“I’m okay. I think I’m okay,” I said, clarifying because I had no idea how I felt. I was relieved I didn’t have to be afraid of him any longer, but the man I’d been married to for years was dead. I wasn’t sad, per se, but some emotion distressed me, and I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “Can I stay with you and Abby for a little while?”
“Of course, sweetheart. You never have to ask. My home is your home. Always.”
“Thanks, Dad.” His embrace was warm and comforting, the best kind of security. “I’ll walk you out.”
“That’s okay.” He pointed toward Jackson. “It looks like someone needs to talk to you.”
“I’ll see you later, then. I love you,” I said, giving him another hug.
“I love you more.”
After he left, I stayed in the office, trying to comprehend the severity of what he’d told me. One confusing thought after another rattled me, but before I lost myself to another, Jackson walked in.
He looked worse close up. His eyes were bloodshot, and he appeared to have lost some weight. Although, I supposed having a liquid breakfast, lunch, and dinner for days will do that to a person. I’d never seen him drunk, but I was looking at the aftermath, and it wasn’t pretty.
“Is everything okay?” he finally asked, his gaze roving over me from head to toe.
“I don’t know how to answer that.” Before I divulged the news about Mitch, I needed to know one very important thing. “Is it over between us?”
His eyes held mine a beat, the silence sending thick tendrils of dread to burrow into my heart.
“Now I’m the one who’s not sure how to answer,” Jackson responded, a swirl of hesitation averting his gaze from mine, but only briefly.
There was a fifty-fifty chance his response would be the one I didn’t want to hear, and even though he didn’t say it yet, it was coming. Why else would he have answered that way?
I didn’t want to cry. I scolded myself for still having tears left to shed, but the way he assessed me with his fractured gaze, I was powerless to hold back the flood. Broken sobs escaped me, and when he stepped toward me, I backed away.
“No.” I held up my hand and shook my head. “If you’re ending it, just do it.”
“I’m not ending it. I just think we need some space. I have to work through some shit before I can—”
“Space,” I repeated, cutting him off. I wasn’t sure why I was upset, as I felt the same, but somehow him saying it hurt more. “I’ll be staying with my dad and Abby for a while.”
“What’s a while?”
“I don’t know yet,” I answered, wiping my tears as they fell.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
In the span of twenty minutes, I’d learned my ex-husband killed himself and the man I loved dearly needed space from me.
Could my day get any worse?
Jackson stepped to the side so I could leave, but he grabbed my wrist before I could do so.
“Why was your dad here?”
There was no point in dragging out the news. “He stopped by to tell me that Mitch is dead.”
“He’s dead?” Before he said anything else, he raised his hands in the air. “I didn’t have anything to do with it. Although if I knew I could get away with it, I’d probably have gotten rid of him.” A glimmer of the protective Jackson I knew shone through even though the topic was less than desirable.
“He killed himself. My dad said he lost his job and his pension. And he was still dealing with being arrested for attacking me. I guess he figured it was the easiest way out.”
He didn’t gloat or celebrate, which I appreciated. “How are you feeling about it?”
“Weird. Relieved. Guilty because I’m relieved. I don’t know. It’s a lot.”
