by Jessica Wood
Chloe
“Do you have to work late again, babe?” I asked as I absent-mindedly rifled through a rack of maternity sundresses.
“Yeah, but not too late,” Jackson reassured me on the other end of the line, “I’ll be home around eight.”
“Okay, that’s not too bad,” I agreed. “Should I wait for you for dinner then?”
“No, I don’t want to make you wait, especially now that you’re eating for two.”
“Okay. Don’t work too hard. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye, baby. Thanks for putting up with my busy work schedule lately. I can’t wait for our babymoon next week. I’ll be all yours then.”
I smiled at the thought. “I can’t wait.”
I put away my phone and went to the cash register with the sundress I picked out for the trip next week. After paying, I pulled out the packing checklist I’d made for us for the trip. It reminded me that I needed to pick up Jackson’s dry cleaning. He had to fly to Milan for business at the tail end of the trip, so I needed to pack some of his dress shirt and suits.
On my way to the dry cleaners, I got lost in my thoughts, reflecting on everything that’d happened in the past several weeks. I knew this getaway was exactly what we needed as a family.
Ever since Jackson’s father showed up at our door a few weeks ago, unannounced and very much alive, things had been hard for Jackson. I could tell he was struggling with his emotions. He didn’t want to talk about it, but I could tell there was a part of him that did want to reconnect with his father, to try to build that strong father-son bond that’d been missing for most of his life. But he hadn’t forgiven his father for everything he’d done. And knowing the extent his father had gone to fake his death in order to escape the consequences of his actions, I was sure that it made it harder for Jackson to trust him.
So to avoid these thoughts and emotions, Jackson’s been consuming himself with work, welcoming the new, big project that required him to put in long hours each day.
I knew he needed time to figure out what kind of relationship he wanted to have with his father. So I busied myself with the preparations for the trip and gave Jackson the space he needed.
I pulled up in front of the dry cleaners and walked in with the claim ticket. As I waited for them to find my dry cleaning in the back, I heard another customer come in from behind me. I stepped aside, letting the person take my place in front of the empty pick-up queue.
“Oh my God, Chloe? Is that you?”
Before I turned around to see who it was, I knew that voice sounded familiar from somewhere. But when I saw who it was, it was the last person I’d wanted to see standing in front of me.
It was Amber.
“Hey,” I said curtly.
She flashed me a wide, toothy smile, exposing her pearly whites.
“Wow, how long has it been?” she asked cheerfully like we were friends. “At least two or three years, right?”
“Yeah. Sure.” I studied her briefly before looking away. “You look good,” I finally said, forcing myself to be cordial. From what I had heard from our high school friends, Amber had recently gone through an ugly and public divorce from a real estate mogul she’d met when she was living in New York. She’d completely lost it and had a mental breakdown. She ended up being hospitalized for a period of time.
“Thanks. You look…very pregnant.”
“That’s because I am pregnant.” I felt my patience starting to run out.
“I know. Congratulations. Jackson’s always told me he wanted his first born to be a boy, so I’m so happy for you two that he’s getting what he wants.”
“We’re having a girl, Amber.” I kept my voice as even as possible. I had a feeling she was purposefully taunting me.
“Oh oops. That’s too bad. Poor, Jackson.”
“Both Jackson and I are very happy that we’re having a girl,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. I’m sure you two are really happy.” She flashed another fake smile. “You know, you’re such a trooper. I don’t think I could handle it.”
“Handle it?” I knew I shouldn’t engage it, but for some reason, I couldn’t help it.
“Being pregnant, of course. I mean look at you, you’re huge and bloated. That can’t feel comfortable. Plus, you must be throwing up all the time. It just sounds miserable. It’s so not sexy or attractive, you know?
“Jackson loves the way I look pregnant,” I retort. “He definitely thinks it’s sexy.”
She giggled, “Sweetie, of course he’s going to say that. He’s your husband. He has to.”
I clenched my fist, already picturing me smacking her across the face. But just then, I heard someone clear their throat. It was then that I realized the clerk at the counter was standing there with my dry cleaning in his hands.
Amber smiled as she eyed the dry cleaning. “That’s a nice dress shirt,” she said. She was looking at Jackson’s white dress shirt with his initials “J.P.” embroidered in gold on the cuffs.
I ignored her comment and quickly took the dry cleaning from the guy and thanked him quickly. Before Amber could say another word to me, I strode out the shop, got in my car, and drove off without looking back. As much as I wanted to wipe that fake smile off her face, I knew I had to get out of there before I lost my composure and did something rash that could possibly harm the baby that was growing inside of me. Amber was not worth it.
CHAPTER TEN
Jackson
“Let’s stay here in paradise forever, Jax,” she said dreamily as we laid out on our beach chairs, watching the waves roll onto the black pebble beach from the Amalfi Coast. The early evening sun was setting behind us, slowly disappearing through the steep, cliffside village of colorful houses and narrow, windy roads that make up Positano.
“Sounds like an amazing idea,” I agreed as I breathed in the warm, salty air. I couldn’t remember the last that I was this relaxed and carefree. “Our daughter can be Italian,” I added dreamily.
