Together.
_______________
“Are you nervous?”
“No. I’m excited. Why would I be nervous?”
“Gretta. I’m sure she’ll have something to say about it.”
“First, I don’t stress about my sister and what she thinks. Second, she’s going to be thrilled. She loves you. Are you nervous?”
“I mean, a little. I just don’t want to curse us.”
Jackson reached over to squeeze her hand, one hand on the steering wheel.
“You’re not cursing anything. It’s fine. The baby’s going to be fine.”
“I know it’s silly, but I just feel like the more people we tell, the more we press our luck about this pregnancy. I’ve already lost a baby. I’m so scared.”
“We’re not losing this baby. I promise.”
Seeming content, she shifted the package on her lap, the silver wrapping paper crinkling.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. This is a good moment, and I don’t want to put a damper on it.”
“You could never put a damper on this. Baby, I’m so excited. Getting to share some good news with my family for once is such a godsend.”
They’d already shared the news with her parents last weekend. Sophia’s mom had embraced them both, tears dampening his shirt as she exclaimed how happy she was. He’d been worried about how they would react, worried they’d feel he’d taken advantage of the situation. They’d felt nothing but joy. They were thrilled at the prospect of a grandchild and at Sophia reclaiming her life.
Now, it was his family’s turn. He’d told his mom he was bringing Sophia to Sunday dinner. She’d been animated at the news, talking a mile a minute about new casserole recipes she could try and Pictionary games they should play.
The only thing he was nervous about was that she would literally explode with joy at the news. His mom loved Sophia, and she loved babies. Her heart was going to burst.
When they arrived, he put the truck in park. Sophia turned to him, handing the package over.
“You sure? This was your idea. You can give it to them.”
“No way. This is your moment, your good news.”
He kissed her hand as he took the present. “It’s our good news,” he corrected before they got out of the truck and marched toward the front door.
_______________
Inside was the chaos typifying Jackson’s family. Louis and Jonathan were playing poker at the kitchen table, Jackson’s mom barking orders at them to vacate, so she could set the table. Jace ran around with a marker, Gretta chasing after him, pleading with him to drop it.
“Sophia! Jackson!” the boy exclaimed, running at them.
Jackson passed the present to Sophia and caught the boy in his arms, lifting him to the sky as was their tradition.
The boy, marker still in hand, doodled on the wall before anyone could stop him.
“Jace! Look what you’ve done!” Gretta shrieked.
The boy giggled. “I decorated way up high.”
Jackson couldn’t help but laugh, causing Gretta to give him a death glare.
“Wait until Grandma sees what you did,” Gretta chided as Jackson returned Jace to the ground.
“Wait until Grandma hears what?” Mrs. Gauge said, turning from her food prep to saunter into the living room where the impromptu decorating had occurred. Her eyes followed everyone else’s stares and landed on the drawing up near the ceiling.
She simply shrugged. “Oh well. Your grandpa needs to repaint in here anyway.” She fluffed Jace’s hair before the boy tore off into the kitchen, marker now mercifully in his mother’s hand.
Jackson’s jaw flew open. “If I had done that as a child, you would have murdered me.”
“Yeah, same. What is this softening up stuff, Mom?”
Their mom just shrugged. “What can I say? He’s way cuter than both of you were.”
They both scowled but eventually agreed. Sophia laughed.
“Now will everyone just simmer down. We’re going to scare Sophia away,” she said, leaning over to hug her. “What’s this?”
Sophia pulled from the hug and handed the box to Mrs. Gauge, eyeing Jackson. Jackson nodded.
“It’s a gift for you and Louis.”
“For what?”
“Just open it, Mom,” Jackson ordered.
The whole crew ushered themselves into the bigger, airier kitchen. Everyone gathered around as Louis and Margaret carefully pulled the silver paper off the box. Jackson held Sophia’s hand, squeezing it.
Margaret opened the box and pulled out an elegant silver picture frame.
It was engraved with the words “World’s Best Grandparents,” as Margaret read.
“Does this mean?” Margaret questioned, looking at Jackson. He nodded, beaming. Margaret practically leapt across the table, rushing to squeeze both Jackson and Sophia into the tightest hug accompanied by shrieks at a dangerous decibel.
“I’m so thrilled. This is the best news! I knew you two were going to get together.”
Jackson felt himself blush. Margaret continued to squeal. Once Margaret would let them up for air, the rest of the family gathered around, and congratulations flew.
In that moment, Jackson’s heart almost imploded. To see his family so joyous over the news, to see them rallying together to congratulate him and the woman he loved, it took his breath away.
He’d been through so many obstacles in the past months. He’d had so many dejected moments, so many times his family had to help scoop him out of the gutter.
Now, looking around, especially at his mom, he saw sheer happiness. His life was turning around. Good things were coming his way.
The woman he loved was standing right beside him, carrying a baby who meant everything to him already. His baby.
