37. Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lisette
I step into the dining room just as the front door slams. I feel my brows furrow as I look around the mostly empty room and it’s just Belle.
“What’d I miss?” I ask as I glance out into the hall to where Jackson and his dad are having a hushed conversation.
“Nothing.” Belle shrugs as she toys with a camera. “We finished our thankful turkeys and now we’re going to eat, but I think Abuela left, so maybe we’re waiting?” She shrugs again, her eyes still on the camera.
I glance back into the hall, and neither Jackson nor his father look happy.
“You better apologize,” his dad bites out before walking out of the house.
Jackson’s shoulders slouch as the door shuts and with no one else around, I walk into the hall with him.
“Please don’t tell me that had something to do with me…”
When he turns to me, he lets out a tired breath. “It didn’t,” he mumbles and I can’t decide if I believe him or not.
“Well, that tone was convincing,” I tease, but when he looks at me again, he looks annoyed. “Who pissed in your turkey?”
The corner of his mouth lifts an inch before he shakes his head at me.
I close the distance between us before saying, “Don’t say it didn’t have anything to do with me if it did. It’s like when you say you aren’t mad when you are. I really do hate it and it just gets me in my head.”
He looks between my eyes and a soft look covers his earlier annoyance. “It had nothing to do with you, sweetheart,” he reassures me, his tone taking on that tired one again.
Before I can ask what’s wrong, Isabelle walks in. “Hey…” She starts off gently, and a smile grows on my face when I see how clear it is that she wants something.
“What’s up, penguin?” Jackson walks past me to her.
“So, I was thinking…” She looks between the two of us and nothing good comes to mind by that look in her eyes.
“Uh-huh,” Jackson starts and he’s biting back a smile as he watches her.
“I know we’re having dinner soon, but can I please take just a little bit of pictures of Lola?”
I almost ask who Lola is before I remember she’s her baby doll.
“I don’t want her to feel left out and we didn’t take any with her, but I think she’ll love the camera Abuela got me.” She holds it up with a hopeful smile.
“Okay,” her dad entertains her. “But when I ask you to come down to eat, I don’t want to hear you ask for five more minutes.”
“Deal.” She takes off running for her room.
When she’s out of sight, his face drops again before he runs a hand through his hair.
“Since I love to make you feel worse, I want you to know you’re failing my test.” I shrug teasingly and his brows furrow as if he’s actually worried.
“What test?” He searches my eyes frantically.
“I go through a field of studies after kissing a man. I have to make sure you’re not a part of the ninety-eight percent of men who are horrible.”
“And I’m failing? How many tests have you conducted? What happens if I fail?”
I stifle a laugh at his genuine worry. “If you fail, I’m running for the hills. Your parents just stormed out,” I remind him. “It’s not looking good for the momma’s boy test.”
“Momma’s boy?” he repeats, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah, you need to respect your mom, but not be a complete momma’s boy to the point where she’s a horrible mother-in-law and in love with you.”
His brows furrow as he studies me. “What kind of men do you kiss?”
I tilt my head back with a laugh, but he watches me like he’s concerned for me. I turn to him as my laugh sobers. “You gonna tell me what happened, or do I have to assume she’s crazy and mad we kissed because she’s in love with you?”
It’s his turn to break into a laugh now. “I’m seriously concerned about the men you encounter.” He shakes his head at me before letting out a sigh. “She’s been bugging me for the last few months to tell Belle about her mom.”
His words make me falter and a part of me is surprised because I didn’t think there was anything to tell. “I thought she left you for another man? She wants you to tell your five-year-old that?”
“That’s exactly what I said and she had the nerve to say people deserve second chances.”
I feel my brows furrow. “Well, of course, people deserve second chances. What exactly happened?”
He looks frustrated now, but I’m too nosy to back down. This man is the definition of patient and understanding, but the mention of his daughter’s mom sets him off. This is probably a bright red flag, but I’m too invested. I need to know what happened. Call it what you want.
He studies me, like he’s thinking whether or not he wants to tell me. “How come when I ask about you, I get brushed off with a joke, but you want to know about this?”
I shrug. “Brush me off with a joke. If I laugh, you get a pass.”
