Mine Would Be You (85)

Her warmth and motherly aura wrap around me as we stand together. A shadow appears in the corner before either one of us speaks, and I turn, seeing Jackson leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He gazes at me, slowly but fully before meeting my eyes.

He steps forward, towering over his mom’s shorter frame and kisses the side of her head. “Stop making my girl cry, Ma,” he says softly, but I hear it all the same. I feel warm all over. She holds him for a second before pushing him in my direction, and I’m thrilled to see the ghost of a smile appear on his face.

“I’m gonna go get changed and grab your bag from the car. I’ll be right back. Do you need anything?”

I look at him, still dressed in a button down and his tie. “No, no, I’m good here. Go get changed, and your hot chocolate will be ready soon.”

Jackson just nods and kisses me on the cheek before leaving me slightly flushed in the kitchen.

Mrs. Ross’s eyes light up at the sight, but she doesn’t say anything, and we fall into a quick, simple routine. She tops the drinks with whipped cream after I finish mixing it all together. After the drinks are handed out, I settle back into my seat, waiting patiently for Jackson to return.

I’m worried about him, and I can’t focus on the movie in front of me. He hasn’t cried, not really. A few tears at the ceremony, sure, but I don’t know if it’s really sunk in yet, and I’m walking on eggshells waiting for it to. I don’t want to push too hard and not enough at the same time. I just want to be there for him.

So, when he doesn’t return after almost twenty minutes, my worry deepens considerably. I make eye contact with his mom. Mateo is passed out, his head on Veah’s shoulder, who I’m pretty sure is also asleep.

“You should go check on him,” Mrs. Ross says quietly.

My throat tightens. “You don’t want to?”

She shakes her head, her eyes warm. “He’s too worried about me to let me be his mom. He needs you, whether he’ll say it or not. I think he needs you right now more than anyone.”

My heart breaks and swells all at the same time. I nod and stand, padding silently through the hall, past the kitchen and up the stairs. There are pictures all over the wall, and I pause to look. His dad is everywhere, with a bright smile. There’s a picture of him and Jackson from when he was younger, ruffling his son’s hair, then one of him and Jackson in suits at his graduation, and more. The pictures repeat with all his kids and then endless amounts of them as a family and him with his wife.

It’s a beautiful wall, but it also reeks of sadness now, tainted by the recent events. The entire house feels somber, weighed down by the loss of someone so monumentally important the foundation can’t help but sag under it all.

I find Jackson’s room on the last door on the left. The door is slightly ajar, so I knock before pushing it open. His room is clean and drastically different from his apartment now, and I love it, like a blast to the past. His bed is against the wall, a TV across from it. Two bookshelves and a dresser and old posters and pictures. But he’s nowhere to be found. His closet is closed, but the bathroom door is ajar with a light peeking out.

I set both hot chocolates down on his nightstand and tap on the door. “Jackson?”

When I don’t receive a response, I push the door open. He’s sitting on the closed toilet with his elbows on his knees, still dressed in what he wore earlier, and there’s a beer bottle on the counter. He looks up as I step in, eyes rimmed in red, and his jaw is tight.

My heart tugs. “Did something happen?”

He shrugs, and I step closer to look at him as he tugs his tie. “I can’t get my stupid tie off. It’s too tight.” Jackson pulls at it again and again until I step in, bending slightly. I cup his cheeks and force his head up so I can press my lips to his forehead. He exhales deeply at my touch.

“Hey.” He meets my gaze, and the sight of unshed tears in his blue eyes hurts me to the core. “Let me.” I uncurl his fingers from the tie, and he lets me. His hand finds purchase on my hip, playing with the fabric of my dress before sliding downwards and cupping my thigh as I work on loosening the knot. Despite the grief, his touch still makes me come alive.

“I walked up here, and it all just felt different. He’s been gone, but the house felt emptier today.” He squeezes my leg as I untie the knot fully, leaving both sides of the tie hanging over his chest. “I miss him. I miss him so much.”

I run my hands over his shoulders repeatedly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I whisper, cupping his face and tilting it back to look at me. Sadness and frustration gaze back at me, but there’s something softer there too, warmer than moments ago.

“And I’m sorry for not calling as much. I missed you so much. I just didn’t know what to do or how to do any of this. I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“I missed you, but don’t apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did,” he says. “I didn’t tell my dad I loved him enough, didn’t spend enough time with him, and then I just disappeared when I needed you. I don’t know how to do any of this. He’d be so disappointed in me.”

My heart cracks, but I keep my face stern. “Look at me. Have I ever lied to you?”

Confusion flickers in his eyes. “No.”