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Jackson is not Caleb.
I knew that. Jackson was sweet, loving, and passionate and had never once taken advantage of me.
Caleb was a monster. A puppet used to wreak havoc and terror. He was not a man. He was a predator. He didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself and his wants and needs and desires. No matter how fucked up they were.
He was insane.
Is insane.
“You should be sleeping,” Jackson whispered as he bent over the gurney I was lying on to press a kiss to my temple.
I sobbed, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to him. To them.”
Jackson asked, “Can I hold you?”
I nodded, my face screwed up, trying to hold back another meltdown for as long as possible. “Yes, please,” I gasped between choked sobs when I couldn’t fight off the helplessness any long.
Jackson slid onto the gurney, pulling me into his side as gently as one would cradle a newborn. He whispered his love for me, ensuring I was tucked securely beside him. Then he started humming.
“I love that song,” I said.
He kissed my head and said, “I know, I remember.”
“It was the song that played during our first date.”
We’d both been so nervous that night. We’d just reunited after a huge misunderstanding, and I didn’t know how he was taking being outed to the paparazzi, so I’d been a mess.
He nodded and began singing Brad Paisley’s “She’s Everything.” I relaxed into him as much as the pain that coursed throughmy body like an electric current would allow. His voice was like the finest silk as it caressed me. Calm, love, and comfort were woven into the fabric of his voice, and it soothed me more than anything on this planet.
“I wish I had my guitar,” I said. My Gibson was an extension of my soul, and so much had been stolen from me—from us—that having it back would be like having a piece of myself returned to me.
“I can see if Dr. Cole will talk with Liam so they can bring it,” Jackson offered.
I shook my head. “That’s not necessary. I doubt it survived the crash. It’s sweet of you to offer, though.”
“Darlin’ girl, I’d hand you the moon if it would make you smile,” Jackson said.
His words caused a flood of tears and emotion to overwhelm me. I pressed my lips to his quickly. “Thank you for loving me,” I whispered against his lips.
His eyes were bright as I gazed up at him. His chin trembled, and his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. Seconds ticked by as I watched him struggle to gather himself. When he spoke, his voice fluttered like a sheet hanging on a clothesline on a breezy summer day.
“You’re very welcome, but I could say the same. Now, why don’t you close your eyes and get some rest?”
I nodded, but the song I’d written him after we reunited for the second time whispered through my mind. He’d not heard it because I’d refused to let him into the studio space while I worked on it.
Unable to keep it to myself, I let the lyrics fill my soul until they couldn’t be contained. The piano notes played in my mind as if I were sitting at the ivory keys. I could almost feel them under my fingertips. The vibrations as the mallet hit inside the instrument ghosted through me as I closed my eyes.
I sang about how he had always been there for me, about how there was no life before him. The words expressed that feeling I’d gotten that day during sound check when he first walked into my life. It was like a thousand lifetimes of loving and being loved by him came rushing back to me, only unlocked because our gazes met across the empty concert hall. I’d lived my entire life without him until that moment, but everything changed in the space between one note and the next. I found my person, my life, my heart, my best friend, and my soulmate.
“Gah,” he gasped, his eyes filled with love and pride turning glossy as the lyrics washed over him. “I love you, sugar—all that and more. You are my heart and soul. Myeverything.”
I kissed him softly before resting my head on his shoulder. I murmured to him, “How will we get past this? How will we get back to what we were just a few short days ago?”
“I don’t know, darlin’, but if anyone can get past this, it’s us. Wewillfind us again. We just have to stick together and fight like hell,” Jackson whispered against my forehead.
I nodded, worried that all that optimism was a fairytale pipedream. As I tried to ask him if he really and truly believed that, a yawn robbed me of my words. Not long after, my lids drooped closed, encouraged by Jackson humming another one of my songs to me. Another song I wrote for him, for us. This one was about not rushing things and messing them up.
I let the gravelly sound of his voice lull me to sleep, comforted by his presence beside me and his arms around me. He was my home, my soft place to land, my safety. All that soothed me to sleep until the last thing I heard was him telling me he loved me.