“Italian?” She lazily opened one eye and shot a glance at me.
“Yeah, if she’s born here in Italy, she’ll be an Italian citizen.”
“She’ll be our little Italian princess.” She giggled. There was a relaxed smile on her face. Both of her eyes closed again.
“Clo?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
I could almost hear her lips curl into a smile. “I love you, too.”
“Thank you for understanding me and putting up with my problems lately. I know I haven’t been the best person to be around. Thank you for giving me the time to deal with it in my own way.”
She opened her eyes and turned over to meet my gaze. “I love you, Jax. I just want you to be happy and really present when you’re with me. This week in Positano, you were. You were happy and you were here the entire time. I didn’t realize until this week how much I’d missed you being happy.”
I nodded. I knew she was right. In the past few weeks before our babymoon, I’d allowed myself to become so fixated on my father and how having him in my life could make me unhappy that I hadn’t noticed that I was making myself unhappy without any help from him.
“As long as you’re in my life, I’m going to be happy. I’ve been living inside my head for long enough. I’m sorry for that.” I reached out and held her hand and squeezed it. “I mean it.”
She squeezed my hand back. We then laid there together, hand-in-hand, in blissful silence as the last of the orange sun disappeared behind the cliffs.
***
“I’ll really miss you while you’re gone,” she said as she helped me pack my small suitcase. My flight to Milan was early the next morning.
“Me too, babe. But I’ll be back in two days and we’ll fly back home together. I’ll call you as much as I can. I promise.”
I leaned down and kissed her.
I smiled as I watched her pack for me. I’d told her I would do it, but she insisted that I wa
sn’t a great packer and I’d get my clothes wrinkled before I even arrived. She’s probably right, I thought to myself as she was putting my dress shirts neatly in one side of the suitcase, making sure they didn’t fold at the wrong places.
“Thanks for packing my favorite dress shirt.” I eyed the crisp, white dress shirt sitting on the top of the pile.
She smiled. “You only say that because I bought it for you. It looks like any of your other white dress shirts.”
“Except it has my initials embroidered in gold on the cuffs,” I corrected her. “I like being reminded of my name, you know, just in case I forget every now and then.”
She giggled, knowing I was teasing her.
“Oh! I just remembered something.” I walked over to my other suitcase and started digging through it.
“What is it?”
“Your birthday present.” I beamed at her as I handed her two boxes.
She looked at the boxes and then up at me with a curious smile. “But we celebrated my birthday last month.”
“But I didn’t give you a gift, remember? Did you honestly think I would have skipped out on a gift this year?”
She shrugged. “I actually thought that’s what happened. I was pretty happy with the surprise party you gave me. I wasn’t expecting anything else.”
“Well then, isn’t that the best kind of gifts then? The ones you didn’t even expect you’ll get.”
She laughed. “So why are there two gifts?”
“Okay so this one,” I pointed at the smaller box, “is your birthday gift. And this one,” I pointed to the other, much bigger, box, “is a future gift.”
“What is a future gift?” She reached for the future gift and cocked an eyebrow at me. She gently shook it. When it rattled a little, she smiled at me, and her eyes glinted with curiosity. “What is it?”
I smiled. “Something I hope you’ll never find out.”
She frowned in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”
I chuckled. “Well this isn’t a gift I want you to ever have to open.”
“Oh. Why? Is it not really for me?” She searched my face for an answer.
I snickered. “Well, it is for you.”
“I’m not following you.” She looked down at the box and then back at me. I could tell she was starting to get a little irritated over my evasiveness.
“Okay, okay. I’ll give in.” I leaned forward and kissed her sweetly on the tip of her nose. “As much as I love teasing you and watching you squirm, I can’t stand knowing I might be making you upset.”
“Okay…is this a gag gift or something then?” she asked.
I shook my head. “It’s a future gift.”
She made another face. “Okay, mister. You’re not being any clearer. What’s a future gift?”
“Okay, let me explain. Clo, you know how much I love you, but as you know too well, I’m far from a perfect person…”
I saw a flash of worry cross her face, and I grabbed ahold of her hands and squeezed them with reassurance. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”
Her body relaxed at my words.
“So I know there will be times I mess up or I will make you upset. And I promise you, babe, when those times happen, it was never my intention to hurt you. But if and when the day comes where you are so upset with me that you don’t know what to do, please don’t give up on me. Instead, open this box to see the future gift. It’s a token of my love for you and once you see what’s inside, I hope all your anger and hurt goes away and you will forgive me and come back to me.”
“That’s so sweet, Jax. Now I wish I knew what was inside.” She studied the box.
“Don’t open it until that day comes or it will lose its effect.” I grinned at her, knowing it’s probably killing her inside with curiosity.
“But you can open your birthday gift now,” I said, changing the subject and pointing to the smaller box. “I’m anxious to know if you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” She eagerly tore through the wrapping to reveal a small, square jewelry box. She looked up at me, and her eyes twinkling with excitement. Then she opened the box and gasped.
