13. Jesse
13
Jesse
Seven years ago
I park my truck in Cora’s grandparents’ driveway and turn off the engine. Something’s felt off between us lately, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed.
I grab the flowers and cookies from the passenger seat and make my way to the front door. We’re supposed to start college together in just a few weeks. I’m hoping she’s just nervous about that—and not something more. I picked up some of her favorite flowers and cookies, in hopes that they’ll cheer her up.
Our entire senior year all we've talked about is our plans for after graduation. There was never a doubt or a second thought in my mind that I was going to leave Scottsdale and go anywhere without Cora.
We’ve spent so many nights daydreaming about getting married, settling down, and maybe even having a little version of us someday. Just the thought of her becoming my wife still brings a smile to my face. I know I’m young, but deep down, I know—she’s the one.
I knock on the front door and wait. I shift the flowers and cookies in my arms.
As the seconds drag on, I start pacing the porch. She’s taking longer than usual to answer. With every passing moment, the uneasy feeling in my chest grows stronger.
After a few minutes, she finally opens the door and steps outside with me. That’s… unusual. Normally, I’d go right in, say hi to her family, and then we’d slip off to her room or the basement. But not today. Something’s different—and I can feel it.
“Hey Cora, I got these for you. They’re your favorite.” I smile and hold out the flowers and the bag of cookies.
She sniffles, and that’s when I really see her. She looks like she's been crying for a while and her eyes are red and puffy.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice softening with worry. “Did something happen?”
I reach out to hug her, instinctively wanting to comfort her—but she takes a step back, and the space between us suddenly feels cold.
“Don’t. You’re going to make this harder than it needs to be.”
“Cora, what are you talking about?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Jess,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears. “I know you have this big picture in your head of our future, all these plans—but over the past few weeks, I’ve realized something… our dreams just don’t match anymore.”
My stomach drops and a tightness grips my chest like a vice. The back of my throat starts to burn. I have to swallow, just to keep it together.
“I know you thought everything was great,” she says, voice trembling, “but you never really asked me what I wanted. You just told me what you thought I wanted.” She takes a shaky breath and wipes at her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot the past few days, and I realized that I don’t want to stay here for college. I want to see the world, figure out who I am, and chase my own dreams.”
“Okay,” I say, without missing a beat. “I’ll go with you. No big deal.”
“Jess,” she says softly, shaking her head, “I don’t want you to come with me. That’s not your dream. Your dream is to stay here, close to your family and I think that’s beautiful. But it’s not what I want anymore.”
It feels like the walls are closing in on me, and I can’t catch my breath. My hands go numb, and the flowers and cookies slip from my grip, falling to the ground.
“Cora,” I choke out, my voice barely steady, “are you breaking up with me?”
“Jesse, I’m so sorry.” This time she tries to reach for me and I’m the one who flinches. I can physically feel my heart shattering.
I bend down, pick up the flowers and cookies, and without saying another word, I turn and walk away.
As I head back to my truck, I make a promise to myself—I will never let another woman hold my heart like that again. If this is what heartbreak feels like, I never want to feel it again.
I tossed the flowers I bought for Cora out of the window as I drove home. I thought about throwing the cookies out too, but there was no way I was letting those bad boys go to waste.
When I pull up to my house and get out of the truck, I spot my mom sitting on the back porch. She has a fruity drink in her hand. Her body is turned toward the driveway, like she’d been waiting for me to come back early.
“Jesse! Come here, son,” she calls out. “I just got off the phone with Coraline’s grandparents—they told me what happened.” She sets her drink down on the outdoor table and hurries over to wrap me in an embrace.
“Too soon, Mom,” I say, my voice flat and monotone. “I need time to process what just happened. I do appreciate your concern and sympathy, though.”
“Oh, nonsense,” she says, patting my shoulder as if she’s trying to soothe me. “You didn’t need that floozy of a girl anyway. You’re too good for her. I love you so much.” She presses her red-stained lips to my cheek, and I cringe at the gesture.
“Mom, why don’t you like Cora?” I ask, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
“Why would I like her?” she snaps, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “How could I ever like someone who just wanted to take my baby away from me?”
I walk over and sit down in the chair beside her, my head dropping to her shoulder. “Will the pain ever go away?” I ask quietly.
“Of course it will,” she says, her voice softening. “One day, you’ll wake up and it’ll feel like she never existed.”