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Rose
A YEAR LATER
We’d been moving all day. It might have taken Jackson and me a little while to finally get the white picket fence, but he’d been adamant about not taking handouts from Kyle, and he’d been right.
So we’d worked our asses off, and the gym was doing amazing. Business was good. But life was better.
Kicking my feet up on a stack of boxes, I reached for a slice of pizza. We’d gotten most of the boxes unpacked, and now it was time to Netflix and chill.
“Hey,” Remy grumped, eyeing me hard and curling his body over the box. “Get your own.”
Remy was spending the night. Babette, Jackson’s mom, had gone out with a group of friends. Wish I could say that her behavior was getting better, but it wasn’t. It was like the moment she’d realized I was there to keep an eye on Remy, the woman had sunk headlong into her demons.
“Get your own,” Jackson said with a pop to the back of Remy’s head before hopping over the couch, sliding into place beside me, and snatching another slice of cheese pizza.
He took an obnoxious bite out of it, much to his brother’s chagrin.
The two devolved into a spat of one-upmanship, which just had me laughing like a braying ass. First time Jackson had heard me laugh, like the I’m-really-tickled kind of laugh, he’d almost pissed himself from laughing so hard.
Yeah, I easily had hands down the most obnoxious sound in the world, but he’d called it cute, and well... He’d made it his personal goal in life to get that sound out of me any chance he got.
Adam looked at me, asking with his eyes what was wrong with them, and I shrugged.
“Don’t know, kid. I think they’re really aliens in disguise.”
“We heard that,” Jackson growled before pulling my hand toward his mouth and taking another obnoxious bite of pizza.
This time mine.
“Ohh, you jerk,” I hissed, curving my hand and ready to attack him for it when his phone rang.
Chuckling, he held up his hand, strong neck muscles working as he chewed quickly and stared down at the screen in confusion.
“Who’s—” Remy asked, but Jackson was shaking his head.
And my body instantly went on high alert, jerking up from my seat as I swallowed hard, knowing deep down something was really, really wrong.
“Hello?” he asked a second later, body tense.
The room grew so quiet you could literally hear a pin drop. And because of that, I could hear the man on the other end of the line.
“Are you Jackson Moore?” the authoritative voice asked.
I clutched my hands tight to my chest.
“Yes,” Jackson said, voice clipped, and I could hear the fear behind it.
“Do you know a Babette Moore?”
The phone dropped from Jackson’s hands and a blank look entered his eyes. Swooping in, I picked it up.
“Yes. Yes, he does. What’s happened to his mother?”
“Who are you, ma’am?”
“I’m...” Flicking my eyes toward his suddenly pale face, I croaked, “His wife. I’m his wife, Rose.”
I wasn’t. But I didn’t think they’d give me the information otherwise.
Heart pounding so hard I could practically taste it, I waited for him to respond.
“Ma’am, I’m calling to report that his mother’s been rushed to Queen’s Memorial for alcohol poisoning and asphyxiation.”
“Oh my god,” I whispered, panicking when Jackson suddenly collapsed into the couch, staring straight ahead with sightless eyes.
Remy was so still. So white.
“Okay. Okay, we’ll be there soon. Thank you.”
I don’t know how I did it or where I found the strength. But somehow I got Jackson up and into the car, Remy and Adam following close behind me.
“S’okay, baby,” I whispered to all of them as I drove several miles over the speed limit, desperate to get them there. To see her. “She’s gonna be fine. I promise. She’s gonna be fine.”
Jackson clutched my hand, his fingers like ice. And I wished to God I really believed what I was saying, but I didn’t. Not at all.
An hour later, we were still waiting to find out anything. The only thing we knew was she was in intensive care and they were working on stabilizing her.
Jackson was chugging black coffee, barely looking at me.
Adam had curled into my lap, and even Remy was leaning on my shoulder, features pinched with exhaustion.
It was past eleven, neither of those boys needed to be here right now. There was literally nothing their presence here could do.
Making a decision, I yanked my phone out of my pocket and dialed.
Kyle answered on the second ring.
“Rosie? Is everything—”
“Jackson’s mom is in the hospital,” I said, cutting him off. “Alcohol-related issues. It’s bad, Kyle. And the boys—”
“I’ll be right there.”
Jackson looked at me, nodding, telling me he understood, thanking me.
An hour later Kyle rushed in, looking harried. His shirt was askew and he wore maroon sweatpants, his hair damp as if I’d caught him right before bed. Taking us in, he nodded at Jackson, shaking hands with him.
“How is she?”
I shook my head. But it was Jackson who answered. “Still nothing.”
“Damn,” Kyle said with a sharp twist of his lips. Then, noticing that Adam had passed out on me, he held out his hands.
Grateful, I handed him over. Kyle hugged him tight when he started to squirm, reaching out to me in his sleep.
“Go back to sleep, buddy,” he said softly, rubbing soothing circles down his back. Then he looked at Remy. “Come on, man. I promise the second your brother hears anything, I’ll bring you right back if you want me to.”
