CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: JASON

Nothing will ever be the same.

Those words weren't written on the banners that were scattered through Martin Prep, congratulating the seniors on the impending graduation. The yearbooks hadn't been passed out, the final pages lamenting that we'd never haunt these halls again; parties would be upgraded from undercover things when parents were on vacation to keggers in dorm rooms and frat houses. The timer was on, ticking away until youthful indiscretion would no longer fly; until trust funds were obliterated. Then we'd settle down with women that looked good on paper, teeth glittering in the society pages—and the vicious cycle would continue.

My eyes dropped to her belly, then tiptoed back to her gaze. Those words were right there in the blue. And it had nothing to do with graduation. Truth be told, I think both of us stopped thinking about diplomas and freshman year at Ivy Leagues when that plastic stick changed our lives forever.

Even though we were in the den (my call, to usher her away from my mother's piercing, judgmental glare), the sound of a woman I knew had never done a dish in her life cut through the silence. Porcelain and glass clanged together, wooden doors slammed shut echoing through my bones, a hollow reminder that there was no such thing as privacy in this house. No corners left to hide away secrets. And in a month, she wouldn't be able to hide the curve of her belly, either.

I knew that my mother paused long enough to crane her head in our direction, hoping for a whiff of our conversation. Hell, I was surprised she hadn't installed a camera in here. To keep an eye on me. To monitor Dad's porn consumption when he locked himself in here for hours on end.

I smiled to myself when I was the one making the noise, slamming our door shut. Picturing the indignant flare of my mother's nostrils.

I wheeled back to Cassidy and my smile evaporated. Not even thinking, forgetting that letting my guard down was what put us in this mess in the first place, I gripped her shoulders, my eyes searching hers. Eyes that used to make me feel like I was the best thing that ever happened to her. That made me want to admit that she was the best thing that ever happened to me. Now, they just looked tired. Too tired to even look at me.

"What's wrong?" My voice came out funny. Too rough. Too filled with the distance that I'd put between us when she told me about the...

The...

I swallowed and pretended like it wasn't still impossible for me to say the word. "Talk to me."

That garnered a reaction, the blue gold in her eyes flashing like lightning. "We were never very good at talking, Jason. That was kind of the problem."

I locked my jaw, the smirk that came so easy curving my lips. Remembering those moments, when we spent hours exploring each other's mouths, each other's bodies, was definitely better than hanging out in the present. "I don't remember you doing too much complaining."

She pushed me backward with both hands, her cheeks flushed with anger. "Complaining to you is a waste of breath. I tell you that morning sickness is a bitch, you bring me a ginger ale. I tell you my back hurts? A day at the spa. Groan about my swollen feet? Brand new slippers."

I cocked my head to the side like I was missing some key piece of information that would make everything click into place. "You're mad at me because I tried to make you feel better?"

She opened her mouth and snapped it shut, letting out a frustrated groan. "Those are just things, Jason. I don't need things. I just wanted-" She didn't finish, but I didn't need her to.

She wanted love. Support.

And her back was turned because while we spent more time naked and getting to know what interesting combinations our bodies could make, we didn't spend too much time getting to know each other. But she knew enough. She'd met my parents. Seen how they were with each other. How they were with me. I wasn't the warm and fuzzy type. It wasn't in my DNA.

I was all thumbs, but I figured this was where I should apologize. Try and make things right. "Look, I'm s-"

"I lost it."

Three words.

And life would never be the same again.

It. The word my parents had used in hushed tones. Like saying the word, like saying ‘baby’ would make it real.

Their son, their pride and joy, knocked up the girl down the street.

I hadn't said the word myself, terrified of what it meant. Terrified of the man I'd have to become.

It was selfish, but I should have been grateful. I got my life back. Instead I just felt...hollow.

Tears were what should have sprung to my eyes, but the wires got crossed and I laughed. It was a choked, strangled sound, but it was out before I could stop it.

And when she whirled around, I knew I'd regret that sound for the rest of my life.

