76. Ryan
Ryan
Jackson had told me we were leaving Tidehaven for the day, only revealing our destination when he pulled up to the curb of a wide, welcoming a house with a perfectly manicured lawn, Brody and Anna’s house, fuck.
My stomach twisted into a painful knot. This was the one line I never wanted to cross; this was the physical space where my best friend was supposed to be.
I needed to see Anna, to confirm that the world he left behind wasn’t crumbling, like I was.
Jackson sensed my fear, squeezing my hand firmly.
“We’re just going to say hello, soldier.
I’ve got you.” Before he could even knock, Cory burst out of the front door, wearing a miniature Tidal Teals jersey.
“Jackson!” Cory screamed, launching himself at Jackson’s legs.
Jackson effortlessly scooped him up, spinning him around before setting him down.
“Hey, buddy. You ready to show me that new net?” They headed straight for the backyard, Jackson’s laugh so beautiful, and that fucking backward cap, yeah, I’m screwed.
Anna looked at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Jackson’s been incredible, Ryan.” She paused, swallowing hard.
“He… he came here right after the funeral. He’s been checking on us.
He even paid for all of Cory’s hockey equipment and signed him up for lessons for the entire season.
He said Cory’s going to be a defenseman, just like him, and that the team needs to look out for their own.
” Hearing that Jackson had extended his protectiveness to Brody’s family grounded me completely.
It wasn’t just a care package anymore; it was a permanent investment in the world Brody left behind.
It was a physical way of fulfilling the promise I made to Brody in the sand, and he was helping me do it.
I sat on the porch watching Jackson—my Jackson—in the sun-drenched garden, patiently teaching Cory how to hold a hockey stick.
The ghosts didn’t vanish, but for the first time since the valley, the heavy, suffocating silence of grief was replaced by the bright sound of laughter.
I had finally made it to the quiet pond, and I hadn’t come alone.
Jackson knew exactly what I needed to cross the line between the soldier I was and the man I was trying to become.