He fought back a tear, knowing Gretta would never let him hear the end of it if he started crying. As his mother continued her interrogation of Sophia about baby showers, baby names, due dates, and everything else baby related, he leaned down to kiss Sophia on the cheek.
She’d brought happiness back to him, to his family. She’d handed him redemption and hope when his world was nothing but bleak.
Looking at her here, with his family, he saw a lifetime of happiness, of kisses, and of chaotic family gatherings before them.
He was happier than he’d ever been.
CHAPTER THIRTY
JACKSON
It was on a Thursday about two months after Jackson had moved into his house when it happened.
Life changed again. If he weren’t careful, he’d get whiplash.
Sophia showed up at his doorstep at six o’clock, unannounced, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She carried a picnic basket.
“Hey,” he said after kissing her on the cheek. “You know you don’t have to ring the doorbell, you weirdo.”
“I wanted to.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. It’s all good. You busy?”
“Well, I was thinking of watching the baseball game, eating steak, and drinking beer. You know, the bachelor life. But I guess I could squeeze in some time for you.”
She punched his arm.
“That freaking hurt.”
“Wimp. Come on. I have a surprise for you better than steak and beer.”
She grabbed his hand, and he let her pull him out the door, into the muggy summer night.
The sun was warm on his face as he walked beside Sophia. He offered to take the basket from her, but she swatted him away.
“Hands off.”
“Hope that’s not the motto of the entire night.” He nudged her. She nudged him back.
They strolled, silence filling the void between them. They walked casually like they had so many times. She leaned on his arm. It felt easy.
When they reached their bench—they probably should get a plaque for it at this point—she paused, ordering him to sit. He obliged, and she sat beside him, setting the basket on the grou
nd.
He stared at her expectantly. She just smiled. She pulled two champagne glasses and some grape juice from the basket. She poured them each a glass as he eyed the label.
“Hazards of dating a pregnant lady.”
“Hazards I’ll gladly accept. What’s this?”
“This is us celebrating. Official date thirteen.”
He smirked. “I’m the one who is surprising you.”
“Yes. And you delivered as promised. You gave me twelve amazing dates. You gave me so much more, though, Jackson. You gave me time. You gave me time to move on, to really, truly move on. You gave me time to be certain about all this.”
“I’m patient when I want to be. Plus, it wasn’t really a punishment, you know.”
He clinked her glass and took a sip of grape juice, his gaze still locked on her.
“The thing is, when you brought me to this bench for the first time, I was a broken woman. I couldn’t manage to see past my own driveway let alone into the future. I thought it was over for me. I wanted to just cease to exist.”
His face tightened now with the memory of that time. “I was a broken man, too. I was in the same boat.”
“I know. But somehow, together, we sort of crawled our way out of the hole, huh? We crawled back to life, with each other. And it’s been crazy and unexpected and messy. We’ve gone back and forth. We’ve tried to quit this. But we can’t. Because Jackson, together, we’re so much better. We’re better people. We’re better versions of ourselves. And this baby, well, this baby has just made everything even clearer. I didn’t want Tim to die. I didn’t want to lose the life I had. But with you, Jackson, I’ve realized I haven’t lost my life completely. I’ve found a way to look past not only my driveway, but past myself. I can see happiness again in a life with you.”
“Me too, Sophia. I love you.”
“I love you, too. So much. Therefore, date thirteen is a simple date.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Date thirteen is us sitting here, talking, sipping grape juice.”
He blinked.
She laughed. “I know, you think I’m crazy, right?”
“No. I think it’s fine. I’ll sit here on this bench for eternity with you.”
“Really?”
“Can I get to at least second base while on this bench?”
“No.”
“Then I retract my statement.”
“Well, let me finish. We sit here on this bench. Then...”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Then we go home. To our home.”
He smirked, wanting to make sure he heard her right. “Our home?”
“Yes. Here,” she said, reaching back into the basket. She pulled out a picture frame.
In the frame was the picture from their special night, the carriage ride when they first really admitted this was going somewhere.
“I thought it would look good on our mantle.”
He took the picture from her, knowing without a doubt she was in it for real. He set the picture on the bench seat beside him, put his glass on the ground, and took her face in both his hands. He kissed her long and hard. He kissed away the grape juice from her lips. He kissed away so much more, too. He kissed away all the doubts, fears, and denials they’d lived through. He kissed away the pain of loss.
He kissed away the Sophia and Jackson they had been up until a moment ago. He kissed them right into their new life together.
When they were breathless, she silently reached down, dumped out their grape juice, and tossed the glasses haphazardly into the basket. He grabbed their picture and offered her his arm.
They strolled peacefully down the street again, silence returning. There was nothing to say in this moment, this perfect moment. They were on the same page, finally.
He was ready, so ready, to start living his pages with her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
SOPHIA
The sun’s rays danced around the room, imploring Sophia to wake up. She slowly opened her eyes, the brightness of the summer day contradicting what this day now symbolized.
Death. Loss. Grief.
Sheer tragedy.
