Chasing Fate

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Chasing Fate Page 9

by Rachael Brownell


  "Don't ask me. Her text said to give you that one. Call her and ask if you want."

  "Maybe I will," I say. When he doesn't reply, I sit up to find he's nowhere in sight. I'm alone with only the letter and my curiosity. Let's see what Amber has to say this time.

  Jessa,

  I wonder where you are right now. Well, no matter what part of the world you're in right now, I hope you are finding a way to enjoy every moment. Since you're reading this letter, I'm guessing you're not allowing yourself to. You know better than that.

  So, I figured at some point in time you would space out and shut down. It's finally happened. As I write these letters, hoping you may never have to open even one of them but certainly not all of them, I'm finding you to be rather predictable ya know.

  Here's my advice: Stop.

  Stop preventing yourself from having fun.

  Get out of your head.

  Focus on what's really important.

  Live in the now and stop worrying about what happens next.

  Stop hiding from what you want.

  Most importantly, stop hiding from Jackson. You know you want to be with him and so does he. Let it happen, Jessa. Let yourself be happy. If you don't stop worrying about all the "what ifs" you are going to push him away. What then? The last thing I want is to find you on my doorstep a blubbering mess because YOU screwed things up.

  Think about it.

  Love,

  Amber

  That woman, I swear. If it weren't for her, I'm not sure how I would make it from one day to the next. She's saved my ass on many occasions throughout our friendship. She picked up the pieces after Jeff, found a way to put me back together and make me whole again. She knows all my fears when it comes to men. I don't ever want to fall apart again, so I guard myself at all times.

  The funny thing is, I don't think I need to be guarded around Jackson. Sure, my feelings for him are strong and scare the hell out of me, but I don't think he has any intention of hurting me. I'm not sure it's in his nature to be able to hurt another person.

  If only Amber knew that my fears weren't surrounding Jackson hurting me but vice versa. I'm afraid to hurt him. I saw the look on his face in the Bahamas when he talked about Nate stealing Nell from him. I saw the devastation when he found out about her death. Then, there was the anger at Nate that radiated off of him in waves.

  He's lost enough people in his life. I don't want to be added to the list.

  My only option is to be truthful with him. I need to tell him everything and let him make his own decision. If I don't, I might end up hurting him regardless.

  This is going to suck–for both of us. I'm not even sure how to start the conversation. My gut tells me to call Amber, tell her the truth first so maybe it'll be easier to tell Jackson. That's my gut, though. My heart doesn't agree. It's going to be bad enough to break one heart today. I don't need to break two, especially since I can't hold Amber while she breaks down.

  This isn't the type of thing you tell someone over the phone. Or through text message. You have to tell them in person. There's no other option.

  Ring.

  And there she is. Calling me because I haven't checked in with her.

  Ring.

  If I don't answer, she'll keep calling.

  Ring.

  There's no avoiding her. This conversation is going to happen. How much I tell her will depend on how much I can bring myself to say.

  "Hello," I say, answering before my voice mail picks up.

  "Hey. What is it? You didn't call me right away, so maybe he needs to give you a different letter. I had to guess which one might help. It didn't help did it? Oh, God. Tell him to grab number five. That one was better. I think I was a little tired when I wrote number eight. Or maybe ten, or–"

  "Amber," I say, cutting her off. She would ramble on forever if I let her. Maybe I should have. Then I could have avoided this.

  "Sorry. You know how I get."

  Yes. Yes, I do. "There's something I need to tell you. I need you to listen without interrupting until I'm done, and then you can ask me anything. Okay?"

  "I don't like the sound of this, Jessa."

  She's not going to like what I have to say either.

  Closing the door behind me, I take a seat on the bench down the hall and slowly start to explain as much to Amber as I can without crying. Amber is a mess after only a few minutes, claiming she's going to book a flight to Paris immediately. I would love for her to be here right now, but that's not going to change anything. Nothing can and nothing will.

