He was still having difficulty breathing due to the sobs that he had been struggling to hold back. He leant back against the shelves, and brought his head up to look down at her, this beautiful woman who he loved, who he would do anything for. Even leave. If that was what she wanted, he would do that for her, out of love. She squeezed his hand and didn't break his gaze, and in that moment he truly understood. He knew this decision to abandon their relationship wasn't down to Connie's feelings for him. He had known that but it wasn't until now that he had really realised that she was doing this also out of love. Love for Grace. She hadn't had a choice. Cal had told him about what happened that dreadful winter, and now he could understand why what had happened, between her and him, did. She was crying now, too. The tears, he watched them trace the skin under her eyes, until they stopped on the highs of her cheekbones before they tipped, and rolled gently down her cheeks. Even when she cried, she was beautiful.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, and let go of his hand to brush away her tears. He took it back, held it in his and laced their fingers together. Using his other hand, he gently caressed her face, as if mapping her out, freckle by freckle. She hated them, but they were just another thing he loved. His fingers shook a little, but with Connie so close, he began to regain some control. She closed her eyes, and Jacob pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up in a protective cage.
And she broke. Her hands went to her face as she cried, and he cradled her, holding her tightly to him and moving one hand to the side of her head. She wanted him and needed him so badly, the fact that she could stand here, crying in his arms, meant more than she could ever say. She would let him support her, the woman who had never wanted to rely on anybody except herself. She would surrender her entire self to him, without fearing the consequences. It didn't mean she was any less strong. It meant she had finally found proper love, honest love. He stroked her hair and kissed her head shakily, but still with pressure and tenderness. Connie lowered her head further, beginning to push herself away from him. This was another mistake, she was only making this harder for herself and for him.
"Connie, look at me." She felt a tear drop into her shirt as it rolled down her chin, as it was tilted by strong, gentle fingers. She met his gaze and fresh tears began pricking at her eyes again. Her shoulders heaved and she swallowed, allowing the them to fall. He still had an arm wrapped around her waist, and she ran her hand up his chest, before carefully touching her fingers to his face.
"I love you."
It was a shaky whisper, yet the honesty and vulnerability in her voice filled him with the absolute need to protect her. She had been fighting with herself and her feelings for so long, that she had forgotten how to stop. He would prove to Grace that this relationship was different, he would show her how much he loved her mum, and ask her to give him that opportunity to show that he loved her too.
When he didn't respond, she opened her mouth again, but unformed words were silenced by his lips on hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, and his were around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. He loved how she fit so perfectly between his legs, and how even though he was leaning back against the shelves and she was in her heels, she was still significantly smaller than him. He smiled into her kisses, and tasted the salt of her tears, as he thought of just how much he loved the fact that even Connie Beauchamp was occasionally handicapped by something as ordinary as height. Naturally, it was the source for endless teasing on his part, despite how much she would protest, he took great pleasure in changing the light bulbs and taking her favourite coffee blends from the top shelves in the supermarket. He needed more moments like this, with her and with Grace. And for that to happen, Connie had to know that this didn't mean she was neglecting her daughter, and Grace had to know that her Mum wasn't abandoning her in favour of a relationship that she thought was more important.
He closed another soft kiss before drawing back slightly. She relaxed her arms from around his neck, he took her hands in his, and gently used his thumb to soothe her as she watched him. This man made her feel how she had always wanted to feel. Her entire persona had been created as a cover for how quickly she knew she could fall apart. Inevitably, it had become a natural part of her; the steely glares, cold words and the quick wit which gained her admirers as well as enemies. Of course, Jacob did admire that about her and she enjoyed that, but it was her ability to be her truer self with him which made her fearful of losing him.
He was something she could never find again.
"It isn't fair." Again, it was a whisper, but she laced her fingers together with Jacob's and he knew how much this was hurting her. She felt trapped, and felt guilty for it because she should only be thinking about Grace.
"Connie, we'll talk to her. Not just you, and not just me. I know you're thinking that you can't do this, 'cause this is what she said you can't have, if you want her to stay." He brushed his lips to her forehead, and she closed her eyes. They then flew open, as both of them heard the clunk of the handle and a voice, before they saw Charlie's head peer around the door whilst in conversation with no one in particular.
"...tell Mrs Beauchamp that you're slacking J..." He trailed off, noticing the couple before continuing, with a wry smile on his face.
"I'll take those syringes and go shall I, Jacob?" He winked at Connie, took the plastic box she had filled earlier from a shelf on the left, before leaving, tapping his fingers over the lock on their side of the door, and closing it behind him.