Chapter 80 Jess AllNothing
eighty
Jess: All or Nothing
Iwake up with my heart racing, confused about where I am.
It takes me a minute to remember that I’m home, in my own bed.
I lean back on my covers and try to relax.
Then I hear something outside. It sounds like a car circling the house, then pulling into our driveway.
I stand and go to the window, opening the curtains just enough to see outside. The yard is empty.
I’m paranoid.
I should just go back to bed, wrap up in my blanket and try to go back to sleep, but I know I won't. A little blue box of memories sits on my dresser. I have this sudden urge to see the pictures of Jacob I have there, to pull out the locket, and rub it between my fingers.
I bring the box back with me to my bed. I turn on the little lamp on my nightstand and open it.
The first thing on top of the pile is a picture of me and Jacob on the couch together.
I stare at the girl in the photo and think of how young and na?ve I was.
How much I was in love with Jacob then. How hard I tried to get his attention.
How I thought we were destined to live happily ever after.
The girl in the picture knew so little about grief and loss and real life.
The locket is next. I run the smooth surface over my lips, remembering the first kiss, and the second, and so many that came after. I close my eyes against the tears. Someday, I hope I can look back on my time with Jacob with sweet memories instead of heartbreak.
I leave the picture and the locket on my nightstand and put the box back on my dresser. As I go to put the lid back, another picture stares back at me. Michael and I in parachute gear, our faces flushed with excitement. I pick it up and look closer.
I don’t regret telling him never to call me.
Michael, with his grand gestures, and money and plans for my life, never understood what I wanted or who I was.
It took being away from him to realize how much of me he had tried to control when we were together.
I flip the picture over and re-read the message he wrote when he sent it to me.
Looking forward to our next adventure. I’ll be thinking of you. Love, Michael.
My heart freezes. I re-read the message.
Then I examine the handwriting, realizing for the first time how similar it is to the notes I’ve been getting.
I’m confused. Were the notes from Michael all along?
Maybe he thought they were a sweet gesture, something romantic. Maybe I misread them the whole time.
But why do it anonymously?
I remember the night in my bedroom. The night I asked Michael to kiss me.
He asked about the card I’d gotten. He noticed it upset me.
If he realized how much it bothered me, why didn't he just tell me it was from him?
Why would he keep sending them, and the texts and the emails, and the phone calls?
Angelica said they were from Michael, but I assumed she'd misheard him.
She said the calls all appeared to have a bad connection. What if that was on purpose?
I’m not sure what to do, where to go from here. Have I been hiding for nothing? Pushing everyone away for nothing?
A car door slams outside. I jump and move to the window. A tall figure walks toward the front door, a figure I would recognize anywhere. He stops at the little birdhouse on the front porch and grabs the key.
The front door opens.