  Chapter 10

  Jackson is sitting on the couch waiting for me when I finally come back in. It took me almost an hour to convince Amber to stay home. Instead of calling her every few days, I'm obligated to call her every day now. I can live with that until we're back on the same continent.

  "Everything okay?" he asks, noticing the tear stains on my cheeks, I'm sure.

  "Not really."

  "Wanna talk about it?"

  No. "Not really, but we need to."

  "Was it Amber's letter?" Jackson asks, tilting his head curiously.

  "Not exactly. Her letter was... well, it was what I needed to hear. I'm not sure how she knows, but she does. She's kind of amazing like that."

  "So..."

  "Alright. I'm going to tell you exactly what I told Amber and nothing more. You can't interrupt me like she did every five seconds. You have to wait to ask me questions until I'm done. You're not allowed to cry, not that you would, but she cried, which made me cry, and I'm sick of crying about this. Are we all clear?" I ask.

  Nodding, Jackson sits up a little straighter on the couch. I take a seat across from him, straighten my shoulders, and put on a brave face.

  "Keep in mind that nothing you say will convince me to go home early, okay?" Clearing my throat, I continue. "This trip, it's not just about living out my bucket list. Sure, I want to do all these fun things. I'm having an amazing time, partially because you're here with me. Checking things off the list is only part of this, though. The other part is bigger and scarier and less than fun.

  "Six months ago, I went to the doctor because I had been getting migraines frequently, and nothing had been working to subside them. They came on quickly and knocked me down for hours–a few times even for a full day. It started to affect my job, especially all the traveling. After a few visits with no obvious solution to my problem, he sent me to a specialist.

  "Well, the doctor insisted on doing a few different scans, and when the results came back, they weren't good. I have a tumor pressing on the frontal lobe of my brain. We talked about different treatment options, but there aren't many to choose from. He gave me a few different meds to help with the migraines and to manage my nausea. They have side effects, of course, but I've been feeling fine the past few weeks."

  I managed to avoid eye contact with him the entire time, even though I knew he was staring at me. Sitting here in silence, waiting for him to say something, is almost worse than saying the words out loud. How will he react? Will he be angry that I kept this from him?

  Unable to take the silence any longer, I find the courage to make eye contact before I speak. "I made the decision to live until it takes me. That's why I planned this trip. I hope you understand that. If you want to leave, I get it."

  "I'm not going anywhere, Jessa," he says, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yes, I wish you would have been honest with me from the beginning, but we can't change that now. All we can do is move forward."

  "Okay," I say, hesitantly. That can't be all he has to say about it.

  "Why don't we go to bed? It's really late, and I think we need to table this discussion for the night. We can talk more tomorrow."

  "Are you sure?" I ask, surprised that he doesn't have questions. Amber had a million. Maybe she asked enough for the both of them.

  "I need time to process, that's all." Standing, Jackson steps over the coffee table between us and pulls me into his arms.

  He do
esn't say another word. He holds me for a few minutes before insisting on going to bed again. Once we're both under the covers, Jackson pulls me to him again, holding me tight against his body. His body is warm and inviting. I can feel myself getting excited, so I roll to face him, hoping he has the same thing on his mind. When I see the tears streaming down his face, a clear sign he doesn't, is when I realize that I've done the one thing I was trying to avoid. I've broken him.

  We spend three days locked in the hotel room, talking in circles. He wants me to get a second opinion, and a third if we don't like what that doctor says. I'm done being poked and prodded. I've had months to accept my fate. If I get another opinion, it's like I'm getting my hopes up for a different outcome. I have no intention of feeling that devastation again.

  "Do it for me, Jessa. Do it for Amber, your family, your son. If nothing else, do it for him. Does he even know? Do your parents?"

  No and no. No one knows except Amber and Jackson. That's the way I plan to keep it until I have no other choice but to tell them. If I tell them now, all they'll do is worry constantly. I don't want that for them. I especially don't want that for Alex. He's too young to understand.

