How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days

by Peel, Jennifer

  I held Miss Liliana’s hand for the remainder of our silent drive. I ached for her, Jackson, their whole family.

  Miss Liliana directed me where to park. The early hour allowed us a spot close to the entrance. Miss Liliana looked done for and I considered asking her if she would like me to get a wheelchair, but I knew what a slight that would be to her. Instead, I helped her and we walked slowly, though every part of me wanted to sprint. We took the elevator to our specified floor. Upon our exit, she held me back. “He doesn’t look good, darling. Don’t be alarmed.” She sniffled into her tissue.

  I assumed she meant her son. How heartbroken she must be. All I could do was hug her.

  She patted my back. “We’re wasting time and it’s a precious thing.”

  We held hands down the hall. The smell of antiseptic tickled my nose. Like the highway, the hospital was quiet, not even the nurses at the station said a word to us as we walked by. The Montgomery’s held clout in this town, and they probably knew better than to ask where we were headed. Mr. Montgomery’s private room was at the end of the hall. When we arrived at our destination, my nerves flared up. I took a deep breath.

  “You go in without me. Jackson needs you all to himself.”

  “What if he’s unhappy I’m here?”

  She touched my cheek. “Impossible. I don’t want to see you two until you’re ready to set a date.”

  “Miss Liliana.”

  “I’m serious. Like I said, time is a precious gift and I will not see any more wasted.” She stood up as tall as she could and marched away. To where, I have no idea. But that was one lady who could take care of herself.

  I turned back toward the large door. I breathed in and out deeply before opening it a crack. I wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side. There were two men in there, one who hated me and I hoped one who loved me as much as I loved him. The room was still. The only hint of life was the beeping of machines. I caught a glimpse of both men. Mr. Montgomery was attached to all sorts of medical devices and unconscious; I wasn’t sure if he was sedated or sleeping.

  Jackson, my Jackson, was sitting by his father’s bedside, bent over, holding his dad’s hand between his own. He looked as if he was praying. He didn’t stir as I approached. He probably thought I was medical personnel. Or perhaps he was sleeping. Either way, I hated to disturb him. I stealthily took the seat next to him. I took one second to take him in before I reached over and placed my hand on top of his. His head popped up and he turned toward me. A smile and tears erupted. I followed suit. He said nothing. He placed his father’s hand gently on his bed before standing up and pulling me out of my chair into an embrace.

  I easily fell into him and held him as fiercely as he held me. He bathed my hair in his tears and I wetted his shoulder with mine.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered over and over.

  “Please don’t apologize. Just tell me what you need from me.”

  He cupped my face in his hands. “Only you.” He pressed his lips against mine.

  I sank into it. I had missed this, him.

  He released me only to take my hand and lead us to the small couch in the room. He sat down and pulled me onto his lap. I immediately curled into him. His hold was firm and reassuring. He kept rubbing my arms and kissing my head. “Who told you I was here?”

  “Who do you think?”

  “I’ll have to thank her.”

  “You could have told me.” I looked at his father’s ailing body. He looked like he had aged fifty years since I last saw him. His skin was sallow and he looked so thin.

  “I wanted to, but I promised Daddy I wouldn’t. We all did. Hell, he tried to keep it from us. He was afraid it would ruin his career if anyone caught wind of it. The board was already trying to push him out. They wanted fresh blood. I finally convinced him to bow out gracefully and retire early. His body was demanding it.”

  “How long has he been sick?”

  “Only he knows, but I found out in June by accident. I guess he was getting lazy living alone and he hadn’t flushed his toilet. It was filled with blood.”

  “He didn’t get treatment?”

  “Supposedly he was on a wait and see treatment; they put him on hormone suppressors and watched, but who knows if he was going in regularly reporting his symptoms before I found out. He won’t say. He’s as stubborn and prideful as he’s always been. I’ve been forcing him to appointments and to take his medication. I moved in with him so I could monitor him, and recently he’s started falling. He wasn’t happy to have my company, but he’s been fading fast. The cancer has spread to his bones. It doesn’t look good.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m the sorry one. I never wanted to break up with you, but when this promotion came up, we had just found out the cancer had spread and the prognosis wasn’t good. My promotion seemed to give him some hope and the district’s decision hinged on my relationship with you. I agonized over the decision. I talked it over with my brother and even Daddy. Probably not the smartest thing to do, considering. But he promised me if I took the promotion and got my doctorate, he would be there to see me graduate. It’s a lousy excuse, I know. It killed me to hurt you, but I thought I didn’t have a choice. And you don’t know how bad I wanted to tell you what’s been going on, but just the thought of anyone outside our family knowing seemed to take him to the edge, and he’s already so frail.”

  I lay still in his arms.

  “Presley, I know my words might not mean much to you, but I swear there is no other choice than to have you in my life.”

  “Who’s Anne?”

  He laughed. “How do you know about her?”

  I sat up to gauge the truth in his eyes. “I saw her name on your phone last night.”

  He smiled before he pecked me on the lips. “PB, she’s the private nurse we hired to help take care of Daddy. It was getting to be too much for me to care for him by myself. Daniel could only come up so much. I was exhausted. She called last night to tell me he fell again and needed stitches. Also, he couldn’t urinate.”

