by Odette Stone
Me: Can I have a redo?
Jackson: What’s a redo?
Me: I want to erase the last 24 hours
Jackson: Everything?
I chewed on my lip. I didn’t want to erase how he was so helpful before the party or the way he helped me repot my plant. Nor did I want to erase the way he cared for me when I was barfing my guts out.
Me: Well, not everything
Jackson: What do you want to remember?
Me: It’s more what I want to forget
Jackson: Tell me
Me: Barfing
Jackson: Consider it forgotten. Anything else you want to erase?
Why was my heart racing? I stared at my phone screen.
Me: I want to erase the fight between you and Matt
Jackson: Me too
Me: I also want to erase my stupid meltdown this morning when you were trying to leave
Jackson: Nope. I don’t agree to those terms
Me: What? Why not? That was me at a weak moment
Jackson: I learned something about you
Me: I'm scared to ask what
My hands sweated as I waited for his response. Why did he want to learn about me? I did not understand this man, but I was like a moth drawn to a big flame. I couldn’t help myself. I jumped when my phone dinged.
Jackson: I don’t erase truth or honesty. Anything else you want to erase?
What was he saying? That my meltdown was me being honest? Being truthful? If that was me being real then that was a scary thing, considering what a hot mess I had been this morning. That’s precisely the part of me I wanted to keep hidden from people.
Did I want to erase anything else?
The kiss.
I should tell him that I want to erase the kiss. That should have been on top of the list for things to forget. I should banish that moment from my life, but I couldn’t bring myself to erasing that.
Me: No
Another long pause and then my phone dinged again.
Jackson: Me neither
Chapter 20
I startled when I heard the loft door slide open. I looked up across the room. Matt walked in, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. He looked rough. He paused when he saw the black duffle bag on the floor. Slowly he lifted his head and looked up at me. I leveled him with a look.
He slowly walked to the island, tossed his keys on the granite and slid onto a stool across from me. My heart galloped in my chest. I had so much to say and so many questions to ask. Instead, I just looked at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.
“Look at you like what?”
“Like you hate my guts.”
“I don’t hate your guts.”
“You should.”
“Why should I hate your guts?”
His blue eyes turned and stared at my face. “Because I fooled around with someone last night.”
My mouth dropped open. My heart was a sickening thud in my chest. Blood rushed through my ears. I became aware of how shallow my breath was. I stared at him. “Who?”
“Doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter.”
I brought in air through my nose. “Was it Katherine?”
He stared at me for a long moment. “No, and you need to just to let it go. It didn’t mean anything.”
My entire body felt cold.
I looked around my loft in a daze. I knew something had been wrong between us, but I hadn’t wanted to face it. I had tried to pretend that everything was going to work out.
“I just ordered our wedding invitations,” I said, feeling stupid. I had thought that if we could just get to the other side, we would be fine.
He refused to look at me. “I'm sorry.”
“You're sorry that I ordered the invitations or you’re sorry that you cheated on me?”
“I'm sorry for what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
But he had hurt me.
“Now what?” I stared at him. Would he move out? What about dinner? And Jackson? Pain shot through my heart. If Matt left, there would be no reason for Jackson to stay. I couldn’t process the thought of both Jackson and Matt leaving me alone in this loft. I would not stay here alone. Thoughts were flying through my mind in no particular order.
He looked down at his hands. “Can we just forget it happened and carry on?”
My entire body went still. Then I put both my hands on my forehead and squeezed my eyes shut. I felt relief. Relief that Matt did not want us to break up.
Jackson flashed through my mind. The way he pushed his hands into my hair and pulled me into the most sinful kiss. The feel of his hot breath on my ankle when he took off my shoes. How he allowed me to curl up with him on the couch.
I felt guilty as I looked at Matt. He might have messed around with some stranger, but I have coveted Jackson, flirted with him and developed a stupid crush. Jackson was Matt’s pseudo-brother. What I had done seemed so much worse.
“Em, please. Say something.”
I lifted my head. “What does fool around mean?”
He gave me an incredulous look.
“Did you have sex?”
He shook his head.
“I want specifics.”
“Emily.”
“I need to know the extent of this situation.”
“We kissed. And we messed around.”
“What does that mean?”
“She went down on me.”
My eyes went wide. I had never seen Matt naked. We had never gone below the waist. What he had done was so much worse than what I had done. It was crazy, but as I listened to Matt confessing his sins, it felt like it absolved me from my own.
“Is that it?”
His eyes were on my face. “That’s it.”
I hesitated. “You still want to get married?”
“Yes.”
“Can we have a baby?”
He blinked slowly. “What?”
I licked my lips. “I want a baby within the first year. I want a family.”
“How about you get pregnant within the first two years.”
I crossed my arms. “The first year.”
His eyes narrowed. “And we never speak of this again?”
Would it be this easy? Could I just pretend that Matt hadn’t cheated on me and we would get the wedding back on track? I stared at him. By this time, next year, I could have a baby. Then my family would be complete.
