Chapter 43
43
JAYDEN
One Year Later
I step out onto the veranda, and the hot sun immediately beats on my head. Ahead of me, Jo suns herself beside the pool.
We were able to move out of the apartment after only a few months. Jo started another social media account, wearing a mask, and gained popularity making more food content. Cole joined in a lot, and very quickly, Jo reached the popularity she had on her first account. Then, superseded it. I had a lot to say about Jo’s choice of sounds and editing styles, and finally, she let me help. At first, I think it was to humor me, then she realized I wasn’t half bad at it and let me take over completely. We made enough money doing that to buy a nice house in Mexico and travel, making food vlogs like Jo always wanted to do.
I approach Jo quietly. She has her eyes closed with earbuds in and doesn’t notice me. I can’t help but admire her tanned skin in the sun. About a month ago, I gave her a rib tattoo with thorny vines crawling up her side, and it looks tantalizing on her. It’s healed perfectly, too.
I pluck an earbud out. “What you listening to?”
Jo jumps. “Jesus!”
I laugh. I love seeing her caught off guard.
“Damn it, Jayden.” Jo snatches for the earbud, but I keep it from her and hold it up to my ear. “Is this a filthy novel?”
I hear that it is, in fact, a spicy novel.
Jo raises an eyebrow.
I grin at her. I love it when she listens to her nasty books. Cole does, too. She always jumps our bones like we’ve been starving her of dick.
As I eye fuck her, I notice the seat under Jo is covered in sweat.
“Too hot out here for this shit.” I peel my shirt off. “Let’s cool off.”
Something flashes in Jo’s eyes, then it’s gone.
“No thanks. Go ahead, though.”
I frown at her. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen Jo in the pool since we got here.
“Nonsense.” I reach down and pull her into my arms.
Jo squeals. “My clothes!”
“They’ll dry.”
“My AirPods!”
“I’ll buy you more.” I tighten my grip as she scrambles to get away. “Ready?”
“Fuck–”
I jump. We crash into the cold water with a splash. As soon as we’re in, I let go of Jo, and she shoots to the surface. I follow lazily behind, grinning as she splashes. Jo kicks to the edge of the pool, then grasps it, heaving for breath.
“See? Feels good.” I kick, letting the delicious coolness run over my body.
Jo doesn’t answer. Instead, she clings to the wall, her body stiff.
“Jo?”
She stares blankly along the edge of the pool, still heaving for breath.
Something isn’t right. Fear shoots through my stomach, and I swim to her. “Jo? You okay?”
I look her over. I can’t see anything wrong. I grab her chin and pull her head to look at me.
Jo shudders, blinking back into focus. “Uh…”
I hate the feeling that rushes through me. I feel helpless. Something is wrong with Jo, and I don’t know what it is. I squeeze her face, demanding. “Tell me.”
“I just…water. Can’t do water.” Jo pulls herself out of the pool.
I’m confused, and I follow her out of the pool. Jo breathes heavily as if she’s just finished running a marathon. “Sorry. It’s not usually this bad.”
She looks like she can’t breathe, and suddenly, I feel horrible.
Oh fuck. I did this. She still can’t be around water because of what I did.
A slew of emotions hit me, and at first, all I can feel is anger. Burning, hot anger. I clench my fists and suck in deep breaths. Jo curls up on the lounger again, pulling into as small a ball as she can.
Immediately, my anger is overwhelmed by heartbreaking sadness. I hate seeing Jo upset. I sit down next to her, pulling her into my arms. At first, she fights, but then she relaxes into my grip.
“Jo…” I say. My throat feels clogged.
“I’m fine.”
Clearly, she isn’t. I want to tell her that I’m sorry. But I know words don’t mean anything. Change does.
At least, that’s what my therapist tells me. All of us have been going to therapy. It’s been online with masks to protect our identity, but we’ve been going. Jo told us we had to go or she’d leave us. So I planted a tracker in her and made sure she understood she could never leave. But I still went to therapy. It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Most sessions, I sweat through my shirt, even though we don’t talk about anything meaningful. I’ve kept the therapist at arm’s length. She’s nice and all, but she scares me.
Jo tries to shake me off. “I’m fine, Jayden. Really.”
I hold her tighter. “I’ll make it better, Jo.”
“Not your job,” she snaps. “Let me up.”
“I’ll make me better,” I growl. I hadn’t meant to say it, but the moment the words are out, I feel relief.
Jo freezes. Slowly, ever so slowly, she melts back into me. And it’s the best feeling in the world.
I rest my chin on the top of her head. I’ll make it better. I’m still angry. I’m angry at myself. Angry at the situation. Angry at the world. Although I feel it less, I still feel it, and I hate it.
My therapist says anger is a cover-up emotion. That it’s easier to feel angry than it is to feel other things like pain.
Maybe she’s onto something.
I shuffle Jo in my arms. I hate it when she’s like this. I hate it even more when it’s because of me. Maybe it’s time I opened up to my therapist.
I’m scared. More scared than I’ve ever been. But for Jo, maybe I can stop running.
No more hiding. I have to face this. For Jo.