Maggie-

I clutch the envelope tight in my fist, afraid if I loosen my grip it will all become a dream and my father will still be dead.

The envelope itself is slightly banged up but no more than a letter that was sent a week ago. There's no yellowing or any signs that it is over a decade old and the envelope itself hasn't even been opened. Maybe my mother hasn't even seen it.

Jack stands like a statue, unsure of what to do next but he watches my face like a hawk, ready to wrap me in his arms if at the first sign of panic. My legs feel weak and it feels as if the oxygen was sucked out of the room but I'm still, completely unmoving as I attempt to calculate my next move.

Do I confront my mother or steal the envelope? Surely she wouldn't lie to me now that I have proof. Has she been lying to me this entire time or has she just now found out he's alive and he tricked us both?

So many different scenarios are flying through my head and I can't seem to concentrate on just one possibility. One thing is for sure, I have to speak to my mother. I need answers.

My eyes make contact with Jack's and I realize he's been carefully watching my face go through all of these emotions. I'm surprised myself that I haven't broken down in tears, that would be my usual reaction.  Instead, I'm leaning against the counter in shock, with no tears to be found.

I start to deny the possibility of my father actually being the one who wrote this letter. I'm sure it's possible that there are plenty of other William Carpenters in the world, but how many of them are living in Prescott, Arizona?

I've been to Prescott once before, I'm almost sure. I close my eyes tight desperately trying to dig up a faint memory of being there with my father. I remember it's a very wooded area with tall trees and water- I remember water.  Maybe a lake?

I've hidden most memories of my father so deep inside my brain that it's impossible to bring them to light again. I suppose in certain situations it's a fantastic defense mechanism but not when you need those memories back.

Before I can dig deeper into my memories I feel Jackson's hands on my arms and it wakes me from my daydreaming.

"Maggie, are you okay?" He asks concern written all over his face.

"Yes, yes I'm okay. I need to talk to my mom." I say as I start to move but Jackson grips my arm and yanks me back against the counter.

"What's going on Maggie? You're not upset? You're usually so in touch with your emotions, this is off."

"Jack, if anything I'm in shock and I don't want to get my hopes up until I talk to my mother. What if it's some other William Carpenter or just an old letter?  It doesn't look like an old letter but-"

He grabs my face and makes my eyes meet his, "Okay. I was just worried you weren't processing any of this. Let's go talk to your mom." He says as he takes my hand.  With his touch, I once again feel I can conquer anything.

When we enter the dining room my mother's smug face is about to make another insulting joke until she notices the envelope in my hand. Her face falls into a frown and she quietly eyes me over, deciding what to say.

Silence.

The whole room is so silent I could literally hear a pin drop. If she's not going to say anything I will.

"What's this?" I ask as I lift the envelope.

"That's an old letter from your father dear." She says sadly. I think I've seen this emotion cross her face once before when I was younger, but I don't recall seeing it often. She's a tough woman and she doesn't break easily.

"It doesn't look old, and it's unopened." I challenge.

"That is because I never opened it." She says smugly as she gets up from the table. I'm tired of playing these games with her so I just want to come out and ask.

"Is he alive?" I ask but she doesn't respond as she walks around the table. "Mom, is he alive?" I practically yell at her and she snatches the envelope from me.

"No Maggie, of course not. Your father has been dead for years. I never opened this letter because it was too painful. I kept it safe, stored away neatly, where one day I might open it, but not tonight." She says sternly and starts walking into the kitchen.

Jack still holds my hand and I'm reminded when he gives me a reassuring squeeze. I pull him with me as I follow my mother into the kitchen. "Why is it out now?" I yell after her.

"I missed him one night and after a few glasses of wine I decided to pull it out, not that it's any of your business young lady." She says with a puff of attitude as she begins doing a few dishes.

"I don't believe you." I say as I finally feel a few tears well up in my eyes.

"Maggie you went to his funeral, don't you remember?" She asks in an uncharacteristically vicious tone.

I think back trying to remember a funeral, but I don't. I hardly have any memories of my father besides the few that are revealed to me in my nightmares.

"No." I answer through a whisper. "I don't remember anything about him."

"I know you despise me, but honestly, do you really think I would lie to you about your father being dead?" She asks a little softer now.

It sounds absolutely absurd that she would lie to her own daughter about her father passing away, but I've got a gut feeling that she isn't being honest. Realistically, I wouldn't exactly put it passed her.

I look into her eyes to gauge her sincerity but even though I'm doubting her deep down in my core, I look to the floor and nod my head no.

"No, I don't think it would be possible for anyone to be that cruel." I say then bring my eyes to her face to gauge her reaction to my words.

Her eyes widened for a split second but then correct themselves.  Although it's only for a split second, it's enough for me to be sure she's lying.

"Sorry mom, I shouldn't have doubted you." I apologize in the most sincere way I can manage, then give her a quick but convincing hug. "I just really miss him and I hoped- Well, you know what I hoped."

Jackson's face turns to a frown and I know he feels sorry for me, but he has no clue that I suspect her of lying. I know that coaxing this information out of her will be impossible so I'll have to be stealthy.

I'm sure anyone who knows me realizes stealth and Maggie Carpenter don't exactly mix well. The bruises I acquire almost weekly account for my clumsiness but I think if I apply a little cunning, I'll be able to find answers. Realizing that arguing with my mother any further is pointless, I decide we should make our way to the exit.

"We should be going, but thank you for a lovely dinner." I smile and attempt to rely on what acting skills I have as I start pulling Jackson towards the door as inconspicuous as I can.

My mother gives us a wave and Jackson gives her a thank you for the delicious meal and we're out of there before I completely lose my mind and the evening is saved from disaster.

