Mine Would Be You (86)

I rub my thumb over his cheek. “Believe me when I say your dad knew you loved him so much. You spent every day with him when you were here. He knew how much you cared about him and looked up to him and loved him. He knew that, Jackson.” A tear falls from his eye, and I press it with my thumb. “He would not be disappointed in you for anything. You lived a life he was proud of, you made a life for yourself, and that’s all he would’ve wanted.”

He looks at me, blue eyes glistening with more tears, and I wish I could tell him everything will be okay and have him believe me. That this feeling will lessen one day. But all I can do is reassure him until he’s tired of hearing it that he isn’t disappointing anyone. He’s just a human being who lost his dad.

“I promise, Jackson. You didn’t shut me out. I’m right here. And your dad loved you so much. I could see it through the phone. I will tell you that every day forever if you need me to.”

Suddenly, he stands and has his arms wound tightly around my waist. I hold him just as tightly, my fingers digging into his back. “I’m not going anywhere.” I squeeze him even tighter when I feel him start to shake, small, barely-there movements, but I feel it under my hands, and I rest my head on his chest as his arms pull me closer to him. Keeping me there.

And in the low glow of the bathroom light, after the loss of his dad, after wondering if I was doing the right thing by coming here after Veah called me, after weeks apart, I know that I would do anything for Jackson.

Because I love him.

I am so in love with him. With everything about him. The layers that make him who he is. The person who might need help but won’t ask for it. The sunshine for everyone else on a cloudy day. The man who never wants to see a gray sky and does everything he can to ensure others don’t have to. The man who doesn’t know what to do when the clouds come in but tries to fight them anyway.

There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him.

I think about what me and Marissa talked about a week ago. How the girl I was with Myles was always willing to change for him, be what I thought he wanted me to be. But with Jackson, I’ve blossomed. I was scared to overstep, to come here, but I was also scared to fail Jackson, to let my anxieties win like I believed I had failed Myles for so long. But I haven’t. I haven’t failed Jackson. Marissa reminded me that I can only fail if I don’t try. And that we’re just taking a hard situation day by day.

I’ll continue trying for this man as long as he lets me.

I thought I’d been in love before. But sitting here, wrapped up in Jackson as he lets out tears he’s held onto for so long, I don’t think that’s true.

What I feel for Jackson, the warmth that floods my veins or spreads in my chest whenever he simply looks at me, the tiny sparks that erupt over my skin whenever he touches me or smiles at me or enters the same room. I know I’ve never felt anything like this before.

So I squeeze him just a little bit tighter as I hold him, and I’ll do anything for him. To keep him here and warm and safe from any more harm.

Because I have never loved anyone the way I love Jackson Ross.

The man who makes me feel as though I’m lucky enough to have walked on the sun itself.





“Here,”

I blink and roll over, taking the cover with me as the smell of coffee fills the room. Light spills in between the curtains, and I sit up. Jackson’s watching me, warmth dancing in his eyes as he holds two mugs in his hands.

“We can go downstairs. I don’t want to be rude,” I mumble, still half asleep.

He sets both our mugs down on his nightstand and carefully climbs in next to me. “No one else is up, so we can stay in here.”

He clicks a remote for his stereo that sits on the dresser, and low, soft music comes through the speakers. He sits back against the headboard as I cross my legs next to him, running a hand through my hair, which I’m sure is a mess. Meanwhile, he looks perfect.

“I need to go fix this,” I mumble, motioning to myself and attempt to crawl over him. He stops me, his arm easily wrapping around my waist.

“No,” he mumbles into my hair, squeezes me, and my lips curl up into a smile. I lean into him for a moment before moving back to sitting at his side. Happy to see he’s in a slightly better place this morning, after Friday night and yesterday, even if it’s only for a bit.

Grief takes time. But moments that bring a smile to your face and make you remember why life is the way it is, those happy moments still exist. Moments like this one.

Friday was an emotional rollercoaster all day until I finally convinced him to crawl into bed after getting him undressed in the bathroom. He had just wanted to lay down, lay next to me, and I would’ve given him anything he asked for.

Saturday, yesterday, was better. It was just us and his family all day. Eating leftovers, mac and cheese and chicken and everything in between. Mateo finally ate, at least for the first time since I’d been around him, and Veah laughed, deeply, when Jackson threw a roll at his head. The sound of them all laughing, the fact that they were still able to feel joy despite everything, made me feel at ease. We sat around playing board games all day. Sometimes they would talk about their dad, remembering his favorites or telling funny stories.

When that happened, Jackson, whose side I never left, would touch my knee or my thigh or hold my hand, and I was happy to ground him there. To remind him I was and would always be here for him. His mom would sometimes give me a knowing look, making me blush. And Veah and Mateo treated me like I’d always been around. Teasing me like they did everyone else, like I was just another family member.