right to risk hers?
But he wasn't, not really. He was there, watching over her. She was safe.
Jack smacked Robert's head against the wall. It was so easy. He had strength now he'd never dreamed of in life. Holding the other man off the floor was like holding a doll. It was a bit overwhelming, but also, exhilarating. Intoxicating, some might say. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, Jack wondered if this was how Cal had felt all those years ago. Was this what drove his behavior?
Rose's hand on his arm brought him back to reality. "Don't hurt him, Jack," she said. The words "Why not?" were on the tip of his tongue, but one look at her banished them. "Do you have something to tie him up with?" he asked.
She nodded. "I can get something."
"You'll hafta call someone," he said.
"I know."
Neither one of them moved. "You'll-you'll still be here when I get back?" she asked.
"I'll be here," Jack replied.
...
Jack tied Robert to a chair with scarves. Rose looked on from the next room, silently. Finally, he turned and came toward her. Without thinking, she held out her hands. He took them. Rose couldn't move, couldn't speak; he was solid and warm; he was alive, so impossibly real and alive.
She didn't know Jack felt himself fading even as he stood there. The energy it took to remain was enourmous, and it burned through him, leaving behind the warmth Rose mistook for life. "Did you call the police?" he asked.
"No. Not yet."
"You should," he said. "And..." And Cal, he meant to say. He couldn't bring himself to utter the words, to tell her to ask his rival back. It didn't matter that Cal wasn't really his rival. How could he be? How could a live man and a dead one compete? With every breath he took, Cal won all over again, and he didn't even realize it.
"Just let me look at you," Rose said. She put a hand against his cheek. Her thumb brushed his mouth, and he kissed it. A shiver went down her spine. "C'mere," he whispered, pulling her close.
She sank into his arms. "How did you get here?"
"I've always been here, Rose."
"No..." she said, shaking her head.
"Yes."
"But you're-"
"I'm not," Jack said gently. He tilted her head back and kissed her. "I shouldn't be here like this," he murmured between kisses.
"But you are. You can be," Rose insisted. She held fast to him. "Jack, don't leave me."
"Rose, I'll never leave you. Not really," he promised. "I never have." He brushed his fingers through her curls. "I've been with you every day. Watched you. Kept you safe."
Tears stung her eyes. "You know that's not what I mean." She twisted his shirt in her hands. "The way you are now...You're..."
"I wish I was." He kissed her again. "I wish I could hold you and touch you and you could hear me." He pressed her against him as tightly as he could. "I have to go," he whispered in her ear.
"No! Jack, no, don't."
"Yes, Rose." He looked into her eyes. "It's not the way I want it. Believe me. If I could change it-" He sighed; weariness settled over him. "I've stayed too long," he said. "I was never supposed to do this."
"Why did you?"
"I had to protect you," Jack said.
"I was fine," Rose insisted. "I could've taken care of myself."
"But you didn't have to."
He was getting harder to hold onto. Rose watched as he slowly began to disappear. "I love you," she said weakly.
He smiled, and some of his solidity returned. It was taking strength he didn't have anymore, but somehow, he found it. "I love you, Rose," he said. "I'm not leaving you. I'll always be here; I promise." He paused. What came next was painful, excruciatingly so. He didn't want to say it, though he knew he had to. It was time. He'd been avoiding this for so long, but he couldn't anymore. "I have to go," he said slowly. "In a different way than before. I've held on so much, but you're not alone anymore, and I don't belong in your life. Not even on the edge of it," he went on. "I've been selfish, Rose. I wanted you back. I wanted you to myself. Even after I knew Cal was the right man, I-"
"Jack-"
"Rose, please," he said. "Please try to understand. I never wanted to hurt you. You belong with him. He can love you in a way I can't, ways I never can again, maybe that I couldnt've even if we'd had more of a chance. I know you'll be alright," he said. "You'll be happy, and that's all I want."
"You know what he did," Rose said. "He lied to me. He betrayed me."
"Yeah, I know, but I also know how much he loves you. Rose, I've seen it. I've seen into his heart. What he feels for you, it's so strong and so different from anything I would've expected, but it's real. You can trust it. You know you can. Talk to him."
"I can't believe you're telling me this," she said.
Jack chuckled. "Neither can I. Life's funny. Or maybe I should say death."
"Jack, don't," she pleaded.
"I'm sorry."
He was starting to vanish again. He kissed her one last time. "I'll always be there," he said. Before she could reply, he was gone, blown away like a cloud of smoke and leaving nothing to show he'd ever been there. Just like in life, she couldn't help thinking.
...
Rose didn't know how much time passed before she heard the front door open and slam shut. Someone ran through the foyer and down the hall. "Rose?" Cal's voice echoed in the silent house. The staff, who up to this point had remained occupied and rather oblivious-willingly so-peeked out, curious to see what was happening.
"Rose?" He strode into the room. "Are you alright? I've been worried-sick with worry, actually," he said. "I don't know why, but suddenly I had this feeling you-" He looked into her face, and forgetting everything else, took her face in his hands. "Liebling, what happened? What's wrong? Tell me." Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Robert. "What's he doing here? Did he hurt you?"
"No," Rose managed to whisper. Her throat was tight.
"You-you tied him up?" Cal said, incredulous.
"Jack did."
"What?" he said. He looked around, expecting to find Jack waiting with a remark about his inadequacy, but he wasn't there.
"He's gone," Rose said. "He was here, but he's gone now."
Cal understood, without being told, that Jack was truly gone. He took a breath, unprepared for the feeling of loss this realization brought. Jack was gone? Forever? No more arguments or conversations, no more bits of insight or advice? It was like losing a best friend he hadn't known he had or even wanted.
"You saw him?" he asked.
"He was almost alive," she said. "I could've believed...He came to protect me," she added.
"I'm not surprised."
"Why did you come back so suddenly?" she said. "Why did you burst in like that? After last night-"
"I had to," Cal explained. "I was buried in myself, in my own anger and hurt over-over nothing that matters, and I felt you. I felt fear and you needing me," he said. "I had to get back to you."
"You don't get feelings like that."
"I do now," he said, understanding as he did so, that it was Jack's sense, Jack's connection to her that he'd tapped into. And now it was his as well, a parting gift from a man he owed everything, and from whom he deserved nothing.