Her chest heaved with the weight of the date, with the remembrance of where she had been exactly one year ago today. The phone call. The debilitating news. Life forever changed.
Tears welled, a sign of how today would be. She hadn’t expected any less. Everyone told her the first anniversary was the worst. Still, how did you prepare for something like this? How could you possibly get your emotions ready to face the day everything changed?
A year ago, she’d thought she’d wanted nothing more than to curl up and die, too. She’d been cloaked in the blackness of the news and of the gloomy outlook of a life without Tim. Her life was over, in her mind. She would never smile again, never get rid of the stabbing pain threatening to bowl her over.
The past year had been a windy road of sadness, overwhelming depression, and recovery. Swiping at her eyes, she felt Jackson stir, his arms pulling her in tight under the quilt. The warmth of his body soothed her, even if just a little. She was glad she wasn’t waking up alone.
At one point, this mere thought would’ve brought waves of guilt. On the anniversary of Tim’s death, waking up with another man would have horrified her.
So much had changed.
The love she’d found with Jackson had changed her.
In a seemingly impossible situation, he’d brought light back to her life. He’d opened her cold, dead heart again to possibility. He’d radiated life through her veins when she’d wanted nothing but non-existence.
Today was going to be hard, there was no doubt about that. She’d cry a lot today. She’d think about all they’d lost, think about all Tim had lost. She’d drown herself in memories of Tim, of a life they thought was untouchable.
She still loved him. She always would.
Still, Jackson had taught her it was okay to love Tim and move on. Her heart didn’t have to be mutually exclusive. Giving her heart away again, finding happiness with Jackson didn’t mean she was disrespecting Tim or letting him go completely. She’d learned over the past year the heart was flexible. It could wrap itself, twist itself in ways unexpected.
She hadn’t expected to wake up with Jackson’s arms around her, hadn’t planned on falling for him. The heart, though, was sometimes an uncontrollable entity driven by passion, chemistry, and connection—things she and Jackson definitely shared.
She put a hand on her growing belly, stroking it as she did every morning. After a long moment, she rolled into Jackson, kissing him softly, tears still rolling down her cheeks. He groaned, sleepiness wearing off and awareness taking its place.
“Hey,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.
“Hey,” she said, her voice cracking.
They didn’t say anything more. They didn’t have to. They both knew what today was, knew how momentous it was. They both knew there was nothing Jackson could say to ease the burden. Today would be awkward for both of them, a day to remember the past.
But Sophia knew they’d get through—together. Yesterday, Jackson had offered to give her the day to grieve in private. She’d wanted nothing of the sort, though. She knew Jackson was as essential to her survival of today as anything. She needed him by her side. She needed him to talk about Tim, to remember.
She needed him, plain and simple.
They spent a long time just basking in each other’s arms. No words, no suggestive touches passed between them. They simply reveled in the comfort of each other, understanding between them unspoken.
“Are you ready?” Jackson whispered a while later, his voice wistful.
She nodded, doing the thing she thought she’d never do on a day like today.
She got out of bed.
She rose to face the day, the unspoken mission ahead of her. They dressed, both in black, and walked through their morning routine. When they were both ready, he took her hand and they sauntered outside into the b
right day.
_______________
“Do you want some time alone?” Jackson asked after they’d each placed a white rose on Tim’s grave. They were sitting in the grass, side by side, cross-legged like innocent schoolchildren. Sophia played with a rogue dandelion growing beside the grave.
She glanced at him, his steel gray eyes both pained and comforting.
“No,” she whispered. “Stay.”
Jackson nodded, putting an arm around her. They sat for a few moments in silent reverence of the grave, of the day, of the memories.
Finally, the words came to her, the words she needed to say.
“I miss you, Tim. I miss you so much. I hope wherever you are, you’re doing okay. We’re doing okay here, in spite of everything.”
Tears stopped her, choked her up. She had so much more she wanted to say, so much more she wanted to confess. She wanted to tell Tim about the baby, about Jackson. She wanted to talk about their memories, revisit the past. She wanted to apologize for things she was still clinging to, fights they’d left unresolved, moments she hadn’t appreciated him. She wanted to talk about her life now, tell him the details of how she was getting it together.
The words failed her, the heaviness of the day weighing on her. She couldn’t say the words, couldn’t say any more.
Jackson put an arm around her now, pulling her in. She cried on his shoulder.
“He knows, Sophia. He knows you love him.”
They were words a man should be jealous of, words most men wouldn’t want to hear or admit. Yet Jackson, the selfless man he was, could say exactly what she needed to hear. He always recognized what she needed. No matter how hard it might be to admit the woman he was in love with still left a piece of her heart here at a gravestone, he said the words she so desperately needed assurance of.
“I love you,” she said, turning to him. She knew today would be tough, but she hadn’t realized how debilitating the resurgence of pain would be. Thankfully, she wasn’t alone.
Tim was gone. That fact still remained true. However, in Jackson she’d found a man she could see a new forever with, a man who helped her dream again.
To Say Goodbye Page 22
