Millie
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” JACKSON asked, his face conveying his confusion.
I looked pointedly from him to Kayla and whispered, “Now’s not the time . . .”
Jackson looked down at his daughter, who was watching me with a shocked expression, then brought his gaze back to mine and stated, “I’ll be back.”
I watched numbly as he grasped Kayla and started walking her away from my door and down the hall. I noticed Kayla still watching me as I quietly shut the door, crossed to my chaise, and resumed the position I’d been in.
Fetal.
Sobs erupted again as decades-old sorrow filled me, compounded by the fresh pain I was feeling now.
It felt like only moments before rapid knocking sounded at the door, like gunfire to my heart, and I rose, my stomach sinking at the thought of what I was about to do.
What I had to do . . .
I opened the door without looking, without waiting to acknowledge who was there, and spun on my heel to go back to my couch, my safe haven. I crawled back on my chaise, pulled a throw pillow on my lap, and hugged it, along with my knees, to my chest, as a sort of armor. Only then did I force my eyes to see Jackson, who’d grabbed the tissues off my table and was holding them out to me.
His kindness only made me cry harder.
“Jesus, Millie,” Jackson bit out, his hand going through his hair so hard he was practically pulling it. “What is going on?”
I did my best to pull myself together, realizing that the faster I got this over with, the faster he would be gone, and I would no longer have to face his perfection in person, I would only be left with the reminder.
Once I felt capable of forming sentences, I used one tissue to mop up my face, then another to blow my nose, before taking a deep breath and starting straight ahead as I spoke.
“Kayla isn’t ready for this,” I began, my voice hoarse. “I should have known when we started. I guess I did know, at least I’d had reservations about you still being married . . . but I should have known that Kayla wasn’t ready for you to seriously date anyone else.”
“Millie,” Jackson began, obviously upset and wanting to contradict what I was saying, but I kept talking.
“Please, let me get this out.”
When he was silent, I continued, “She hates me. I mean, not me, because she doesn’t know me, but she hates the thought of me. Of what I represent. First her mom left, now it’s just been confirmed that she doesn’t have any plans to come back, so, of course, Kayla is going to latch even harder on to you, and view anyone who could compete with her for your attention as a threat. She needs time . . .”
I could tell Jackson was biting his tongue. He wanted to speak so badly that he was squirming in his seat next to me, but being the wonderful man that he is, he respected my wishes.
Shit.
I took another deep breath.
“When we were little, our dad cheated on our mom, then left us to be with the other woman and never came back. He didn’t say goodbye, or tell the three of us anything, and we’ve never heard from him again. Tasha was angry, kind of like Kayla is now, while Dru pretended nothing happened. I, was devastated. I was Daddy’s little girl, one hundred percent.” I was barely whispering now, caught back up in the memories. The pain. “He used to take me everywhere with him. To work, fishing, poker night, to all his favorite restaurants. He’s the one who introduced my love of food. When my mom told us that he’d left, I didn’t believe her at first. My daddy wouldn’t do that, so I waited. I waited, and waited, and waited, and he didn’t come back. That first day I slept on the front porch, my mom crying with me as she held me in her arms.”
Jackson scooted a little closer, then stopped, and I knew he was having a hard time keeping his distance.
I turned my face toward him and finally looked in his eyes. He was hurting for me. With me.
“Then I blamed my mother. I was awful to her, just horrible, and she took it. She kept being there for me, holding me while I screamed and cried. Eventually, I became numb. I stopped waiting, stopped looking for him everywhere, and told everyone at school that he’d died. I guess in a way, to me, he was dead.”
After a few moments of silence, Jackson finally spoke up and said, “I’m so sorry, Millie. How old were you?”
I held his gaze as I replied, “Eight.”
Jackson nodded, understanding my point.
“I’m sorry that you went through that, and you were in so much pain, but did it have any bearing on what you felt for your mom when she started dating again?” he asked.
I smiled sadly and shook my head.
“She never did. My mom never went on a date, never brought a man over to meet us, heck, she never even kissed anyone else. He broke her completely. She gave us ninety nine percent of herself for the rest of her days on this earth, but that one percent was always reserved for him.”
“Again, I’m sorry, and I understand your pain, your reservations, but this isn’t that,” Jackson argued as he moved just a little closer.
“Yes, you’ve been separated for a year, but you kept your ring on and your home exactly the same as it had been when your wife was there. I bet all of her things still hang in the closet.” I paused, and when he didn’t protest, I knew I was right. “The divorce isn’t even completed yet, and you and I are hurtling pretty quickly toward a serious relationship. You may be ready for that, but Kayla isn’t. She was still hoping that her mom was going to come home, and she needs more time to come to terms with the fact that Julie isn’t, before she can open herself up to a new woman in your lives.”
“Millie, look, everything your saying has merit,” Jackson said as he stood and began pacing, his tone frantic. “But Kayla will be okay. I’ll talk to her, and we can ease her into it slowly . . .”
“There’s nothing you can say right now that will change my mind,” I said sadly, my eyes filling once again.
Jackson stopped and crouched in front of me, his hands covering mine gently.
“Not even that I’m in love with you?” he asked, causing my heart to shatter.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head.
“Not even that,” I managed, then turned my head and shut my eyes, not opening them again until I heard my door softly shut behind him.