“I went to the campus clinic and discovered I was thirteen weeks pregnant and out of my first trimester. I’d missed an entire part of my pregnancy. Guilt clawed at me. How could I have not known? I felt so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Wren,” he interrupts, and I shrug. I sure felt stupid at the time.
“They recommended a free clinic not far from campus. That’s where I heard—” I sniffle, voice wavering. “I heard the heartbeat. We made a life. As angry as I was at you, I couldn’t hate you anymore.”
I fidget on my feet, noticing there’s less space between us. Not until Jett’s reaching down and placing his strong hand on top of mine. I jolt at the electricity zapping me from his touch.
Snapping my attention from our joined hands to his piercing eyes, I’m shocked to see them glossy with unshed emotion.
“We took bloodwork, and in the results, I discovered our baby was a girl.” A sob rips from my throat, and Jett flinches. “I was planning on telling my family on Christmas and demanding your parents tell me where exactly you were. I wanted to tell you, Jett. Jesus. I was so hurt over you leaving me, but I couldn’t keep it from you. It didn’t matter in the end, though. Two weeks later, she was gone, and once again, I was left to grieve her loss and you.”
Without a second thought, Jett is pulling me into him. His strong arms wrap around my tiny frame as I sob into his chest. He runs his fingers up and down my spine, rubbing circles and letting me cry. Never once does he try to tell me to stop as I bleed out in front of him.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is roughened with emotion. “I’m so sorry I left you to deal with everything alone.”
I blink, taking in his apology and the regret laced through his words. Looking up at him, I trail the lone tear sliding across his stubble-covered cheek.
“I didn’t want to leave. God, Wren, you were it for me. But when I say I didn’t have a choice, I promise you, I didn’t.”
I shake my head, not wanting to hear this again. Everyone has a choice in life. I try to push my hands against my chest, but he holds me tight before reluctantly letting me go. I pace a few steps back, and he moves to Copper.
Fear ripples through me. “You can’t leave me out here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jett’s hands work on one of the saddlebags on Copper’s saddle. He pulls out an old patchwork blanket.
My shoulders relax as I watch him spread the blanket over the grass. He lowers himself to the ground, bending one knee to rest his elbow on while the other straightens. Tapping the space next to him, he invites me to join. I hesitate.
“C’mon, Whiskey. Sit.”
My head snaps in his direction. It’s been entirely too long since I’ve heard my nickname leave his lips. The one he gave me when we were fourteen, after we snuck a bottle of whiskey into his basement and he told me my eyes reminded him of the liquor.
I take the spot next to him. Our bodies aren’t touching, but I can still feel the warmth of him radiating against me. The late afternoon sun is starting to set in the west as the buzzards circle in a cloudless sky. Their flying feels ominous for what’s to come.
“If I close my eyes, I can still feel the weight of that night I left you,” he says. “No goodbye. No explanation. Just gone.”
I tilt my head, staring at him as more tears build in the corners of my eyes. The painful memories hit me from every direction. “I don’t understand how you could’veleft.”
His voice cracks, the sound ragged. “I swear to you, Wren. That night, after you left the party, I messed up.”
I gasp, covering my mouth as the image of Jett cheating slaps me in the face. “Oh, God, did…did you cheat on me…?”
The words are a whisper, trailing off with the breeze. Jett whips his head in my direction so fast, I’m afraid he’s going to break his neck. “What? Hell no, Wren. There’sonlyever been you.”
I blink, taking in the words. I’m relieved he wasn’t unfaithful, but I’m still confused.
Eyes red-rimmed, he looks into mine. “After you left, the party started to get out of control. Russ showed up with some of his stoner buddies, and the next thing I knew, I was higher than a kite.”
“Okay…it’s not like you were new to weed.”
“I know, but then I got in a car, and it all went to hell. I wasn’t driving, but it didn’t matter. I was as guilty as the driver. We drove up and down Windsor Road, and I took a baseball bat to the mailboxes.”
My eyes widen. “You did what?”
“I was a dumbass, you know that. But we were all messed up and decided to take things to the next level.” He sighs, pulling at a blade of grass. “Ten minutes later, we were being pulled over, and I was in the back of a cop car. Under the influence of drugs and alcohol, I was facing as many charges as they could hit me with—criminal mischief, underage possession and consumption of alcohol and marijuana. I was lucky I wasn’t facing federal charges for the mailboxes. And before I could even process the potential fines and jail time, Dad was standing outside the jail cell with orders, not choices.”
I have no words. I knew Jett was trouble, we all were, but this? This is another level.
“Were you having second thoughts about living with me? Is that why you did it?”