“We’ll never speak of this again.”
We both just sat there. Long moments ticked by.
Finally, he spoke, switching gears. “Is Jackson leaving?”
“Is that what you want?” I looked up.
“No,” he couldn’t meet my gaze. “It may not seem like it, but I don’t want him to leave.”
“He was going to, but your mom showed up.”
Shock crossed his face. “Where are they?”
“Your mom is at her hotel, and I have no clue where Jackson is. But they’re both coming back here for dinner.”
Matt shut his eyes and his face crumpled. “Fuck.”
“What happened between the two of you?”
He shrugged and refused to meet my eyes.
“Why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“It’s water under the bridge.”
“To move forward, you both need to address this.”
He rubbed his face. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t.”
I stared at him for a long time. Why could he not discuss it with me? What had happened between them? Had they committed some crime together and were bound together by some blood pact? I knew that Matt would not budge on the issue.
He stood up, looking stiff and a bit wrecked. “Are we good?”
I nodded.
“Okay, I'm going upstairs to shower.”
I watched as he slowly started to walk upstairs.
“Why do you want to be married to me, Matt?”
H
e glanced over the railing at me. “Because you and I can have a perfect life together. Look at this place. Together we can do it all.”
His answer left me completely cold. There it was. We both were getting married for different reasons. Maybe we didn’t have the fairy tale marriage, but Matt would give me what I wanted. I would get my husband, and together we would create a little family. And in turn, I would give Matt what he wanted. Money. It’s not like we hated each other. Before all this craziness started, we had quite liked each other at one point. He would be a successful lawyer, and I would be a stay-at-home mom. And together, we would each find our version of happiness. Love was messy. With Matt, I was in control. There was no dark jealousy or intense fluttering in my stomach. We were a stable couple together. All those big passionate emotions just de-stabilized everything. Created an imbalance. Marrying Matt was the smart choice. Not everyone could have the perfect love story, but together we could create a happy life together. And right now, that sounded good to me.
I looked around the kitchen. There was no way I could cook tonight. I flipped through our take-out brochures and then decided on Thai food. I called for food and then wiped down an already spotless counter. Why did I feel so bereft? I was going to get what I wanted. I wanted a baby. I wanted a family. Together Matt and I would create our own little perfect family. This is what I needed most in this world. So why did my heart feel so heavy?
Chapter 21
The loft door slid open. Irene walked in, and Jackson followed behind her. Stupid nerves jangled my body the moment I laid eyes on Jackson's big frame. He exuded a solid, unshakable presence that instantly made me feel nervous and safe at the same time. My eyes slid past his direct gaze, and I proceeded to flush hot.
I forced myself to focus on Irene. “How was your afternoon?”
“Decadent,” she smiled. “After a walk with Jackson, I went back to the hotel and had a long nap and a swim in the pool.”
He was watching me. I could feel it.
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” I smiled trying to shut out his presence. I failed to ignore how tall he was, how his baseball cap was pulled so low on his brow, how green his eyes were. I swear his broad shoulders seemed to get bigger every time I saw him. Why was I noticing him again like this? Was it because of the kiss? I needed to get my mind back in the slow lane with this guy.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs and then Matt stood in front of his mom.
“Sweetheart,” she beamed, opening her arms. Matt bent down and gave her a long hug.
Matt straightened and Jackson and him eyeballed each other.
“Want a beer?” Matt asked.
“Sure.”
Matt went to the fridge and cracked open a couple of cans. “Want to go out on the patio?”
“Yup.” Jackson took his proffered beer, and then the two of them walked outside.
“Can I get you a glass of wine?” I asked Irene.
“That would be nice,” she made herself comfortable at the island.
I poured her some wine. “I decided to send out for dinner tonight. It should be here in a bit.”
I looked outside. Jackson and Matt stood facing each other and seemed to be in a serious conversation. Matt looked agitated as he talked, but Jackson had one hand in his pocket and looked relaxed as he listened.
“It’s been like that since they knew each other,” Irene said as she glanced over her shoulder. “Matt talks and Jackson listens.”
“I didn’t realize until recently how integral Jackson has been to your family. Matt never really mentioned him.”
She looked carefully down at her wine. “Jackson was more my husband’s intention. I would never say this to Jackson’s face, but when he came into our family, it came at quite a price to Matt.”
That wasn’t exactly what I had expected her to say. “Jackson shared with me some of his experiences with Ted and how he came to live with you.”
“Jackson never talks about Ted.”
“Well, I don’t want to exaggerate how much he told me, I'm just trying to figure out what happened.”
"I have known Jackson since he was a little boy and not once have we been allowed to talk about Ted. Not once.”
I was pretty sure she was exaggerating. “Can you tell me how Jackson came to be part of your life?”
“You know that Matt’s dad was a police officer, right?”
I nodded.