I didn't even dodge, watching her hand slice toward my face, feeling the explosion of pain. It was a jolt to my system. Snatching me away from the trappings of not caring. Pretending that this baby was an ‘it’. Pretending that whether or not she gave it up for adoption or raised it on her own would change one simple fact : we made a life together.

A life that was gone.

The tears that stabbed my eyes weren't a reaction to the slap, though from her horrified expression I knew she wouldn't believe the truth. Not if it came from my lips. She'd never believe another word I said.

"Fuck you." It was a parting snarl that she threw over her shoulder. Ready to storm out of the den. Out of this house. Out of my life. Writing me off as the Jason that everyone said I was.

A jerk.

I couldn’t let her leave. I had to try. I had to tell her she wasn't alone. That I was here.

"Wait-"

And she did.

Just long enough to drop a final missive that chilled me right to the bone.

"You're a real asshole, Jason Cox. And mark my words, you're gonna die alone. And that's exactly what you deserve.”

~

Of all the possible scenarios I ran through on the drive to Natalee's place, her slamming me into a wall was not one of them.

My gut twisted, wrapping a rope around my vocal chords. It was a good thing, because my first instinct in tense situations was to go for a joke. Sarcasm. Anything to alleviate the tension. But I didn't want to run away from the look on her face. It was the same look she had outside that bathroom. Some stomach churning combination of disgust and disappointment.

Neither was palpable. Not anymore.

Not on the face of someone I loved.

"Natalee," I began, not advancing because she looked ready to rip my head from my body if I made the slightest move in her direction. "Let me explain why I'm here-"

"No more explanations," she interrupted, tossing her head back and forth like anything more than 'See ya' would make her neck snap. "I got your texts and emails. I don't need more noise." She curled those delicious lips of hers into that stubborn set that would make lesser men stutter and whip out their phones and order roses, pronto. Stuttering would just make me look weak and from the way her chin trembled, despite her attempts to mask it, she would probably shred the flowers and make it rain wilted rose petals and broken dreams.

No more noise.

I looked down at my hands, rubbing them together like with some magic would spark to life and the right words would appear on my palms. I'd take each one, string them together, and somehow, she'd hear it. She'd hear the truth and know it wasn't more lies. More of the bullshit that I’d brought into her life.

When I dredged my gaze from my balled fists back to the woman who made me want to be better, to be more, I saw a different kind of surprise. A tentative thing. Like she'd had her own ideas of how this reunion would go, and I was switching it up on her.

Like maybe, she wanted to listen.

The impatient and impulsive part of me wanted to go to her; to kiss her, to get past all the difficult and painful obstacles to some imagined ‘happily ever after’. A place where we could put my sins and the tabloids behind us. Where I could show her I was more than a tech billionaire with a penchant for expensive toys, expensive booze, and fast women.

I had everything...and nothing. That's what sitting in my loft, alone, showed me. All the money in the world didn't mean a damn thing if there was no one to share it with. No one who busted your balls and called you on your shit. No one to connect with and share days that seemed like they would never end; jump up and down with you when you had good news. No one to make you wish the night would never end because you wanted to stay tangled up in the covers. Tangled up in each other.

I took a step away from the wall and paused, committing every beautiful angle of her face to mind, just in case I said my piece and it changed nothing. Just in case I truly had lost her.

Those eyes of hers speared me right through the chest. They sparkled like the first time our eyes met at the bar, bits of gold and brown dancing in the green. They were defiant, daring me to cross her. To underestimate her. But I knew better. I'd been foolish enough to let her slip through my fingers once. I knew hers were the only eyes I wanted to gaze into.

I swept over the button curve of her nose, the nostrils still flaring with emotion, but there was more than anger. Something else. Something I wanted to believe was the very thing that brought me to her in the first place.

And her mouth. The sweetheart mouth that no longer held a snarl, but lips were parted, little huffs of breath that made her shoulders rise and fall. Matching my own, my heart racing in my chest like something wild and terrified.