He doesn’t even attempt. “Tell me what made you upset the night you came here before your Paris trip and I’ll tell you about her mom.”
I open my mouth to make a joke, but I’m assaulted with memories of that night. I feel myself break into a sweat at the thought of her, but before I can be sucked into my thoughts, I force a smile.
“We couldn’t start small? Maybe how I became an addict or small talk like my emotionally absent dad? We can tie it to how I call you daddy because I have daddy issues. You know, that’s why I like it when you tell me what to do. Huge turn-on.” I give him a once over.
A smile grows on his face and it’s clear as day that he’s fighting off a laugh. “So many options,” he teases.
“So many traumatic experiences,” I add. “I don’t think you have enough stories about her mom to acquire all of this information about me.”
A snort escapes him now. “I’ll have to give you a sentence for every traumatic story.”
“This doesn’t feel fair,” I point out when I realize he actually wants to know all this stuff about me.
“Sorry, my dad didn’t neglect me.”
I break into a laugh so hard that my stomach hurts.
“Made you laugh,” he points out with a chuckle. “I don’t have to share.”
“Yes, you do,” I retort, turning more serious. “I’m nosy. Like incredibly nosy and I don’t know what boundaries are. I will find her on social media so just tell me.”
He shakes his head with a smile and I’m glad he thinks I’m joking.
“When Belle was a baby she got meningitis.”
I feel my brows raise but hold my questions in for the end.
“It was really bad.” He takes a minute before continuing and I can see the fear in his eyes. “We didn’t think she was going to make it, and rightfully so, we were both really stressed. I was distant with her, I won’t deny that, but when she went home to shower and get me a change of clothes, she came back to the hospital with a hickey on her neck.”
My jaw drops and he nods at my reaction.
“It got really ugly and I caused a big show at the hospital. Again, I won’t deny that. I was wrong for talking to her the way I did, especially around other sick kids and worried parents.” A guilty look covers his face now. “I got escorted off of the property.”
He looks back over at me as he continues. “She said she was sad and her friend just happened to be there.” He rolls his eyes now. “But then Belle got worse, and it was too hard for her. The doctor told us she might not make it, and if she did, she might lose her hearing. She told me she didn’t want to raise a sick baby alone and that we needed to work out our problems, but I told her there was no chance I was taking her back, whether our daughter made it or not. I made it clear I was sticking around for my baby, but she left. It was like Belle knew I needed her because she skyrocketed, and now she’s perfect.”
A smile touches my lips. “How long were you two together?”
“Three years before she got pregnant.”
“Damn,” I reply, disappointed now. “Did you love her?”
I don’t miss the amount of seconds that pass as he hesitates. “She gave me my kid. Of course, I loved her.”
My heart plummets.
“But I fell out of love with her a long time ago.”
I nod in response, but my chest is still trying to recover.
His words about what he told me his mom said play in my head before I speak up again. “I think she might deserve a second chance.”
Jackson’s brows furrow and I quickly explain before he loses it on me.
“I’m an addict, Jackson. If I was sentenced every time I fucked up, I’d rot for life. Everyone deserves a second chance and I’ll die on that hill.”
“Okay, but—”
“ However ,” I cut him off. “I’m not saying you need to get back with her. Isabelle should a hundred and ten percent get to know something good about her mom if she asks. She is a very curious kid, and her mom was mentally vulnerable when she cheated. Yes, it was wrong, but coming from someone who was abused because they had mentally unfit parents, people do unspeakable things when they’re sad and mentally checked out. Does that mean I’m forgiving my bio parents? Fuck, no, they had a hundred chances with me, but she didn’t fuck up big enough to lose her kid forever. She hurt you, JJ, not Isa.”
He doesn’t reply as my words sink in. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbles, as he nods to himself, walking to the dining room.
I follow close behind him before he sinks into a seat at the table.
“Was that a ‘yeah okay whatever bitch’ or a ‘you’re right, but my feelings are hurt’ yeah okay?” I ask gently and he forces a smile.
“The latter.”
I nod in return as I sit beside him.
“I think it just hurts more because she moved on.” He keeps his voice low, but I sit up in my seat.
“What?”
His eyes meet mine.
