To Say Goodbye (21 page)

“If you need anything, call me. We’ll talk later.”

She scurried out the door, off to her car. He took a deep breath, weighing what had just happened, still shocked, enraged, and confused. He looked up, ready to return to his cooking, to push the whole encounter out of his mind, when he saw Sophia standing in the hallway, dressed in the same clothes from the night before.

She also had the suggestion of tears in her eyes. She eyed him cautiously but with a peaceful look on her face.

“I should go,” she said, somberly turning to get her things.

“Sophia, wait. Why?” He rushed to her side, spinning her around. The tears were flowing.

“You should go back to her, Jackson. You’d get to be with your son. You can’t throw that out.”

“How can you even suggest that? I love you. We’re just getting started. I don’t love her anymore.”

“Think about Logan. Isn’t this what you wanted? To have him back? Isn’t that more important than whatever this is between us?”

He was taken aback by her words, surprised by how hurtful they were. “Whatever this is? What’s that mean?”

“It means, Jackson, we’ve had fun, sure. But do you really think we can be something more than... this? How could we ever make this work, especially now? How could I be with you knowing if it weren’t for me, you could be with your son? I won’t come between you and him.”

“Sophia, this is ridiculous. I’m not going back to Chloe. We can be together and work out things with my son.”

“I won’t do this. There’s too much at stake. We knew this was a bad idea from the beginning. We both tried to fight it because we knew it was wrong. Here’s another sign, another reason, we shouldn’t be together.”

He tried to stop her, to pull her back to him both literally and figuratively.

She was already gone.

“What’s happened? Just a few minutes ago, we were great, more than great.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor. “Things
are
great, Jackson. I meant every word. I love being with you. I love you. But this, this is just a bad idea. We can’t make this work in the long run, not with Chloe, and my feelings for Tim, and everything working against us.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, avoiding his gaze. When she finally looked up at him, tears in her eyes, she spoke so softly he could barely hear her. “Thank you for everything,” she said as if he were a grocery store clerk who had just finished ringing up her order instead of the man she’d professed to love just a few hours ago.

“Sophia, wait,” he begged as she grabbed Henry from the sofa and headed out the door, chin up and footsteps confident. She’d made up her mind.

He slammed his fist on the counter, rage taking over. Chloe had fucked everything up in his life yet again. He’d lost the shard of hope he’d just found, and for what?

Last night, he’d made a breakthrough with Sophia, had finally helped her settle into the idea of a life with him. Now it was gone. Like a wisp of a dandelion in the merciless hands of a reckless child, the safety of their relationship was gone, with the whirlwind of Chloe’s reappearance.

His heart undoubtedly belonged to Sophia. But now, the doubt he’d worked tirelessly to help her overcome was revived, and he didn’t know if he could combat it this time. He felt like he was standing in the middle of a swinging blade, recklessly flying back and forth between “yes” and “no” with Sophia.

Now, the blade lowered, ready to land right on the neck of its victim.

Maybe Sophia was right. Maybe they just weren’t meant to be.

SOPHIA

Y
ou did the right thing,
Sophia told herself when she arrived home to the empty house. She’d only been gone a day, but it smelled stagnant like an abandoned property. It felt cold and lonely.

Better get used to it,
she thought.

She hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop, had felt completely inappropriate doing so. She’d just turned off the shower, basking in the happiness of the night. She’d finally felt at peace in her heart, in her soul. For a long time after Tim’s death, she’d felt like she’d never be okay again. Love was certainly not a consideration. Her heart had blackened with death when she saw his casket lowered into the ground.

Jackson, though, had changed that. It wasn’t just his killer looks or his sexy stubble. It wasn’t the way his muscular arms made her feel safe or the tender way he kissed her. It was in his heart, in the way he saw what she needed before she even did. It was in the way he respected her past while also wanting her to see the future.

It was just him.

As she’d towel-dried her hair in his bathroom, she smiled, thinking she’d turned a corner in grief. She knew she hadn’t come to the end of the long, tenuous stretch of road called grief. There would still be many more turnarounds and potholes. Still, she felt like with Jackson by her side, she would get through. She could survive the loss of Tim.

