I curl up under my covers, and I read the letter Jaxon wrote to me.
It’s beautiful—exactly the kind of letter you’d expect from someone who writes chart-topping country songs. Tears start to fall when I reach a part that says, “I never meant to hurt you. Honestly, I didn’t think my absence would still matter to you fifteen years later. But I should’ve known. Because you still matter to me. I convinced myself that you—like my dad—saw me as an annoying kid who you were stuck dealing with. But in reality, I knew better. I knew our friendship was real.”
A sob breaks free when I read: “I know the silence probably hurt the most. But if I’d talked to you—if I’d heard your voice—I would’ve come back. And we both know I couldn’t become the person I needed to be if I stayed.”
I can feel my walls crashing down around me, and it's a particularly unpleasant feeling. Becca comes in after one of my louder sobs escapes, asking, “Are you okay?”
“Honestly?” I croak. “I'm not sure.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I shake my head, but then say anyway, “I think I might forgive him.”
Chapter fourteen
Jaxon
Iamgettingcloserto finishing the song for the Lupus Foundation benefit—finally. It’s not the best thing I’ve written, but it’s better than nothing. I would feel terrible letting down anyone, but as a long-time supporter and someone who’s been so impacted by the disease, I’m particularly close to the Lupus Foundation and their CEO, Alex Anderson.
As soon as Leo picked me up at Izzy’s, the words and melody were flowing out of me so quickly, my hand started cramping as I tried to write it all down.
Unfortunately, I realized what I’d written early in the week was mostly garbage, so I had to throw it out and start again. What I wrote last night is far better.
Though, this morning when I sat down to work on the melody, nothing came. I was stuck with the silence I’ve been in for the last eighteen months.
After throwing a bit of a fit, which may have involved screaming “Fuck!” at the top of my lungs, I decided to go for a jog.
It didn’t help.
Which is why I’m now hiding around the side of Izzy’s house, ready to spring out with my latest surprise since she wasn’t home when I got here.
“Yes, JJ Swanson.” Izzy’s voice comes from the street, and my ears perk up at the name of a guy from the class above ours in high school.
“He’s a complete dick,” Becca says. “Why would you want to go out with him?”
I recognize I should let them know I’m here. Now I really am acting like a stalker, but the truth is, I want to know the answer to Becca’s question too. JJ was an asshole in high school, and I doubt he suddenly became someone good enough for Izzy.
Not that anyone is good enough for Izzy.
“You know why, Becca.”
“I think that’s a horrible reason to go on a date with JJ. He’s a slime bag.”
“I hear you, but it’ll be okay. He’s my only option.”
How is JJ Swanson Izzy’s only option? What in the actual fuck is wrong with the men in this town if Izzy somehow believes that to be true?
Except…I’m also in this town.
And maybe I’m an option.
I cough as I walk out from behind the house, feeling ridiculous with the large, colorful bouquet of flowers and twenty-four balloons I’m holding.
Becca screams while Izzy yells, “What the fuck?!”
When they both realize it’s me, their expressions change into identical masks of irritation.
“Sorry. Meant to surprise you, not scare you,” I say.