It was funny seeing Kyle in this role. Somehow we were making this blended family work. Kyle was coming around a lot more, even canceling membership at his gym and joining ours.
It was crazy, but he and Jackson were developing some sort of weird bromance too. Never in my life would I have imagined it, but there it was... Miracles happened.
“Thanks, man,” Jackson said with a grunt and a grateful nod.
“Of course.” He nodded, looked back at me. “If you need anything else—”
“Believe me, this is more than enough. Take them to bed.”
Leaning in, I kissed his cheek, more grateful than he could imagine right now. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped hating him. Kyle was turning into the kind of guy I’d always known he could be. He’d just taken the long and bumpy road getting there.
I hoped someday he’d find someone too.
He sort of deserved it.
“All right. Well, you guys let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
Only after the three of them had walked away did Jackson finally speak up. “Can’t believe I actually like that shithead.”
Grateful he was making a joke, even knowing how much pain he was in, I chuckled low. “Yeah, I know. Whodda thunk, right?”
He sniffed, closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.
“She’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”
Sighing deeply, he clung to my hand, holding tight. “I can’t do this anymore, Rose. I can’t keep getting gutted like this, wondering when it’s finally going to happen. When I’m gonna lose her too.”
I swallowed hard.
I knew what’d happened to his mom. Why she’d spiraled like this. It hurt me and made me aware that Jackson and I would probably never take that walk down the aisle.
It was just a rock, a piece of paper. Nothing compared to what we actually had. But I wanted him. Wanted to marry him. And I wanted him not to be afraid of it because of her.
The room was thinning out; it was just us and one other person. An older man, snoring softly on a couch over by the wall. The room was glowing a dim yellow, and I was feeling our long and busy day. But I wasn’t leaving him.
Leaning my head against his shoulder, I closed my eyes and curled my legs up under my butt, content to just listen to him breathe.
“When he died, she died too. That kind of love, Rosie... It’s a fucking cancer.”
Tensing, I looked up at him, at the column of his throat working furiously as he fought the tears.
I’d only seen Jackson cry twice, and I knew he was fighting it now. It hurt me; I didn’t want to see him this way.
“I know,” I said softly, “that you think that’s us, but—”
“No.” His fingers curled tight over my hip. “I don’t.”
I frowned.
“It’s not us, Rose. I live for you. You’re carved in me. Part of me. The best parts. But we’ve got our kids—”
My heart warmed to hear him call Remy and Adam that, because that’s exactly what they were to me too.
“—and they mean the world to me too. Rosie, if I ever die, you have to promise me that you’ll live. That you won’t give up and forget. Because forgetting also means forgetting me. Don’t do that, baby.”
Curving my palm over his cheek, I shook my head. “I will always love you, and you are me. But Jackson, that kind of love is selfish. And I don’t want to be cruel,” I hastened to say when he flinched, “but you and I both know it. Because she still has your father.” I pressed my palm to his chest. “In you. And I have you, in Remy. And someday, hopefully, in our children. I love you, Jackson, but—”
“Marry me,” he said, voice thick, tears swimming in his eyes.
I jerked. “What? Are you s-sure?”
“I know you think I’m just saying this because of Mom, but life is so fucking fragile. I don’t want to waste any more of it. Marry me, Rosie. Make an honest man out of me.”
And I hopped up on my knees, kissing his face. His cheeks. Then finally his lips, slow and sweet, before whispering against his mouth. “Just say when, Jackson, and I’ll be there with bells on.”
He hugged me tight, squeezing the air from my lungs, but I didn’t care. I loved him so much and I always would.
The door opened and a nurse in blue scrubs came in, looking at the two of us. “Jackson Moore?”
Standing, drawing me up with him, he nodded, his eyes wide, heart beating powerfully beneath my palm.
And then she smiled wide and I knew it was gonna be okay.
Even before she said it, I was breathing easy again.
“Your mom is just fine. She’s sleeping, but she’s good. She made it.”
“I wanna see her,” he said.
“Of course.”
She led us to a room down the hall. Our footsteps were quiet, hushed. And when we walked in, I saw Babette. So small, so frail.
A woman broken by love.
I clutched my future husband’s hand tighter, letting him know I was there. Was never going anywhere.
And we sat and watched her.
“Someday she’s gonna be good again,” he said softly before tossing me a look. “And you’re gonna love her, Rose. I know you will.”
“I already do, Jackson. Because she’s a part of you and now me.”
“I love you, cupcake.”
I grinned. “I know.”
He chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “She’s gonna love you too. It’s impossible not to.”
And I knew that was true too.
This was my life.
I’d fought, clawed my way up from the darkness, and so had he. We’d met when the time was exactly right. Not a second before, not a second later. Looking up, he and I, and seeing in each other the other half of our perfect selves.
Life was messy, full of ups and downs, heartbreak and joy. But every part of it had to be lived to its very fullest. Because you could never appreciate the good times without knowing just how bad the bad times could get.
Jackson was my light and I was his, and we were always gonna shine bright in that darkness. For him. For me. For each other.