Mine Would Be You (81)

Myles is the first one to say the word. Jackson and I both dance around it when we talk about his dad. We certainly don’t talk about him dying. But I think we both know what’s happening. It hurts to hear the word.

“I don’t want to push him away or suffocate him. I don’t—” I shake my head because I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore.

“I know I broke your trust a long time ago and never got it back, and this isn’t me saying I’ve earned it, because I know that I haven’t. But on this, trust me. You will not. I think that should it happen; you need to go down there.”

My eyes widen, and it’s not as if I hadn’t thought about it. That if he needed, I would go, but I don’t want to overstep.

“Not right now. I know you have to work. But if something happens, I’m telling you to go. Jackson’s going to need you whether he says it or not.”

I nod, but I barely feel the movement as I digest the words. “Okay.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Okay?”

For the first time today, I laugh. Not a big one, just a small hiccup of one, but still, it feels nice. Even if it is with Myles. “Did you expect me to put up a fight?”

He cocks his head to the side with a smile. “Honestly, kind of.”

My lips pull into a sad grin, and my grip loosens on the glass. “Yeah, well, I don’t have any fight left in me. I just want Jackson, and I want him to be okay.”

And I know that a scared me, one scared of putting myself out there, of being there fully for someone, of admitting how much I want to be with them, would’ve never said that out loud. The real me, the grown up and more mature me, wants to be there for him. Even if that means simply standing by his side so he’s not alone.

Even if some part of him won’t want me there.

So, I will happily take the advice given to me about how to deal with this situation, what to do. Even though this all still absolutely sucks, and even though I’ve been told he’s going to shut down and pull away. I understand why it’s happening, and I understand it still hurts.

I will do everything in my power to make sure that he gets through this.

No matter how much it hurts in the process.

I stand up straight, and even though I still want to cry, can still feel the weight sitting deeply in my chest and pricking at my eyes, in this moment, I feel a little bit stronger. I never thought I’d have Myles to thank for that. But I do.

“Thank you, Myles. I mean it, all of this—thank you.” My lips curl up slightly, and I wrap my arms around my torso.

He stands up, warmth fills his eyes, and he nods, plucking his keys out of his pocket. “You’re welcome. It was long overdue.” I walk him to the front door, our footsteps pattering softly over the floor. “Seriously, Nina. I’m sorry, and I hope everything works out okay. You deserve it. You deserve everything. I hope you know that.”

“Thank you, Myles.” I swallow hard, the words just adding to every other emotion building in my chest. And I don’t know why I ask, but I do, “Are you happy?”

He meets my eyes, and my chest tightens. I don’t want Myles. Haven’t for a long time, and especially not now. But the little girl that used to run down the streets with him, walked through the halls and watched him grow up, still needs to hear it. I’m not a hateful person. I’m not going to wish him pain or hope that his marriage fails. Life is different than those two little kids ever thought it would be, but I think we each found something else, something that fits better. So, I just need to know that he’s happy.

His lips turn up. “I am.”

I nod. “Good, I’m glad.” My voice doesn’t falter, and he exits shortly after.

After locking the door, I head into the living room, collapsing onto the couch to wait for my parents. I sink into the cushions and take a few deep breaths, knowing that I can’t predict what the next few weeks will bring.

As much as I wasn’t expecting Myles to show up, his advice gave me a little bit of ground. Something to lean on should I need it when I have no idea what could happen.

With Jackson, with his dad, with us. But I know I’ll do whatever needs to be done for him. He pushed his way into my life, and I’ll do my best to make sure he gets through this, however I can.





October came and went, and the lingering warmth it left into November came and took my dad with it. Leaving only an endless chill behind.

The last two weeks were hard, harder than I ever expected them to be. After his surgery, he came back okay at first before getting sick in the hospital with postoperative pneumonia. He was too weak to fight it off.

Now, my mom doesn’t have a husband.

Veah, Mateo, and I don’t have a dad. Not anymore.

It’s been three days, and it still doesn’t feel real because only two days before that, he was laughing, smiling—coughing, yes—but he was my dad. We were talking about bringing him home. Veah had snuck in takeout from his favorite spot, and all five of us sat around, eating and joking like we used to.

He kept telling us cheesy jokes and kissing my mom in front of us despite our protests. At the end, right before they kicked us out of extended visitors’ hours, he told us he was proud of all of us, how much he loved us, and he let me know, when I bent down to give him a hug, how happy he was that I’d found someone like Nina.