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Jackson himself is nowhere in sight but his sisters are. I watch from the relatively safe distance of the bottom porch step as my friends embrace the grieving girls, unsure how or if I should greet them. I've almost convinced myself to join them when Eliza's teary gaze flicks to me and I freeze.
She doesn't hesitate before running down the steps and throwing herself in my arms, knocking the breath out of me. Instinctively, my arms sneak around her back and hold her tightly. “I'm so sorry, Eliza.”
She sniffs loudly, head buried in the crook of my neck. “I missed you.”
Fuck, she might as well have punched me right in the heart. Tears tickling the back of my throat, I return the sentiment. “I missed you too.“
So much more than I ever thought I would.
When she pulls away, I grasp her by the shoulders, holding her still so I can just look at her for a second. God, she looks so much older. I can almost hear the arguments that must have been had in this house about the light brown streaks in her dark hair and the new jewel sparkling in her nose, another couple decorating her ears. She must be, what, almost sixteen now? Jesus. “You punch anyone lately?”
Despite the tears staining a path down her cheeks, Eliza snorts a laugh. “No one who didn't deserve it.”
“That's my girl.”
The youngest Jackson attempts her brightest smile. My hands drop as she maneuvers to my side but the connection is quickly replaced by one of hers slipping into mine as she drags me inside.
Within seconds of entering, Grace is at my other side, wrapping an arm around my waist to give me a brief side-hug. Even Lottie offers a stiff nod of acknowledgement before dropping her watery gaze to her shoes.
They're putting on brave faces but, God, they look crushed. I know none of them were close to their mom—I don't think Eliza even remembers her all that much—but, like Jackson told me once, she was still their mom. She was still a part of them, however fucked up that part might have been.
Jackson said something to me before, how he doesn't have the energy to hold a grudge, how she had her reasons and sometimes, he could understand them. It looks like the girls have adopted that same mentality.
I brace for impact when Lux floats into view, half expecting, I don't know, a punch to the face, maybe. It's safe to say I'm surprised as fuck when instead, she nudges her sisters aside and wraps her arms around me. “It's good to see you.”
“Is it?” I joke before I can stop myself. Thankfully, I receive a snotty laugh in reply.
Lux pulls back, one curled up fist meeting my shoulder in a playful punch. “Yeah, it is. He'll be glad you're here.”
“I'm not so sure about that.”
Red-rimmed eyes roll. Eliza clinging to my arm, Lux gripping the other, I’m guided into the living room.
It's almost instantaneous, how I find him. Tucked away in the corner, surrounded by our friends.
With an unfamiliar pretty girl glued to his side.
A carefully manicured hand wraps around Jackson's bicep, big doe eyes blinking up at him. When she rises up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear, he barely seems to hear her, just gracing her with an absent smile before shaking her off.
Eliza lets go of me to run up to him, and I watch as he crushes her to his side. My stomach drops when she pokes and says something to him, my whole body tense when she points my way.
His gaze flickers to mine and whatever semblance of a smile he was faking, it drops. I expect the worst as he says something to the people surrounding him and strides towards me. I would step back, would maybe flee the scene, if his sister didn't have a death grip on me. His last few steps are cautious, almost disbelieving. He nods and smiles at his sister first but his eyes are back on me in a second.
“You came.”
I hate how surprised he sounds.
Because I have no idea how to respond to that, I just nod.Obviouslyseems a touch too sarcastic given the circumstances.
I barely even notice Lux dropping my hand and disappearing into the crowd. I'm too focused on watching Jackson take another step forward, close enough that I have to tip my chin up. Close enough that if his hair weren't tied back, it would probably fall forward and tickle my cheeks. Close enough that I could reach out and grab his hand, easy.
I don't.
My gaze drops momentarily, needing a minute to right myself because, after all this time, he's still so fucking disorienting to me. I hear him clear his throat, see his hands flex at his side. “How are you?” he rasps and I almost laugh.
“I think I'm supposed to ask you that.”
“I'm fine.”