I'd said 'I love you' before, but standing here with her, so close and yet so far, I knew this was different. This was special. Something worth fighting for.

"There's only a handful of people who know who Cassidy Winters is to me." I inhaled, trying to see past the scowl at the mention of the woman, to the fact that Natalee hadn't stormed back into her apartment and slammed the door. "Trust me, it's not a name that I like to say myself. A lot of...history."

"Oh, I bet," Natalee snorted, locking her arms and telling me I was off to a bang up start. "I've learned all about your childhood sweetheart. The future Mrs. Jason Cox models for Vogue when she's not globetrotting for her athletic wear clothing line. If I could afford to drop $100 for a pair of leggings, she'd be right up my alley."

I arched an eyebrow, almost telling her she knew more about Cassidy than I did. After she told me about the baby, her family secreted her away. I heard rumors about her spending time in Europe after graduation and I was ashamed to admit that was good enough for me. Since my parents both left their marriage in the rearview before the ink was even dry on my diploma, it was a secret that died. A road we'd ventured on, then hit the brakes and accelerated backward until we were back on track, pretending it never happened at all.

I'd lived my life with my head in the sand. It was the Cox way. Avoiding entanglements. Trouble ahead? Throw money at it. Buy things; shiny, meaningless things. Go exciting places. Anything to numb the fact that when it came down to it, you were riding through life on auto pilot.

Alone.

Until now.

Natalee was still hyperventilating, holding tight to her anger. But the rest of her...her eyes burned like she did want an explanation, needed one. Her lips were parted, but no longer hissing all the reasons she should get the hell out of dodge. Her legs were locked, feet planted firmly. Not leaving. Listening.

So I got on with it.

Because she had every right to leave.

To close the door of us.

And every second she stood there, growling at me, was a gift I didn't deserve. But I'd start earning the second chance she was giving me right now.

“Cassidy Winters lived two houses down,” I began. “She was from the right zip code, had the right last name—and unlike every other girl in my universe at the time, didn’t seem to care about any of it.” Nostalgia rippled over me, like a numb limb slowly waking up. A tingling memory that made me sad because I knew this story didn’t have a happy ending.

Natalee didn’t share my nostalgia, the locked arms against her chest traveling up to her face and morphing the gentle curves into steel. I decided any further details, like how I knew Cassidy was special, that she was different when she shared that their maid, Freida, was more of a mother than the woman whose name was on her birth certificate. The girl who stood up for the kids at the bottom of the social totem pole. The first girl who made me wonder, is this what love feels like?

“We dated for a year and we-” I took a tiny, not-so-smooth step backward, covering it by casually leaning against the wall that my back was already acquainted with. “Hooked up in that span of time.”

I said it gingerly, like a parent who was having ‘the talk’. There was no talk in the Cox household. My dad just gifted me a box of condoms on my fourteenth birthday and let Google and my friends take care of the rest. And we were safe, but I learned the hard way that nothing except not doing it at all was 100%.

“So you guys had sex.” Natalee shrugged like it meant nothing, but I knew she cared. Just like the thought of any other man touching her, even before she became mine, made me want to puff out my chest and-

Wait.

Mine?

May be a bit premature there, buddy. Especially since Natalee looked like she was chewing glass and wanted to spit out a piece to slice my jugular with.

“I’m well aware that you’re a card carrying manwhore, Jason,” Natalee said vehemently, dropping her battle stance just long enough to throw her arms up in exasperation. “I’m not sure what that has to do with-”

“She got pregnant and lost the baby.”

I blurted it out, all the finesse and lead-up going right out the window. It was a knee jerk reaction and I cringed, squeezing my eyes shut. Despite the fact that she was clearly on some sort of vendetta, I still felt like I’d done her a disservice. And when I opened my eyes and saw the horror on Natalee’s, I tried it again.

“Fuck, that’s definitely not how I planned to tell you all this-”

I shook my head, my groan filling the space I didn’t know I’d have to fill. Best case scenario, I’d expected Natalee to hear the story and we could start over. I’d share something I’d never shared with anyone else and we could rebuild. Or put down the foundation for something even better. Instead, I was the man who blurted out that he knocked up his ex, the baby was lost, and thank God we dodged that bullet, right? My intent to show Natalee I was more than a jerk was officially a bust.