She could love again.

She had thought she’d heard Jackson talk to someone, but dismissed the idea as she dressed. She heard his voice rising, though, heard someone in the kitchen, and her curiosity was piqued. She’d cracked the bathroom door slightly, her ear to the crack to listen and to gauge the situation.

That’s when she’d heard her. A woman.

She still hadn’t jumped to any conclusions. In fact, she’d thought about closing the door and primping for a while, giving him his privacy.

She couldn’t. Because she’d heard the word, the pesky four-letter word she’d recently said to Jackson.

Love.

So she listened in, assessing the situation. As she did, the peaceful calmness surrounding their relationship subsided to something else—the resurgence of uncertainty panging in her heart.

Tears threatened to form, but she told herself to stop being ridiculous. She had no claim to Jackson other than a few romantic date nights and some promised I love yous under the false pretense of romance. True, there was certainly something building between them, something promising to bring both of them out of the darkness. True, she did love him, a love she hadn’t expected, a love she’d refused to recognize at first.

But here was the offer to truly resurrect Jackson’s life. This was what he wanted, what he needed more than he needed her.

His son back.

He’d loved Chloe once, from what she gathered. Here was the promise Logan’s custody could stop being in limbo, that Jackson could get back the thing that rightfully mattered most—his son.

She inhaled deeply, knowing what she had to do. Her heart pounded with the loss already, her chest heavy with a different kind of grief than before.

So this was what a broken heart felt like, one not caused by the grasp of death but by the grasp of another’s heart instead. In truth, it wasn’t a whole lot different. Except at least in this case, she knew Jackson would be happy.

We might not have worked anyway,
she convinced herself, reaffirming her steadfast decision to walk away.
This could have just been a rebound fling for both of us. It was fun while it lasted.

Even as she said the words internally, she knew they held no merit. This was not a rebound or a fling. This was not a cheap excuse for a relationship. This, her heart told her, was the real deal, as real as her love had been for Tim.

It didn’t matter. She had to walk away.

Slumping on the sofa, alone, only Henry there to comfort her, tears drenched her cheeks. She’d done the right thing. It didn’t mean, however, her heart had to accept it as the right thing.

She closed her eyes, the pain surging now for two lost men.

For the millionth time since Tim died, she felt utterly lost and hopeless. She felt, as she did on the day she watched her soul mate buried in the unforgiving ground, as if she wanted to curl up and die. Deciding this wasn’t healthy in any way, she did what she always did when she was hurting, or lost, or confused.

_______________

“Hey, Chica, what’re you doing here? You have the day off,” Stella said as she held up a curling iron on a middle-aged woman’s head. The salon had a few customers waiting in the front area, but it was relatively quiet.

Sophia painted on the chipper, fake smile she was used to. “Oh, you know, I was bored. Wanted to come in and get some stuff organized.”

Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine. Really,” Sophia assured, busying her hands at the front desk.

Stella didn’t argue, continuing to work on the lady’s hair. Sophia fiddled with the appointment book, offered some lemonade to the waiting customers, and just generally kept herself busy.

A few hours later, Stella had finished working on the final customer. After he left, Stella almost burst.

“Okay, spill,” she demanded, handing Sophia the bag of Swedish Fish and motioning to the chair.

“Jackson and I are over,” she whispered, figuring there was no use lying to her friend. Stella was relentless when she wanted information.

“Why? What happened?”

“I ended it.”

“Are you crazy? You finally seemed happy. Head over heels, obnoxiously so. I thought you guys had finally rounded a corner? What happened?”

Sophia stared ahead, shoving a few pieces of the familiar candy into her mouth. She chewed the sticky fish, swallowed and then told Stella the entire sordid tale.

Stella sat, speechless, once she’d heard about the carriage ride, the scrapbook, and finally, the Chloe situation.

“Well?” Sophia asked, looking at her friend who was rocking side to side in the salon chair.

“Well, I think you’re nuts.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you understand?”