  "No one knows."

  "Don't you think you should tell them?"

  "Not yet. I need time."

  "You don’t' have time, Jessa. That's what I'm trying to tell you."

  "I do. Not a lot, but enough. Plus, it was hard enough to tell Amber over the phone. I want to be able to tell them in person."

  "If that's what you really want, I think you should consider rearranging the rest of the trip. We don't need to be here for ten more days. We don't need to spend two weeks in Italy. We could do everything you want, see everything there is to see in both places in less time. Then, when we get back to the states, you can go home and tell them."

  He's not going to give this up. I'm going to have to compromise or the rest of the trip will be about me being sick. That's what I was trying to avoid from the get-go. I shouldn't have told him. I should have kept my little secret and lied to him about what was going on.

  "Fine. We can spend a few more days here and a week in Italy, instead of two. When we get back to the states, we can add a stop so I can tell my parents."

  "What was your plan originally once you got home?"

  "Road trip. I wanted to drive across the country and work my way down the rest of the list."

  "So we can stop and see your parents and keep going. This doesn't have to mean the trip is over."

  "Deal."

  Jackson starts making calls, rearranging our flights and hotel accommodations. While he does that, I pull out my list and my map in an attempt to figure out our new route. Kansas isn't anywhere near my plan. In fact, being in the center of the country one would think I would have to get near it at some point, but I don't.

  We are scheduled to fly into New York. From there I was planning on going through Canada to Michigan. There's a place near the Mackinaw Bridge that is known for being able to see the northern lights. After that, I was going to travel through the upper peninsula of Michigan, check out the waterfalls up there, before heading west.

  There are a few cities on the Pacific coast on my list. I figured I'd start in Seattle and head south. Napa Valley in Northern California was going to be a stop. Who doesn't love wine?

  I've heard Pacific Coast Highway is a beautiful drive through California. I was planning on sleeping on one of those beaches, but Jackson made sure I could check that off my list when we were in the Bahamas. We could still do it, I guess. Knowing that I would have to eventually go home, my plan was to turn east after that and head to the Grand Canyon. Maybe stop in Vegas and bet a little if I have any money left.

  Unfortunately, that's where my plan ended. If Jackson wants me to see my parents it will have to be after the northern lights or at the end of my trip.

  "Okay," he begins, walking back into the room and tossing his phone on the table. "Our flight leaves late tomorrow night. It's the best I could do. The place you booked in Venice isn't available so I canceled your reservation and made us a new one. What did you come up with?"

  "You have two options. Either we can stop before we head west or we can wait until the trip is over. There really aren’t any other options based on how I originally mapped things out. I've been so many places that I avoided a good portion of the country, including Kansas."

  "We'll go before we head west, then."

  "That's going to add a few days of travel to the trip. Are you okay with that?"

  Jackson studies my map for a few minutes before he says anything. I watch his eyes as they follow the red line I drew when I started planning this months ago. I didn't realize what I was getting myself into back then. It was a fun idea, new and exciting, and I was determined to make it happen. Looking back now, I was a naive girl. If Jackson wasn't on this trip with me, I would have flown home long before now.

  "What if we flew into Detroit instead of New York?"

  "We could."

  "That would save us at least a day of traveling. Then, we could fly to your parents instead of drive. That'll save us another day."

  "That all sounds great, Jackson, but what about the northern lights? What about the waterfalls?" I ask, pointing to the two stars I've marked on the map. Everywhere I want to stop is marked with a star.

  "We'll still see it all, I promise. I'll make arrangements for us to fly to Detroit, rent a car, and we can fly out of Green Bay a few days later. When we get back home, we can take my car to Seattle, that'll save us some money since we have an extra flight to pay for."

  How he knew I was worried about money is beyond me.