The moment we enter the car Jackson pushes to start and dials on the heat. We're silent through most of the ride home and Jackson seems to be waiting for me to break the silence, which is nice because so many thoughts are running through my mind.

I can't believe the night Jack meets my mother for the first time, is the night we have my life's most dramatic secret revealed.

I wish I could have given him more warning about her. Well, at least I sort of warned him in the beginning of our relationship. I doubt he remembers but when I described my mother to him, I said she was like Monica's mom from Friends and that should have been warning enough.

We quietly take the elevator to his penthouse and he unlocks the door to let us in. I walk into the living room without even kicking off my shoes and head for the large ceiling to floor window that covers the entire wall. I wait for Jack to join me as I look out at the beautiful city skyscrapers that bring light into the living room without having to turn on a switch.

I hear Jack's footsteps approaching so I turn quickly to face him.

"She's lying." I say just above a whisper before he can even reach to turn the lights on.

"What?" Jack says in shock and he changes his route to walk to me instead.

"She's lying to me, I saw it in her eyes." I state point and fact.

"I heard you Maggie, but you said it yourself, that would be so sick for someone to lie about."  He's so quick to defend my mother, yet he was the one in the beginning of our relationship to admit how messed up people can be.

"Jack please just trust me, I know her and I know what she's capable of." I plead.

"What is going on with you? You told her that you didn't think she would do that." He asks with a worried look plastered on his face.

"I lied." I say plainly, gauging Jack's reaction.

"You lied." He says in disbelief as he crosses his arms and gives me a snarky grin. "Miss honesty is key to a successful relationship, lied?"

"Hey, that hasn't changed between us but my mother is a different story." I reply sternly to remind him that I don't tolerate liars but my exterior cracks as I begin to plead with him to believe me. "Jack, she's lying to me."

"Okay baby, say she is lying, what are you going to do about it tonight?" He asks and reaches out to me.

I take a breath and close my eyes. There's nothing I can do about it, at least not tonight. I hear Jackson's phone go off in his pocket but he presses the ignore button through the fabric without even casting it a glance.

"Come here." He says in a deep voice that sends a chill through my body. He grabs my waist and pulls me flush against him. His phone goes off again so this time he lifts it from his pocket turns it off and tosses it across the wood floor. His attention is focused solely on me.

"I love you." His hot breath tickles my ear as he whispers my heart skips a beat.

It feels like we've come so far since we met. He was an asshole, well he's still an asshole, but he's my asshole. He was afraid of showing his feelings or falling in love, always afraid everyone was out to get him, but he let me in. He opened his heart to me and let me take care of him, the way he takes care of me.

My life this time last year was filled with waiting tables and living with my nose in a book.  They say you know you've found the one when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

The same goes for books, all the romance novels in the world couldn't compare to this incredible man I have in front of me. To hear him whisper those three little words now, makes my heart speed up and my breath hitch.

My body reacts to his every touch, teasingly leaving a trail of goosebumps as his fingers skillfully explore my skin. They trace from my neck down my arms and to the palm of my hand, tenderly flipping it over and bringing my wrist to his full lips. 

He places a gentle kiss in my open palm, causing an electric current to surge through my veins and a warm tingling sensation to start just below my belly.

Jackson does the same with my left palm then locks both of my wrists in just one of his large hands, he lifts them just above my head and presses me against the large glass window that looks out to the city.

His face is merely an inch from mine, tempting me to kiss him, taste him. He's close enough to feel the heat from his breath on my parted lips. His diamond eyes pierce into mine as we dare each other to make a move.

I inhale the sultry aroma of his cologne which awakens every fiber of my being.  This teasing game we're playing fills me to the brink with need and I bite my bottom lip in an attempt to control my breathing.

The sight drives over the edge and his mouth comes crashing into mine. Our tongues slide in a tantalizing dance which tastes of mint and metal, my favorite flavor.

I feel his erection pressed hard between my legs and the growing heat rises in me where just a few sheer pieces of fabric separate us. One of his hands keeps my wrists placed firmly above my head and the other proceeds to slide under my dress.

My heart climbs into my throat as his nimble fingers tease the lining of my underwear.  Instinctually, I wrap my leg around his waist pulling him closer and allowing him easier access. My fingers thread through his soft chocolate hair and I pull his head closer, suddenly craving more of him.

Jackson continues teasing my senses as long as he can, but when I start tugging his hair he can no longer hold back. His skilled fingers slide beneath my underwear, causing him to groan as he finds me warm and ready.

His hand fumbles frantically with his belt and with I desperately attempt to help. In seconds his trousers have fallen to the floor and I'm lifted into the air, with my back pressed into the chilled glass window I feel him enter me.

I let out a gasp and his breath hitches in response to my body adjusting around him. The sound of his ragged breathing in my ear alone almost brings me to the edge.

Jack plunges into me time and time again and each time the volume of my moans rise and the sensations intensify. His mouth moves from mine and trails sensual kisses down my neck meandering to my breasts which he easily slips over the top of my bra and dress.

My body writhes with desire as he shows affection to my breasts heat reflecting off his body to mine and with each thrust, I feel myself growing closer to ecstasy.

He knows I'm on edge when my legs begin to clamp tightly around him so he drives himself deeper.  My nails dig into his back, attempting to grasp onto him as my back arches against the steamed glass and I feel the delectable sensation of release and we come undone together.

Gasping for air we slide to the cold wood floor and I collapse onto his chest. I'm unable to move as my body vibrates with an intense calm.  My limbs feel like jello and we lie on the wood floor which promises to cool our overheated bodies.

"I love you." I whisper as he combs his fingers through my sweat-soaked hair.