“We lived in a small town. Ted was the town drunk. Harry was called to deal with Ted on a regular basis for various reasons, most of them not good. Typically they just stuck Ted in a drunk tank. But that left them with a small child on their hands.”
“Jackson.”
She nodded. “Night after night, this little kid would sleep in the police waiting room. In the morning, my husband would drive Jackson to school. Harry couldn’t take it. One night, he showed up at our house, with Jackson in tow.”
“Oh wow.”
“Jackson was trembling and dirty. I have never seen a more malnourished looking child in my life. You would think he'd have been grateful. We offered him food and a warm bed and yet he just fought us. You would think that our home and our generosity would have been preferable to a police station waiting room, but he didn’t want to be with us.”
“He wanted to be with Ted.”
She raised one eyebrow. “That he did.”
I stole a glance at the patio. As if he could sense me Jackson turned his head and looked at me. I dropped my glance.
“What happened?”
“Ted kept getting drunk. My husband kept bringing Jackson home. And it was like that every single time. The only thing Jackson asked for was to be brought back to Ted. He never cried. He fought. He fought that separation tooth and nail. At age seven, he had more fight in him than two grown men. Harry and I were just trying to be charitable. Then one night, it was like he realized that even if he stayed over, he'd still return to Ted. Harry dropped him off. He walked past me, climbed into his bunk bed and was asleep within two minutes.”
I swallowed my pain. My heart ached for that little boy. The little boy that knew only violence and suffering at the hands of the one person he should've been able to trust. And even when they removed him from all that heartache, he just wanted to go back to it.
“What happened to Jackson’s real father?”
She shrugged. “Who knows. His mother was quite trashy, and when she died, Ted was the only one left. Ted was his legal guardian.”
I tried to phrase my question with tact. “Did anyone think about calling social services?”
“We lived in a small town. Our options were to report Ted and have Jackson shipped off to some foster home in the city. Harry was scared Jackson would get lost in the system.” She lifted her shoulder. “We had unofficial custody of Jackson more than half the time. My husband checked up on them frequently.”
I could not wrap my mind around the idea that letting a young child face physical abuse had been an option at all.
She saw the look in my eyes. “We did what we could. You should know that. Every time Jackson landed in the hospital, we took him to our house. We tried to adopt Jackson unofficially. He had his own dresser, his own toys, his own clothes. He even had a placemat at our table with his name on it. But once his wounds healed, he started asking to go back to Ted. No amount of convincing could get him to relent. Harry would haul Ted into the station and read him the riot act, and Ted would promise to behave, and the entire cycle would start over. Jackson wanted to go back there. We didn’t make him. He asked.”
That sounded like a terrible reason to let him go back. I didn’t want to say anything, but I questioned their judgment on that one.
Her eyes blinked without emotion. “You don’t know Jackson as I do. He has this fierce loyalty. We tried to get Jackson to talk about Ted and some of the accidents that seemed to happen, but Jackson only protected him. Ted was completely off topic. He has been for all these years. He’s never once let us talk about Ted.
Not once.”
“He didn’t want Ted to be alone.” I murmured to myself. My eyes strayed to Jackson, who laughed at something Matt had just said. He looked relaxed as he leaned back against the railing with a beer casually slung in his hand. His plain navy t-shirt stretched over his hard chest.
“So that’s why I find it hard to believe that Jackson would talk about Ted with you,” Irene watched my face.
Had Jackson openly talked about Ted with me? Perhaps I had been overly nosy and disrespectful of his boundaries?
“Where is Ted now?”
“Ted fell in the drunk tank and hit his head. He died six days before Jackson’s 16th birthday.”
I watched as Matt talked grandly, gesturing big. He had Jackson’s full attention. Jackson rewarded him with another laugh, making me marvel at his beautiful smile. “When they hang out they seem to get along. As children did they get along?”
“They got along, but as I said before, I think the situation was very hard for Matt. My husband and I fought about that. I saw changes in Matt. I knew he felt threatened and that broke my heart. But Harry insisted that Matt needed to learn that love wasn’t exclusive. But growing up in this unconventional situation took its toll on Matt.”
My eyes widened in disbelief. Why was she worried about Matt? What about Jackson who was orphaned and frequently hospitalized by the violent drunk? What about the people whose job it was to protect children like Jackson? Why had they looked the other way? My stomach tightened in anger.
“Is that where this animosity started?”
She shook her head. “It started at Harry’s funeral. The casket lowered into the ground, and we stood there in prayer. Suddenly, Matt was on top of Jackson. They were rolling around and throwing punches.”
My lips parted in shock.
She shook her head. “It took five men to break up that fight. One man to restrain Matt. It took the other four men to hold Jackson back. I thought Jackson was going to kill Matt. It was so horrible. And embarrassing. Jackson took off. Neither Matt nor I heard from him for two years after that.”
“What was the fight about?”
“Neither one of them will tell me.”
We sat there in silence, lost in our thoughts. She began again. “Matt has expressed that he wants to mend this rift. I only hope that Jackson is man enough to let that happen.”
