Jackson is safe.
He’s here.
He’smine.
Another word that hits me square in the chest.
And I’m still trying to earn that, trying to be the man who deserves someone like him. He makes it easy to believe I can be. He reaches for me when he’s nervous or seems haunted by memories. He sleeps curled around me at night or me around him. He trusts me to be there when he needs me.
He trusted me before anyone else did.
But now they know.
Now the entire town knows that I wasn’t the one who hurt Dylan, that wherever he is now, he didn’t run because of me.
It was the absolution that I had been longing for for five years, one that Jackson figured out a way to get for me. I never would’ve asked him to pay the price he did for it, but I’ll spend the rest of my life honoring that debt in whatever ways I can.
The investigation into our relationship was dropped as well since Richard had been the one to open it in the first place. His motives didn’t survive scrutiny.
And then there’s Elijah.
Knowing a little more about what happened to him that night all those years ago doesn’t bring me any closure. I honestly don’t know if having some idea of it makes it better or worse. I wish there was more I could do. I wish I could call him and tell him justice had been served, that the man who hurt him won’t hurt anyone else, that maybe he could even come home if he wanted to. That there will always be space for him here.
But the truth is, I’ve lived too long with the certainty of his absence to hold faith in his return.
Nothing’s really changed.
So I’ve let it go.
I’m trying to be better about not being a prisoner to the things I can’t change.
For once, it’s nice to not have to worry about anything more detrimental than getting this stack of papers graded and deciding what Jackson and I are cooking for dinner tonight.
The floor creaks outside my office, and my heart hitches in recognition before I even see him. My head jerks up as there’s a soft knock on my door. Jackson leans in, cheeks pink from the cold and hair ruffled like he hasn’t bothered to tame it all day.
He smiles when he sees me. I was already smiling the moment I heard him, but it brightens in response to his.
As he enters the room and closes the door behind him, I stand and round my desk. We meet in the middle of my office, our arms quickly finding their way around each other. I hold him to me and press a kiss to his temple.
“You’ve held me in suspense all day, sweetheart,” I say as I take a step back and meet his gaze. “Are you going to tell me what happened this morning?”
“I uh…” His brow dips like he still can’t believe it. “I ran into Pierce.”
My jaw tightens. “Did he—”
The rest of the question dies in my throat as my heart rate stutters and my shoulders tense. My gaze flies over Jackson, searching for bruises or blood or anything out of place. But there’s nothing.
I swallow hard. “What did he do?”
“He apologized.”
I blink. And blink again.
“Pierce Grant apologized to you?”
Jackson lets out a breathy, disbelieving laugh and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. He apologized for being an asshole and said he doesn’t want to be like his father. It was like…he was trying to rewrite himself in front of me.”
I take my previous step back, standing in front of him and watching the wonder on his face, the way it softens something in him that had been tense all week.
