46

Grace

I hadn’t left the hospital since I’d learned Jackson’s father had been admitted. I wandered off to go find food and coffee for Jackson because I knew he wasn’t going to leave that spot, and as I was heading back to the room, I felt chills race up my back.

“Grace, what are you doing here?”

I turned around to see Finn staring my way. “What do you mean what am I doing here? Jackson’s father is here, and I’m staying by Jackson’s side.”

“He called you?” he said, sounding somewhat surprised.

“No, but I’m surprised you didn’t. I know we are going through things, Finley, but for you not to let me know Jackson’s father was here… You should’ve told me.”

“I couldn’t. Patient-doctor confidentiality.”

“Oh, screw your confidentiality, Finn. You could’ve told me!”

“No, I couldn’t have, and frankly, I don’t know how it got back to you,” he said.

“I told her,” Autumn replied, walking up behind the two of us.

“You what?!” he barked at her. “Why would you do that?”

“I just figured…” She sighed. “I walked past Jackson’s room and saw him sitting there alone. His uncle went to work, and Jackson had been alone all day. I just thought he could use someone.”

“That wasn’t your place,” Finn growled, growing red in the face. “You crossed a line.”

“I’m happy she crossed it,” I told him. I couldn’t look at Autumn because seeing her still seared the broken pieces of my heart.

“It wasn’t her place, and Grace…Jackson Emery isn’t the type of person you need to be around.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“He’s dangerous—violent.”

“We aren’t doing this again, Finn.” It felt like we were running on the same hamster wheel getting nowhere every time we crossed paths. “You started that fight.”

“He’s the one who swung!”

“You gave him a black eye!”

“He deserved it!”

“You don’t get to decide that. You went to him and started a fight! He did nothing wrong,” I snapped back at him.

“He’s a burden in your life. You shouldn’t even be friends with him.”

“You don’t get to make those decisions for me.”

“She’s right, Finn,” Autumn said, stepping into the conversation.

“Autumn, will you mind your own fucking business for a second?! I’m trying to have a conversation with my wife here!” he barked, and as the words rolled off his tongue, I felt how they must’ve stung Autumn.

His wife.

I finally looked her way and saw the heaviness in her stare.

Then came the embarrassment, the guilt, the shame.

“Sorry. By all means, have your talk with your wife,” she said, before turning to walk away.

Finn sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, that’s not what I meant. I just…” His voice faded off, and Autumn kept walking. “Shit!” He stood there for a moment, staring at me, unsure what to say. “I’m not sure what to do,” he confessed.

I inhaled deeply and shook my head once. “You have two choices: you can stay here with me, or you can go after her,” I told him straightforwardly. “But trust me, staying here with me isn’t going to get you anywhere whatsoever.”

He sighed and nodded. Then he turned and walked in Autumn’s direction.

“And Finley?”

He looked back toward me with those blue eyes I used to love so much. “Yes?”

“You don’t have a wife anymore. It’s time to let me go.”

Not another word was spoken because he knew. He already knew we were over and done.

It was no secret that our story had reached its final chapter, and some stories didn’t get the happily ever after.

Some stories simply ended.

*

Mike hadn’t awoken for two days, and the worry that filled me was sickening. Jackson was falling apart, and I wasn’t certain how to keep him together. We sat on the couch in the hospital room, and I lay against him as he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Sometimes I’d bring a novel with me and read out loud to him to try to keep his mind from spiraling.

“We should go to your place so you can shower,” I told him, and he shook his head.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“It’s been days, Jackson. The moment anything changes, they will let you know. We should just get you home for some rest, just for a few hours.”

He nodded slowly and finally agreed.

We walked back in complete silence, and when I saw his body began to fold, I placed my hand in his and gave it a light squeeze so he knew he wasn’t walking the path alone.

Once we got to his place, I turned on his shower and grabbed him a change of clothes. I set the clothes on the bathroom counter then went to grab him from the living room.

He was standing in front of his mother’s paintings, staring at them with such sadness in his eyes.

“Your shower’s ready,” I told him.

“Thank you.”

He cleared his throat and walked into the bathroom. Then he peeked his head out. “Grace?”