Page 75 of What If It Was Us
My throat was on fire; it was taking everything in me to keep it together.
“I want to do the right thing here,” he said with his arms splayed out.
“The right thing would be to end it. Call it quits if you don’t want to get married!”
“I can’t!” He screamed it so loud I flinched back. He looked wounded; I could see the tears in his eyes as his face softened. “I can’t,” he whispered this time. “I asked her to marry me, okay? I can’t hurt her like before. I was horrible to her back then, and I can’t be that guyagain. And I’m so tired of constantly hurting you. The one time I tried to do the right thing for you, it hurt you.”
He didn’t even say he wanted to marry her because he loved her. It was just his way of making amends for his past actions. That cut me even deeper. He was choosing her over me.
I couldn’t stop myself from crying then. I had no idea what he was talking about when he said he was trying to do the right thing for me; he’s always hurt me.
“When, huh? When the fuck did you ever try to do the right thing for me? All you’ve ever done is hurt me, Jackson. And I’m dumb enough to still want you!”
A tear fell down his jaw.Ha!I thought. He needs to hurt, too—to suffer this pain. He would never hurt as deeply as I did.
He let out a painful sob, and my eyes widened. I had never seen Jackson cry before in all the time I’d known him.
“I did, Addie,” he cried, sitting down on the curb and placing his hands over his face as his shoulders bounced with his sobs. “I came for you that night. When you called me after graduation, I did come. I tried.” He was looking at me now, face raw and red as more tears trickled down his face.
I was frozen to the ground. I didn’t think I could take another step if I tried.
“I crashed the truck on my way to you. I was drinking too much at the senior party. That’s why I never showed. That’s why, okay? And I knew I wasn’t a person who deserved you if I was too drunk to be there when you needed me.”
I stayed standing, crying as I watched him sit there. I was pained and hurt and just taking it all in.
The scar through his eyebrow. Being sober for the past five years. The new front bumper on the truck. Everything was starting to make sense.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you, Addie. But I can’t cheat on Sophie. It’s not right.” He wiped his cheeks before standing up, taking two long strides until his arms were wrapped around me.
I sunk into him, letting myself continue to cry as he enveloped me. “I love you. I promise I love you. I’ve never stopped.”
I couldn’t even say it back because the sound of a car door slamming broke us apart from each other. I looked up and froze. The worst possible person that could’ve heard that conversation was stalking toward us, her gaze sizzling with fury. She wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow.
My blood ran cold when I heard Sophie say, “What the fuck is going on?”
Chapter 35
BEFORE
May, Ten Years ago
By the time we got to Jackson’s house for the barbecue, the rain had already stopped. I ignored Julie’s eyes on me as we filled our plates, and throughout the meal. She wasn’t one to keep her opinions to herself, and I knew she wanted to confront me about catching me and Jackson hooking up.
I was on a high from finally getting with Jackson, and I didn’t want a conversation with Julie to ruin it. I also didn’t want to be the one to admit that we planned to leave at the end of summer. Who knew, maybe we would end up in California with her. We could go anywhere we wanted.
After we’d sat outside with his family for a while, Jackson claimed that he wanted to play the drums so we could have an excuse to hang out alone in his room. We knew Julie wouldn’t follow us, because she couldn’t stand the noise.
When we got to his room though, I actuallydidwant him to play the drums for me, and he obliged without making me beg.
He let me watch him as he played “Misery Business” by Paramore, and I sang along as I bopped my head to the music. I had been waiting too long to sing this song and mean it.
Jackson knew it, too, because he would smirk up at me every chance he got. He was drenched in sweat after, from the exertion as well as the heat of graduation and the barbecue, so he left to take a shower before joining me back in his bedroom.
We sat on Jackson’s bed, our backs against the wall and our legs criss-crossed as we signed each other’s yearbooks.
His index finger kept tentatively touching my outer thigh, and with each stroke of his finger, he got closer and closer to the hem of my dress. I couldn’t focus on anything when he was touching me like that.
“You’re distracting me. I can’t think of anything to write,” I said, even though I didn’t move his hand away. I didn’t want him to stop. I had waited too long to have him touch me like this without feeling like it was wrong.
