Chapter 29
NOW
July
The day after Jackson and I went through my bedroom, I was still reeling.
I spent the entire day on the couch, watching movies on my laptop, crying on and off.
I even called Wren to vent. I was an absolute mess.
The more time I spent with Jackson, the more fucked up my heart felt.
I didn’t know how much longer I could keep doing this.
Jackson had called and texted throughout the day, but I ignored every message. I needed space.
I had bottles of wine DoorDashed to the house, and I pushed myself to finish my room while listening to the song “Remembering Sunday” by All Time Low and blowing my nose every two seconds.
After I was done, I laid down on the couch, drinking as much as my body could handle. I had barely eaten anything all day, and it was hitting me hard.
I was half asleep on the couch, nodding off when I thought I heard a rap of knocks on the front door.
“Vodka Cranberry” by Conan Gray had been playing on my laptop on repeat for at least the past two hours.
The clock on my screen read ten thirty pm.
The music was so loud I was almost positive I imagined the knocking.
I took another quick drink from the bottle on the coffee table before closing my eyes and ignoring it.
Tap tap tap. Definitely didn’t imagine it.
I groaned and pushed myself up off the couch, literally dragging my feet to the front door. I pushed the curtain aside to see who was there, raising an eyebrow before pushing the door open. “Jackson?”
He had a hand in his pocket, and the other was holding a bag. He let out a relieved breath of air when he saw me. “You weren’t answering your phone all day. I was worried.”
“I’m fine. Just busy,” I lied. My words were slurred, and I tried to clear my throat to hide it. Jackson furrowed his eyebrows and walked past me, letting himself in.
I followed him into the family room where he paused the music, which had still been playing at an alarming volume.
He stared at the laptop for a moment before sitting down on the couch beside it.
He turned around to look at me, still standing in the doorway of the family room.
I watched his eyes take in the Delvecchios’ polo, then they dropped to take in his old pair of boxers, both of which I still had on. I was too drunk to even care.
“I brought you some pizza from the restaurant.” He set the bag on the table in front of us, and I slowly walked over to sit next to him.
I wanted to be mad at him; I wanted to keep some distance between us. He was marrying someone else, and I was tired of my old feelings resurfacing. But why did he have to care so much about my well-being? He was making it so hard.
I begrudgingly took the slice that he was holding out for me, forcing myself to eat it. Of course he had to bring pizza!
“What have you been doing all day?” His eyes flicked up and down over my attire again, lingering on the embroidered “Delvecchios’ Restaurant” for a second before meeting my eyes.
I ignored him and finished eating my slice.
His hands were clasped in his lap as he waited for me to answer.
I tucked my knees up to my chin and curled up into the side of the couch, watching him watch me.
He was positioned so we were facing each other.
An ache was pulsing in my heart. He was looking at me like he cared—like not hearing from me all day hurt him.
He didn’t hear from me for ten years, and he never once looked for me.
So why would he care about twenty-four hours of radio silence?
I reached forward and dragged my finger across the scar on his eyebrow. He caught my hand in his, holding it against his cheek. He closed his eyes, rubbing my wrist with his thumb.
Heat radiated from where he had a hold on me. “I called you, ya know,” I whispered. He opened his eyes, looking back and forth between mine.
“No, you didn’t. I’ve been calling you all day.”
I shook my head, a tear escaping from my left eye against my will. “Not today.”
I exhaled a shaky breath. He was still holding my hand against his face, rubbing those circles with this thumb.
“Three years after I left. I called you. I did the whole *67 trick. You actually answered. I think you were at a party, and you sounded fine. You were fine without me, Jackson.” He was fine without me. He never needed me like I needed him.
Jackson turned his head to kiss the inside of my wrist, and I shut my eyes as if I could hide from him. “I was never fine without you, Addie,” he said.
I ripped my hand away from him, anger overcoming all my senses.
It was a lie. He never looked for me. He never reached out.
And I had to leave back then—I had to get away from Peter.
It was Jackson that said he would come get me and didn’t.
And how could he say he wasn’t fine without me when he had a fiancée for god’s sake.
All Jackson does is hurt you.
I leaned into the couch, burying my face into the fabric so he couldn’t see me cry. It wasn’t fair how much power he still held over me.
“You never showed,” I choked on a sob against the couch, letting my hair fall over my face to cover how pathetic I looked.
“You never even tried to find me. You never found me.” I kept whispering the last sentence over and over again, trying to convince myself to remember it.
To feel it, and to try to forget about my past feelings for him.
I don’t know how much time passed as we sat there, but eventually I started to doze off.
I assumed Jackson had let himself out until I felt him lift me off the couch.
He carried me down the hallway and set me down gently on my old bed.
I kept my eyes closed; I didn’t want to see the way he was looking at me right now.
His eyes were probably filled with so much pity for the girl who couldn’t get over her teenage crush.
He pushed my hair out of my eyes and placed it behind my back.
Then I felt his thumb graze over my jaw and down my neck, before landing on my collarbone.
I couldn’t tell him “No touching,” because I loved the way his hands were confidently running over my skin, like he knew my body better than anyone else ever had.
It was so soothing, the way he was rubbing my collarbone back and forth. I felt his lips against my temple, down on my cheek, then at the corner of my mouth. I was so tired that the only reaction I had was the tear that ran down my nose.
I let myself fall back into a deep sleep, and I don’t know if it was real or not, but I thought I heard Jackson say, “I found you, Addie. I did.”