“Way to keep the best for last. The hell do you mean she moved on? You followed up on her?”
“Of course I did.”
My jaw drops. “Do you have pictures?”
He shakes his head as he pulls out his phone. “You’re too invested and not sympathetic enough.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “You poor thing. Show me the bitch who broke your heart and left you with a kid you didn’t even know about.” I roll my eyes, but smile when I notice him smiling again.
He takes a second to scroll, and when he turns the phone to me, my jaw drops again. “Holy shit.” I take the phone as I stare at what could be Isabelle’s twin.
A beautiful woman smiles at the camera; she has olive skin and midnight dark hair. She’s not what surprises me, it’s the kid in her arms that can be Isabelle’s carbon copy. The main difference is the eyes. Where Belle has gray eyes like her dad, this little girl has blue ones and she has pin-straight hair compared to Belle’s curls.
“Holy. Shit,” I mumble again. “Either Belle looks like her mom with your hair and eyes or her mom has a very specific type.”
He swipes again and it’s a wedding picture of a handsome blond man with blue eyes. He doesn’t really resemble Jackson besides the complexion and hair color.
“How long ago was this?”
“They got married a year after she left. This is who she cheated with.”
“No. Fucking. Way.”
“Yeah.” He takes the phone as he sinks into his seat. “I looked for her for Belle’s first birthday and I found out she was pregnant. She said it was too hard to be in Belle’s life because she felt guilty for leaving, but that she’s happier. Good for her though, right?”
He doesn’t sound sarcastic or bitter at all. He actually sounds genuine. Like he’s forcing himself to be happy for her and his mom really did raise a good man.
“Well forget what I said. She got her second chance when you called her. Maybe she is a bitch.”
Jackson shakes his head as he tucks his phone in his pocket. “Don’t call her that.”
And there goes my heart plummeting again. Of course, he defends her.
“My mom says that now that Belle is older and asking for her, I should reach out to her.”
I feel myself go still. “Are you?”
He lets out a scoff. “Hell no.”
I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me feel better. “You’re better than me.” I shrug. “I don’t take back anything I said about second chances, but I’d hate her just a little bit.”
“I can’t.” He shakes his head at himself now. “I tried hating her, but I can’t.”
“Maybe you’re still in love with her,” I tease but as the words leave my mouth, I’m immediately holding my breath as I wait for him to deny it.
“Maybe I am.”
Kill. Me. Now.
A smile grows on his face as he studies whatever face I’m wearing. “That was a joke,” he whispers and I force a smile on my face as my shoulders ease.
“Does being in love with my ex immediately mean I fail all your tests?”
I narrow my eyes at his teasing tone. “The ex is a whole other category of test and it isn’t looking too good since you, one, have pictures of her and two, are still stalking her.”
While it seems like I’m joking, I’m definitely not.
“I haven’t stalked her in over two years,” he counters.
“That doesn’t make the pictures disappear from your phone.”
He pulls out his phone before swiping a few times. After a minute, he sets it in front of me. “Gone.”
I let out a scoff. “You did not.”
“It’s not like I need them.” He shrugs. “The ones of her and Belle are still there in case I show her, but her alone or us alone are gone.”
I don’t move, but he nods to the phone and I’m too nosy to ignore an unlocked phone. Swiping it from the table, I look at the album name .
“Skye?” I glance up at him and he only nods. I look back at the album and my heart aches at pictures of them as a family. She really does look happy during her pregnancy. Her belly is huge and Jackson looks through the roof as he’s holding a baby dress to her stomach.
I feel myself smiling at pictures of Isabelle as an infant in their arms. When I see one that looks familiar, I tap on it and realize it’s from the newborn photoshoot Jackson has in his office.
I always assumed Isabelle had that photoshoot alone, but there are tons of pictures of the three of them in matching pastel pink outfits.
Pulling in a deep breath, I hand Jackson the phone back, deciding I’ve put myself through enough misery.
“Why didn’t you marry her?” Nope. Not enough misery I guess.
He smiles, but it looks bitter. “She didn’t want to get married.” He raises his brows unamusingly. “Clearly, it was me she didn’t want to marry,” he mumbles.
All I hear is that he wanted to marry her, and I think I’m done for the night.