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I know I’m only torturing myself, but I just want to go on as I have been for the past few days, breathing in the scent of Jackson that still lingers on my pillow and sheets. Replaying the sound of his voice in my ear. Committing his tattoos that I’ll never see again to memory. The skull above the two crossed knives on his hand that goes to my throat when we fuck. The dark clouds that look like shadows growing over the skin of the other hand that’s usually holding my body tight to him, making me take whatever he gives. Both of those hands hold my heart and will never even know it. But even that reminder doesn’t stop my mind from flashing images of him behind my closed eyelids.
The roots that are inked all over his groin, stems growing over his stomach, until they bloom into different colored flowers on his chest that I’ve felt his heart racing in. Black and white snakes, their bodies tangling down one thigh while a night sky, with a blood red moon and black birds in flight play out on the other. His neck, that ink that’s been bitten between my teeth, with feathers spread on both sides, a colorful dragon breathing bright orange-reddish fire on the front, coming up till just under his chin. And his back, that my nails have sunken into, scratched, grabbed for mercy, covered in a full skeleton, laying on a bed of black roses, smiling amongst the darkness around him.
I miss all of it. The quotes spread over his body, even the tattoos on his arms and calves that I’ll still be able to see, I miss them. I want all of them back. I want him back. And it hurts to know I can’t have him. And that if he were to know the truth, he wouldn’t want me.
I'm lying in the bed, sheet pulled over my head to block out that damn mocking sunlight when my phone rings. I hate that a part of me keeps hoping it's Jackson every time I get a call or text. I know it won't be, but I keep on hoping anyway. Heaving a deep breath that feels like it takes far too much effort, I reach my hand from under the sheet to the nightstand. I see Sophie's name on the cracked screen as I bring it closer.
"Hello?" I answer.
She gasps. "You actually picked up the phone. I was getting concerned I was texting your ghost there for a while."
I roll my eyes. "Whatever. How's my nephew?"
"He's actually why I'm calling. He gave me his first smile."
And my first smile, in what feels like forever, comes to my face at her words. It hurts my cheeks, but what's that pain in comparison to what I feel inside?
"Send me a thousand pictures," I say.
"I'll do you one better. You can come over here and maybe he'll show you."
"I..." I don't want to keep lying, especially when I know I will have to get out of this bed, leave this room, this house, at some point. Shawn might be the only reason I can find that's good enough to get me to move. "I'll be there soon. Just let me shower and get dressed."
"Did you hear that?" she coos, and I know she's not talking to me. "Auntie Char is coming over to see you. You remember her, right? Brown hair, black eyes, you've seen her like once or twice."
"Ha ha. Very funny, Soph," I deadpan while getting out of bed. God, my bones should not hurt this much. But it's the most they've done all morning. I haven't even eaten breakfast and it's past eleven.
Sophie chuckles. "Hurry up. Lexa is already here."
I still on my way to the bathroom. "Who... who else is there?"
"Just Lexa. Law's at some board meeting, so it's a ladies day, with one little guy."
I quietly release a relieved breath. I am not, in any way, ready to see Jackson. I wouldn't know what the hell to say if I did. What to do, how to act. How he would react to seeing me.
"Alright," I say. "I'll be there soon."
I hang up and get into the shower, only putting my head to the tiles for a few minutes this time instead of what's felt like an eternity the past few days while I've been in here. Today, I don't stay in here until the water runs cold. Today, I don't cry. I guess that's progress.
I dress in jeans and a t-shirt, grabbing my phone and a hoodie before leaving my room. It hurts when I reach my kitchen, though. All the things Jackson used to make my last breakfast with him, the flour, an empty egg carton, powdered sugar. I haven't had the heart to put it away yet. It feels like the last piece of him that's here, something that he touched. Something he used to make a meal for me back when he still looked at me with warmth in his eyes. I'm sure I won't find that warmth there if I see him now.
I grab a bagel from the counter and don't even bother to toast it, just keep it clenched between my teeth as I head for my shoes. Then I'm looking back at my house. It's been filled with the last of Jackson's presence these past few days. Both consoling me and haunting me. Leaving here today feels like I'm losing all of that the moment I set foot outside. But I need to let it go. Let him go. So I step outside and shut the door behind me.
I blast music the entire way to Sophie's house to keep myself from thinking... much. But once I'm in the house, hugging Sophie and Lexa, getting to hold Shawn again, my thoughts aren't so troublesome anymore. Or at least, I thought they weren't bothering me as much until Lexa asks if I'm okay for the third time.
"Yeah." I smile at her. "I'm feeling much better."
But her eyebrows only furrow, and she shoots a look at Sophie.
"I think," Sophie begins, "she keeps asking because she doesn't mean if you feel okay, but ifyou'reokay."
"The difference being?" I ask, even though what she means is clear. But I don't want to answer if I'm okay. I don't want to lie, nor do I think I have the strength. I already lied enough to Jackson.
"You look like you're about to cry any second," Lexa adds.
I look down at Shawn in my arms, begging the very tears she just mentioned not to come. I can feel them, right there, pleading for release, telling me to let them come forth, commanding me to explain them to Sophie and Lexa.
But... maybe I should. Maybe they can give me some advice, take some of my loneliness from me, or at least just make me feel like I'm not the only one who's ever had a broken heart. They're sure to notice a change in the way Jackson and I interact. Better to just lay it all out now rather than have them asking a hundred questions later. Well maybe not lay itallout, but enough to explain why even being with Shawn isn't enough to chase away my heartache, and why me and Jackson, for sure, won't be the way we were before.