“No. Not at all. Because obviously he doesn’t want to be with her, Soph. He loves you. I mean, come on, a carriage ride? What kind of man arranges that if his heart isn’t in it?”

“It’s not a question of whether or not his heart is in it. It’s that it can’t be, not if he wants a life with his son.”

“There are other ways to see his son. The appeal, remember?”

“I don’t know, Stella. I just didn’t want to be the one to mess up his life.”

“So you mess up his life by walking away from the great thing you have going?”

“He’ll be fine.”

“You’re not giving yourself any credit. You think Jackson is helping you. You can’t see how you’re helping him, too. So by walking away from him, you’ve hurt him in the worst way.”

“No. I gave him a chance to have a normal life back.”

“Normal is overrated. Trust me.”

“I just wanted to do the right thing.”

“I think you just didn’t want to be happy.”

“Excuse me?” Sophia scowled now.

“You heard me. You’re sabotaging yourself. You’re afraid to be happy because you think it’ll mean your relationship with Tim meant nothing. So you’re using this as an excuse.”

“No, I’m not. You have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Soph, it’s me. I’ve known you for years. I’ve seen you lie to clients about hairstyles looking good on them so long I know your tell.”

“And what is my
tell
?”

“You tap a hand against your leg.”

Sophia looked down. Her hand was tapping a quiet pattern on her thigh.

“Dammit.”

Stella smiled. “What are best friends for, huh? Now stop being a damn idiot. Go tell him you were stupid, and get him back.”

Sophia shook her head, exhaling in frustration. “I can’t do it.” Tears threatened Sophia’s eyes again. “You’re right. I was happy with him. And you’re right. This isn’t about Chloe. I can’t just move on with him. Chloe was a good excuse. But how can I move on with him when my husband’s in a hole in the ground? Why do I deserve to have love again, a full life, when Tim doesn’t get any of that?”

Stella rose now, embracing her friend. “You’re right. Tim didn’t deserve to die. But Soph, you can’t change that, and you can’t just give up your life, too. He wouldn’t want that.”

They embraced in silence for a long moment.

“That’s it. I’m tired of this sob fest,” Stella said, heading to her bag to get her phone. She dialed a few numbers, held the phone to her ear and said, “Hey, I can’t make it tonight. I’m having a girls’ night.”

Sophia furrowed her eyebrows, trying to decode Stella’s actions.

“I love you, too,” she continued, then hung up the phone.

“Stella, what are you doing? Why are you canceling on Larry?”

Stella held up a finger, dialed her phone again, and waited for the party on the other line to answer.

“Yes, I would like a quart of chicken broccoli, a pint of lo mein, and an order of your wonton soup, please. Uh-huh. Yep. Stella Major. Yep. See you in ten.”

Stella grinned and her huge, toothy grin told Sophia she had plans.

“Get your stuff together. We’ve got Chinese food to pick up and movies to watch.”

“What are you doing?”

“We are having a girls’ night. No talk of boyfriends and sappy crap. Just you, me, some
Bruce Almighty, The Hangover,
and maybe even some
American Pie
.”

Sophia wanted to argue, to tell Stella she shouldn’t be canceling her date just for her. But the thought of a night of funny movies, Chinese, and her best friend warmed her heart. She couldn’t resist.

“Sounds amazing. I love you,” she said as she lifted herself out of the chair, tossing the empty Swedish Fish bag in the trash.

“Love you back. Now, let’s get moving. I can’t wait to get my hands on that handsome little man Henry. I hope he sits with me.”

“He will if you give him some lo mein.”

They headed out the door, locking up Pink Lemonade. Sophia had known a trip to her shop would cheer her up. It always did the trick.

SOPHIA

T
he weeks passed. Despite Stella’s pleading with Sophia to talk to Jackson, she refused. She was doing the right thing, even if it didn’t feel like it. Her heart ached for Jackson, but she wouldn’t give in. This was what was best.

Jackson hadn’t given up on her yet, his stubborn nature underscored by his incessant attempts to contact her. There’d been at least one phone call or text each day from him. There had been a night when he’d knocked on her door.