  I rested my hand on his cheek. “I’ve noticed how tired you look. So, is this Anne a hot fantasy sort of nurse?”

  “No one is as hot as you.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “Why does it matter? I only have eyes for you.”

  I arched my eyebrow. “Does she live with you?”

  He leaned in closer, his lips parted. “Technically, sometimes.”

  “Answer the question.”

  He closed the gap and his lips met mine, but this time my lips parted and I tasted what I had been missing for so long. He was still a gold medal kisser. Soft, tender, but he owned my mouth, my lips, my heart and soul. And he didn’t let go until I was breathing hard and wishing we were truly alone.

  “Does that answer your question?”

  I took a breath in. “Uh-huh.”

  His wicked grin had me wanting a repeat. “By the way, she’s in her fifties and happily married.”

  “You could have just said that.”

  “My way was much more fun.”

  “I’ll give you that.”

  He caressed my cheek. “Can you forgive me for ever making you feel like you weren’t the best part of me? That I could live without you?”

  I looked behind me. “What’s going to happen when he wakes up?”

  Jackson turned my face back toward him with the gentle touch of his finger. “He’s going to be irate that you’re here, but we’re a packaged deal. I’m not going to ever let anything come between us again, not even myself.”

  “Is that a promise, Jackson Montgomery?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then I guess you better kiss me like you mean it.”

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. “As you wish.” Our lips met and a fire ignited. Rapturous was a good word. Westley and Buttercup had nothing on us.

  Day Seventy

  Monday, October 4

  Dear Mr.
Bingley,

  You will never guess where I am writing this entry from. Mr. Montgomery’s house. Not my Mr. Montgomery, but the Mr. Montgomery. Are you shocked? Of course, you are. I know I am.

  I obviously canceled my trip home. My parents were disappointed, but understood when I told them why. My mom was more understanding than my dad, if we’re being honest. Dad is still worried my heart is at risk. But my heart hasn’t felt this whole in seventy days. I wonder if this is why Jane so readily agreed to marry you. She felt like herself. Or maybe anything was better than living with her insufferable mother. Did you ever think of that? I’m not here to put you down. I’m too happy.

  Not completely happy, because the man I love and his family that I love, minus the father, are in the depths of sorrow. You see, Mr. Montgomery is ill, an incurable sickness. The doctors are giving him six months to a year to live, at most. Maybe less, since he has been the worst sort of patient, skipping appointments and throwing out medicine. That’s why Jackson has to live with him, to make sure he lives. It’s been like having an additional fulltime job for him on top of his job. No wonder he was so worn.

  I wish he would have told me, but his dad was more worried about what the outside world believed than what his own family was going through. I’ve kept my mouth shut about the hell he has put his family through, all for selfish reasons. Being sick is not a weakness like he believes. I’ve never known anyone as self-centered and prideful as him. While he was trying to keep the façade that nothing was amiss, his family has been stressed and catering to his every wish.

  How this man raised Jackson, I don’t know.

  But this I do know. I love Jackson. And together we will get through this.

  Very much in love,

  Presley

  Jackson walked in from the kitchen bearing sandwiches.

  I set down my journal and smiled up at him from the couch in his dad’s den. “Thank you.”

  He set a plate in front of me and joined me on the leather couch. He looked at my journal. “How many times did you write that you hate me in that thing?”

  I kissed his cheek. “Enough.”

  He peered into my eyes while running the back of his hand down my cheek. “Thank you for sticking it out and spending your break helping me and my family.”

  “I would have all along, you know?”

  “I do know.” He skimmed my lips. “Mmmm, your lips taste good, but I’m sure you’re starved, so real food first and then dessert.” He reluctantly pulled away.

  “I can work with that.”

  We each took our sub sandwich and leaned back. I rested against him while we ate.

  “How’s your dad?”

  “Daniel says he’s awake and demanding to be released. He’s still upset we took him to Huntsville Hospital. He’s been making us take him to Birmingham in case anyone recognized him.

  That’s messed up. But I didn’t mention it.

  “Looks like he may get to come home tomorrow. They’re trying to get his pain under control and convince him he needs a walker. And he doesn’t know it yet, but they are keeping him catheterized.”

  Ouch. “Do you think he’ll ever use a walker?”

  “I doubt it. He’d rather crack his skull.”

  “Is Daniel staying with him tonight?”

  “That’s the plan. Then he needs to head back to Birmingham. They’re headed to Disney World for fall break.”

  “Let’s do something fun tonight. We could invite Capri and David over for dinner and games. They’re dying to get together, or we could do dinner and movie. You name it.”

  He gave me a sexy grin. “I have the blowup pool all ready to go.”

  “It’s kind of chilly for that.”

  “I have another use for it, but with the same results.”

  I arched my eyebrow. “Do you now? And what is that?”

  “You’ll just have to wait until dark and see.”

  “And whatever will we do until then?”

  He took my sandwich out of my hands and placed the half-eaten sandwiches back on the plate before he pulled me onto his lap. “This will be our warm up.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

  “I vote we always have dessert first.”