“Jax, it’s stunning,” she said breathlessly as she pulled the necklace from the box. Dangling on the silver chain was a silver, heart-shaped love lock. The words “Forever Love” and a heart were engraved on the front of the love lock. Also dangling from the necklace was a diamond-encrusted, vintage-style key.
“Do you like it?” I watched her anxiously, wondering if she really liked it. “I wanted you to always remember the promises we made to each other with our love locks. Our love is a forever bond and I wanted you to always carry a part of that with you.”
“I love it, Jax.” She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. “This is so special and gorgeous.”
She handed me the necklace, and I put it on for her in front of the mirror. We looked at the necklace and then looked at each other through the mirror, our eyes filled with the love we had for one another. That night, we made love to each other, and it felt like the first time. It was slow, passionate, and emotional, and our connection to one another grew deeper than ever before.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Chloe
Half an hour after landing in Milan, Italy, I was standing in front of the beautiful Four Seasons Hotel. I was buzzing with excitement and grinning from ear to ear like a love-sick teenager. I really hadn’t realized how much I’d missed Jackson in the last day and a half since we’d been apart because of his business trip. It wasn’t until I was sitting on the plane from Naples to Milan that it’d dawned on me that ever since we’ve been engaged, we haven’t been apart for longer than twenty-four hours. In the past, I’d always taken some days off work and went along with him on his business trips and treated it as a mini-vacation.
I pulled out my iPhone and quickly texted Jackson that I was pulling up to the hotel. Before I put away my phone, I reread his last text to me and couldn’t hold back my giddiness: I know it’s only been a day, but I miss you so much, baby. I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow to see you. Why don’t you take the next flight out to Milan and come spend the night with me? I’m at the Four Seasons. Room #59.
“Buonasera, signora,” the doorman greeted me with a smile as he opened the ornate glass door that led into the grand hotel lobby.
“Buonasera,” I responded softly as I tried my best to mimic his pronunciation of the word.
The concierge at the front desk looked up as I walked in and greeted me.
“Buonasera, I … uhhh … my husband is staying here, and he’s expecting me.” I decided to give up any hopeless attempt at Italian and hoped the concierge knew enough English to understand me.
“No problem, madam. Can you tell me your husband’s name?” she asked in perfect English as she smiled at me brightly.
I let out a sigh of relief and grinned back. “Pierce. Jackson Pierce.”
I heard her fingers moving across the keyboard as she searched for Jackson’s name. “Ahh, yes. Here he is. Mr. Jackson Pierce. Would you like me to call him to let him know you’re here.”
“No, that’s okay. He’s expecting me.”
“Very well, madam. He’s in room—”
“—Thanks, I know which room,” I chimed in quickly, already heading toward the hallway leading to the suites. I knew I was being silly—and probably rude for cutting her off—but I could hardly wait another second to see him.
Just then, as if to share in my excitement to see Jackson, I felt a small kick inside my stomach. I giggled and gently rubbed my round belly.
“We’ll be with daddy soon,” I crooned.
When I was finally standing in front of the door marked fifty-nine, I quickly brushed through my hair and straightened my shirt before knocking on the door.
I heard a movement inside and then footsteps approaching the other side of the door. I inhaled deeply in anticipation and smiled as I heard the door knob turn.
But when the door swung open, the smile immediately vanished from my face. My chest tightened and I was unable to breathe as my whole body was paralyzed in place. It wasn’t Jackson standing at the opening of the door. It was the last person I’d ever expected to see.
There, no more than two feet away, was Amber—the Amber who had picked on me since we were in first grade, the Amber who had made parts of my childhood a nightmare, the Amber who had always looked down on me like I was dirt under her shoe.
“Oh! I didn’t know you were coming,” she said coolly. There was a smirk on her face as she stood there, wearing nothing but a crisp, white, buttoned-up dress shirt that left very little to the imagination as it framed against her curves.
I watched as she slowly brushed through her gold locks. To my horror, my gaze caught the gold embroidered initials J.P. on the cuff of the dress shirt. My stomach lurched as I realized that this was the same dress shirt I’d helped Jackson pack yesterday morning.
Suddenly, the images from over a decade ago flooded into my consciousness—the images of seeing Jackson and Amber’s bodies intertwined together as they had sex in Jackson’s bed in college.
“W—where’s Jackson?” I finally stammered out as I fought with all my strength to hold back my tears. No matter what happened, I refused to give Amber the satisfaction of seeing my tears.
“I’m pretty sure Jackson’s asleep,” Amber said with a wry smile as she turned her head slightly to motion to the dark room behind her. “Do you want me to wake him up?”
I couldn’t seem to respond as I watched her smile back at me triumphantly.
Is this really happening? Is this real? Or am I just having a nightmare? I heard myself cry out inside.
But I knew the answer to that question.
It was real. The crushing ache inside my chest was too painful for this to be anything but real.
My first instinct was to run—to run as far away from this place, this moment, this pain as my legs could take me.
But something stopped me: the taunting smirk that spread smugly across Amber’s face as she looked at me with disdain.
