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“Was he working?”
“You could say that.”
“His precious hospital is all that matters to him anymore.”
“I don’t think that’s true at all.”
“How do you know? Did you talk to him?” There was no denying the hopefulness in his voice, breaking my heart a little more.
“I could just tell.”
“How?”
“I could see it in his eyes. He misses you as much as you miss him.”
“I don’t miss him.”
“Jackson…”
“I don’t. I don’t need him. To hell with him.” There was so much pain in his words, making my heart bleed for him.
“You don’t mean that. You’re just angry. Trust me, I know what that feels like.”
“You think you know everything, don’t you, Mary Poppins?”
“I know I’ve become your punching bag, and I don’t care what you tell yourself, I know you don’t hate me. But if it makes you feel better to take stabs at me, then so be it. Hit me again, Jackson, because maybe there’ll come a day when you can see me as your friend and not your enemy. I’m actually a pretty cool person. If you gave me half a chance, you’d see I’m not a threat to you. To anyone for that matter. I’m not here to replace anybody, I just want to help you.”
“And then what? When you’re done helping, you what? Just leave us behind?”
“Is that what you want?”
“No.”
I smiled, thinking I got through to him. He abruptly stood, quickly handing his baby sister over to me.
“Journey wouldn’t like that. Because let’s face it, Camila, we both know she’s the only one who wants you here.”
I grimaced, and for the first time I saw regret pull at his eyes.
“Did that make you feel better? Because the expression on your face says otherwise.”
With a spiteful tone, he bit, “Everyone leaves, that’s just life.”
My eyes watered, knowing in the core of my stomach he was referring to his mother.
“I’m sorry, Jackson, I hate that you feel that way. I wish there was something I could—”
“What did he say? I want to know what my father said to you.”
Before I knew what I was responding, I blurted, “That he loves you very much,” I unintentionally lied through my teeth, peering down at Journey, who was staring at me as intently as her brother, listening to every word I spoke like she needed to hear it too.
I couldn’t look at either of them, my eyes shifted every which way and all across the room until they finally landed on Journey’s favorite book On the Night You Were Born. Giving me the courage to speak up for him, “Your dad is hurting, and he just doesn’t want you to see how bad.”
“He is?” He genuinely sounded shocked.
“Yes. He broke down.”
“In front of you?”
