For a moment, he doesn’t answer. I think maybe he’s going to shut me out completely.
Then, so quietly I almost miss it, he says, “I miss Gio.”
The name hits me like a punch. I sit back, my spine straightening as my throat tightens.
“You do?” I manage.
Jackson nods, his eyes dropping. “Yeah… I thought he was my friend.”
Oh God. My chest aches. I thought I’d prepared myself for this conversation, but hearing the truth from his mouth is different—it’s raw, vulnerable, and heartbroken.
“You and Gio were friends,” I assure him softly. “He adores you.”
Jackson’s head snaps up, his eyes blazing in a way I’ve never seen. “Then why did he just leave? He didn’t even say goodbye.”
He sniffles as if he’s fighting the urge to cry, and it brings stinging tears to my eyes.
“Jackson…” I reach out, but he scoots back, and the rejection burns more than I expect. “That’s not what happened. It wasn’t Gio’s choice.”
“What do you mean?” Jackson frowns.
“It was mine,” I admit. My voice sounds small even to my own ears. “Gio is a very nice person, but… he wasn’t the right fit for our family.”
Jackson stares at me like I’ve just told him the sky is green. “You decided that?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice firm but trembling underneath. “I thought it best for us.”
His face goes red, his lip trembling with a fury I didn’t know he was capable of. “You don’t get to decide who my friends are! You didn’t even talk to me about it! You just made a decision, and now I have to live with it!”
The words hit harder than I expect, not because they’re loud, but because they’re coming from him—my sweet, gentle boy who never raises his voice at anyone.
I swallow hard. “I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Well, you did!” He springs to his feet, fists clenched. “Gio was the best! He took me to soccer games and talked to me about cool stuff. He… he…” His voice breaks. “He wanted to be my friend, and you chased him away!”
I’m frozen, stunned.
Jackson is breathing fast, and before I can find the right words, he bolts for the stairs.
I hear his bedroom door slam, and the echo of it vibrates through my chest.
I stay on the floor for a long time, staring at the scattered LEGOs, and I feel like I’ve failed my son.
When I ended things with Gio—when I told him we couldn’t see each other anymore—I did it to protect Jackson.
My little boy couldn’t possibly know that my decision was one of the hardest I’ve ever had to make.
And it’s been slowly eating away at me ever since, killing me from the inside out because I miss Gio with each agonizing breath.
His absence is a relentless gaping ache in my chest, and I don’t know how to function properly without him.
But when I finally got my memory back, I knew I couldn’t, in good conscience, let Gio back into my life—intoJackson’slife.
Even if Gio isn’t like his father, who ripped my life to shreds just to teach his son a lesson, Gio is still tied to that family, that world. He said it himself.
Still, I have to keep telling myself that I did the right thing.
It’s become something of a mantra in my head that I play on repeat.