  Jackson makes a few more phone calls and then pulls me out the door. We have a lot of the city left to experience before we're off on our next adventure. We're going to be back in the states in eight days so it's going to be a whirlwind between now and then. I can only imagine what he planned for us while I wasn't paying attention.

  By the time we make it back to the room, my feet hurt and I'm exhausted. We were able to see not only the Louvre, which made Jackson insanely excited, but also Norte Dame de Paris. We walked a lot, caught a few cabs, ate amazing food, and laughed at every turn.

  The air between us is much lighter. I'm starting to feel better about telling him. I was so afraid that it would ruin what was going on between us that I never thought it would bring us closer. In a way, it has. At the same time, I still can't help but wonder how long it will last.

  I want to ask him why he hasn't run yet. Why is he sticking with me? Does he realize I'm going to die? I never said the words aloud, but he has to get what I was hinting at. There's no chance I'll survive this. The doctor gave me a one percent chance of living more than a year.

  Pushing those thoughts out of my head when Jackson wraps his arms around me from behind, I force a smile. That's the second time today I've gotten lost in the dark depths of my thoughts. They always turn negative no matter how positive I try and stay.

  "Let it go, Jessa. For now at least."

  "I'm fine," I lie, trying my best to sound happy and upbeat.

  "Sure, you are." Stepping back, Jackson's arms release me, and I immediately feel lonely. He's still standing behind me, but his warmth and comfort are gone in an instant. "Turn around," he demands. Doing as he asks, I'm surprised to find him removing his shirt, letting it fall to the ground at his feet. His eyes never leave mine as he unbuttons his pants, slowly drawing the zipper, as well as my attention, down.

  "What are you doing?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

  "What do you think? I'm going to put you in a better mood. It's been days since I've had my way with you. Too long in my opinion." Stepping out of his pants, he drops them on top of his shirt.

  Looking back up, I find Jackson grinning at me, a daring look in his eyes. Knowing exactly what he's daring me to do, I grab the hem of my shirt and lift it just enough to give him a glimpse of my belly button.

  "I thought you were
having your way with me," I challenge, letting my shirt fall back into place.

  Growling, in one swift move, Jackson picks me up, lifts me over his shoulder and carries me into the bedroom. Laughing the entire ride, I'm tossed down on the bed, and my pants are pulled off my body without being unbuttoned. My laughter fades when I notice that Jackson's kneeling between my legs, pushing them as far apart as he can. His eyes meet mine as his finger traces the edge of my panties, causing me to melt into a puddle.

  Exhausted from hours of pleasure, Jackson draws me a bath. Lying in the tub, I think back to the first few weeks Jackson and I were messing around. It didn't seem like anything serious. He was a booty call, and so was I. It was convenient. When I would get home from a business trip, no matter what time it was, I could text him and he would come over. He never stayed the night. It wasn't about that. All I was looking for was some physical contact, and he was more than willing.

  When did things change? Why didn't I notice? I know he's had feelings for me for longer than this trip, but have I? Was I lying to myself or ignoring those feelings?

  One time, last year, when Amber and I got into a rare fight. I remember getting drunk and texting him in the middle of the afternoon. He was at my apartment in less than an hour, leaving work to find out what was wrong. He held me for hours while I cried. It was the opposite of sexual that day. He was more than a friend, but less than my boyfriend. Falling asleep in his arms, Jackson tucked me into bed and slept on the couch that night to make sure he was there if I needed him.

  Hungover beyond belief the next morning, I forgot I had called Jackson. I almost screamed when I walked into my living room and found him on the couch. When I realized it was him, all I could do was stare. Bits and pieces of the previous day started to come back to me the longer I watched him sleep. He was caring and gentle with me. He didn't try to get me naked or take advantage of me.

  Thinking about that moment now, I'm pretty sure I started to have feelings for him that day. I may not have realized it then, but it happened. Nothing between us changed after that. I still considered him my booty call. Things went on as they always had. Life was good.

 

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