And then she surprised me.

“Jason...” I’d never heard anyone say my name so softly. “I’m so sorry.”

I gazed at Natalee and realized that I’d misread her. Misjudged my klutzy attempt at telling my story. It wasn’t horror that made her eyes bulge. They were wide open, seeing me, knowing me in a way that was beyond the superficial. Seeing me vulnerable. Broken. Human.

She came to the center of the hall, not embracing me, because despite the fact that we were close enough to touch, we both knew more was required. This was just the first step.

I swallowed and picked up where I’d left off. “I didn’t know how to take the news and I reacted...poorly. Even that fell flat. Natalee curved her eyebrows, knowing that there was more.

“I...” My throat was on fire. “I was so surprised and I was a dumb kid and the wires got crossed and I laughed.” All the emotions that I’d snuffed out all these years came rushing back, and the tears I didn’t cry for our baby then wouldn’t be denied now. “My excuses don’t mean shit because she told me something earth shattering and I fucking laughed.”

There was no way I could look Natalee in the face now. Not with the water that wouldn’t stop streaming long enough for me to get my shit together. I heard my father’s voice telling me that men didn’t cry. And the Jason that I had been unhelpfully smacked me upside the head, demanding that I stop being a bitch before I lost Natalee altogether.

“Jason.”

I turned off the water works and with one sniff, it was damn near undetectable that the dam had broken at all. “Just give me a minute.”

“No.” Before I could get out another syllable or pretend I didn’t carry bone crushing guilt about that day and loss so deep I wasn’t sure I could stand it, Natalee took the sides of my head in her soft hands.

“You don’t get to run from this moment. Your brokenness, your pain is yours, Jason. And it’s heartbreaking.” Her olive eyes were liquid, crying tears of her own. “You were just a kid. And I see that you cared about her. And the baby.”

My eyes were glass, but the tears didn’t fall. I didn’t let them. In honor of all the tears that Cassidy had cried. All the tears every woman since her had cried. “Well, as you can see, none of that matters because Cassidy is back to get her pound of flesh.”

“Well, if she thinks she’s getting to you, she’s gonna have to go through me.”

It was a record scratch moment that made my jaw hit the floor. The playful edge was a whisper, but tears or no, I was still me. And since Natalee was close enough that her curves were perfectly aligned with my body, and I could see that beneath her tender touch there was a battle being waged as far as whether she wanted me to kiss her or rip her clothes off first, I decided to chance it. Jump on the land mine and hope for the best.

“Is that right?” When she bit her lip, clearly trying to cover her smile, I exhaled, knowing that for now, all was right in the world. “Surprised you aren’t getting in line to take me down as well. I certainly deserve it.”

She stopped nibbling on her bottom lip, flashing me a sad smile as she stroked my jaw with her fingertips.

“We’ve all made mistakes. It’s what comes next that matters. You decided to just show up at my house, uninvited, after I told you to go to hell, risking the chance that I could very well be the one to send you there personally.” She winked at me when I went a shade paler. “Don’t worry, Jason. Turns out I like you.”

All the mess, the drama, the heart ache, the loss, the fuck ups, went quiet long enough for some voice to whisper, You got the girl—so don’t fuck it up.

I leaned down, my mouth hovering inches above hers, her soulful eyes setting me on fire. Daring me to kiss her.

And I would...right after I got her to admit that what she was feeling was the same thing I was feeling—and it was a lot like love.

“Just like, huh?” I smirked.

She balled my t-shirt in her fist, denying me a kiss, but letting out one of her musical laughs. One that made her eyes sparkle and my heart rage in my chest.

“Don’t push your luck.”

Her apartment door swung open and a blonde woman that had Natalee’s eyes was wiping tears from her own.

“Why don’t you two just live happily ever after already?!”