“And get changed.”
Grabbing both of his hands, I help Jackson up. Our arms break apart once I’m standing before him, so I place my hands on his chest. He’s warm to the touch. I try to help slide his jacket off, but he narrows his eyes and gives the smallest head shake.
“I can do this by myself,” he says.
I can practically taste the disdain. So, yeah. He remembers that he’s mad at me. And I get it. What happened at the game wasn’t my best look.
Hoping this will change how he feels, I reach into my bag for the socks. “I brought these for you. That I knit, that you asked for. I thought it’d be good to give them to you this weekend…”
Will he understand that I meant for this weekend to be about us? That I had no idea my ex would be here? That I wanted to kiss him, admittedly under better circumstances?
He takes the socks but leaves them on the bed as he walks to the bathroom.
“Do you want me to order something to eat?” I ask, reaching for my phone and holding it out. I don’t have anything else to offer him right now.
Jackson waves his hand back as if to say “whatever.” Right, I should’ve known that’s how that would go.
I order a plain cheese pizza and some sodas. By the time the order arrives twenty minutes later, Jackson is still in the bathroom. Which is unfortunate because the driver is calling me.
“Hello?” I answer the call, but it’s gibberish on the other end. “Sorry, I can’t hear you. Are you here with the pizza?” More gibberish. “Um, wait a second. I’ll just come down to the lobby.” More gibberish, with obvious attitude. I hang up.
“Jackson?” I knock on the bathroom door, but I’m unable to hear if he says anything. “Jackson, are you okay in there?” Trying the handle, I find it’s unlocked.
Opening the door a crack, I immediately feel steam. I didn’t realize he was taking a shower. Jackson has just stepped out and is standing there, towel wrapped around his waist, glaring at me.
Whoops.
“You couldn’t justwaita second,” he says, eyes narrowed and unfazed by my shock. “I was coming to the door because I know you couldn’t hear me.”
Water drips down his arms to the floor. He clutches the towel but doesn’t cower away or seem uncomfortable about the fact that he’s standing in front of me essentially naked. I dart my eyes away to the clothes piled up on the countertop next to his toothbrush and toothpaste. It all feels very domestic, and it’s not lost on me that, if I’d done things differently and not messed everything up, this night could have gone in a very different direction.
I’m seeing Jackson in a completely new light. I took for granted the easy familiarity between us. Right now, we might as well be strangers.
“Um, I’m going to grab the pizza.”
“Okay.” He nods toward me. “Can you go already?”
Despite the heat, the atmosphere is frigid in here.
I turn on my heel and pull the door shut behind me. Rushing out of the hotel room, I remember to bring the bag of vomit to throw away, but it’s not until I’m riding the elevator back up with the pizza from the very annoyed driver that I realize I didn’t grab the key card.
Knocking once, I wait, trying to be patient this time. Jackson hasn’t opened the door yet. He might be getting dressed. But did he hear me knock? Should I do it again? Remembering the glare he gave me as I broke into the bathroom, I decide to wait.
A few seconds later, Jackson pulls the door open wide, stepping away as I let myself back into the room.
He’s in a long-sleeved gray shirt and athletic shorts, with his hair partially towel-dried and brushed back. He reaches out for the pizza, so I hand him the box, and he takes a seat on the bed, propped up against the headboard. I stand there, unsure if I should grab a slice and go to the couch.
Jackson rolls his eyes but says, “It’s okay; just sit here.”
I climb onto the bed beside him, careful to move slowly so as not to shake the mattress. He’s not wearing the socks I made him, nor are they anywhere on the bed anymore. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re in the trash. We each finish a slice in silence. That seems to be all he wants right now, but I eat a second piece. “Are you doing all right?”
He takes a deep sigh. “Better now.”
“That’s good.” I want to tell him how worried I was, but I also don’t want to add to any stress he may be under. “But, please, can you make an appointment to see another doctor? I think this is something you need to get checked out more.”
“They didn’t really do anything about it last time.”
“Sometimes there’s dizziness that accompanies certain types of hearing loss,” I suggest, thinking of Ménière’s disease. “Maybe it’s like that.”