  He groaned and parted my lips.

  Yep, gold medal, every single time.

  Day Seventy-One

  Tuesday, October 5

  There is nothing better, I repeat, nothing better than waking up in Jackson’s arms in the back of his truck. He threw that blowup kiddie pool in the back of his truck and filled it with blankets and pillows. We spent the night stargazing and talking. Sure, throw in some fantastic kissing, but we both had so much to say. Like for starters, he wanted to marry me, sooner rather than later, so his dad could be there. He didn’t ask, he just wanted me to know.

  I stared into his handsome face as he slept soundly. I hated to wake him, but I needed to pee. And I refused to go outside. I didn’t care that his friend owned the cotton field. I admired his handsome face a moment longer and reflected, not only about his intentions, but the last few months. I laughed inwardly about my ninety-day plan. I’m glad it’s something I failed miserably at.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I kissed his lips. “Wake up. Your girlfriend needs a bathroom and a latte.”

  A sleepy grin played on his face. “I love that you’re my girlfriend.”

  I did, too.

  ~*~

  I waited nervously for Jackson to return home with his father. I offered to wait at my place, but Jackson insisted that I be there. I appreciated his bold approach to showing his dad I wasn’t going anywhere, but angry didn’t begin to describe how his dad reacted when he had woken up in the hospital and saw me there on Sunday. I swore he looked like he might have a heart attack. And that man had a vocabulary filled with four-letter words.

  Miss Liliana was coming with them, thank goodness. She was as happy as she was sad. But like she said, time was a precious thing and none of us wanted to waste any, so I stayed and fixed his dad’s favorite meal of beef braised in red wine. Even though Jackson said the medication he was on messed with his sense of taste, I was hoping the gesture counted. I wasn’t holding my breath.

  Even with Jackson living there, the house was so sterile. Beautiful, but cold. There wasn’t a picture in the house, or any sign that a human lived there other than the furniture. Take the magnificent kitchen, for example. Nothing was on the stainless-steel countertops and everything gleamed. I worried about cooking in it. I wasn’t sure I could ever get it back to its pristine condition. I bet Jackson hated living here. His place, though masculine, was always warm and inviting. I wished some of his things were here, but his dad insisted his things not clutter up his home. I was keeping my mouth shut about the unfairness of that, at least for now.

  I unloaded all the groceries I had purchased. Jackson had been living off mainly frozen foods. He needed real food, and I needed to wean myself off my chocolate-heavy diet. I found a suitable recipe for braised beef online and began to tackle it. I chopped all the vegetables and fresh herbs I needed. I eyed the red wine and thought we might need extra, depending on how this all went. I wasn’t one for alcohol and hadn’t had any, per my ninety-day plan, but that could all change once Jackson’s dad arrived home.

  Within an hour, the house was smelling great. I placed the pot with the meat and sauce in the oven and now I waited, not only for the beef to braise, but for Jackson to return.

  I reminded myself I was a lion. I roared. I found I roared louder with Jackson by my side. Together, we could do this.

  I heard the garage door open and I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I stay in the kitchen? Did I dare try and greet them? I stood up and looked down at my cut-offs and t-shirt. I probably should have dressed nicer. No. I was who I was. And it was a lovely warm fall day and I had spent some serious time preparing a meal for the rotten old man.

  I didn’t need to worry about what do with myself. “Honey, we’re home,” Jackson cal
led out into the spacious house.

  I stifled a laugh. He had never been one to use pet names. I wondered if he did it for show. I took a deep breath, walked out into the grand great room complete with spiral staircase, and greeted the threesome.

  Jackson was supporting his father’s full weight and helping him walk toward the master suite. Miss Liliana stood by, looking apprehensive. I couldn’t blame her. Her son didn’t look well at all. His clothes were hanging off him, his hair was unkempt, and it looked like every step he took might be his last. It was a far cry from the man of steel just a few months ago. But even still, his look was intimidating. Though he and Jackson shared the same brown eyes, they were worlds apart. Jackson’s were warm and inviting, they drew you in. Mr. Montgomery’s were cold and calculating, they penetrated you and gave you the chills. And not the good kind.

  I did my best to stand my ground, all while being gracious. It was a tough line. I stepped toward them. “Welcome home.”

  Mr. Montgomery turned his head from me.

  I had tried. I approached Jackson and kissed his cheek. “Dinner should be ready in the next hour or so.”

  “You’re the best. Let me get Daddy settled.”

  “Agh,” Mr. Montgomery spat.

  I paid no attention to him. I drifted toward Miss Liliana and took her hand. She looked like she needed a drink and some rest. “Let’s head to the den and I’ll get you some sweet tea.”

  She patted my hand and off we went, slowly, but surely.

  Jackson and his father went the opposite direction, at an even slower pace.

  When you’re younger, you never think of the day when it will be your turn to care for the people who cared for you. And it must be much worse to witness your child prepare to leave this life before you. It goes against nature. I ached for my lovely friend. I got her settled on the couch with her feet propped up on a pillow that rested on the coffee table. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t mind my son.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  “I think he has finally met his match in you.”