“You told her to go for a job position, and then told her she couldn’t have it when she came to you?”

Charlotte pursed her lips together. “Yes, bless her heart, she just wasn’t a right fit. But now she can try again next year.” Wow. What a gem Charlotte was. “Anyway, I’m sure we could help you, and we’d love your help inspiring each other.”

“I’m actually busy that day, and—”

“Really? Because your mom said you were free and you’d definitely be there. It’s at seven p.m., and I put you down for a dessert. I hope that’s fine. Okay, Grace, I gotta run! See you Friday!” She blew kisses my way and hurried away before I could even disagree.

I guessed I needed to find a brownie recipe sooner than later.

11

Jackson

Grace gave her time and energy to any and everyone in town without any thought to it. I’d seen different nosy individuals who thought it was their job to butt into her personal life stopping her all the time. Yet instead of telling them to fuck off as she should’ve, she smiled, stood tall, and responded to their questions with such elegance.

It was sickening to watch.

They were emotionally draining her, and she was giving herself to them as if she hadn’t even cared a bit for their bluntness and disrespect.

“Well, bless your heart, Gracelyn Mae. I don’t even know what I’d do if my marriage was on the rocks. But you’re strong. I’m sure you’ll make it through. Plus, you’re not that old, so maybe you’ll find someone else. Or maybe Finn will take you back. Otherwise, there are always cats. I’m praying for you, sweetheart,” an old woman told Grace in the marketplace while Grace was simply trying to buy flowers. She’d been standing there for over ten minutes, trying to check out, but people kept butting into her time and space as though they didn’t give a damn about her feelings at all.

Once the old hag walked away, I grumbled as I brushed past Grace. “You just allow anyone to treat you like crap, huh?” I asked her.

She turned my way, and goddamn, her eyes were still beautiful. I wondered when that would go away.

She blinked once. “What are you talking about?”

“For the past forever minutes, people have been so belittling to you.”

“What? No, they haven’t. They are just giving me their prayers.”

“With prayers like that, who needs curses?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about, Jackson?”

“Everyone in town has been eating you alive over the past few days, and you’re just allowing it to happen.”

“Have you been watching me?”

“No.”

Yes.

Maybe.

She cleared her throat. “Well, all I’m saying is, you don’t know these people like I do. They are just being caring, that’s all.”

“They are abusing you, and you’re freely allowing it!” I barked, annoyed by how ignorant she was being. They were pretty much spitting in her face, and she was pretending it wasn’t happening.

“Why do you even care, Jackson?” she wondered out loud, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t,” I snapped.

“Then why are you standing here talking about it?”

I released a low growl. “You’re right. Go ahead, let them mock you to your face. Let them treat you like shit, look down on you, and suck you dry of all your energy. But when the day comes that you’re burnt the complete fuck out, remember I told you so.”

“How can you be so sure about that, huh? How can you be so positive that people are using me?”

“Because I know how people work. They think so little of you, and you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

“Because you think so little of yourself. People only treat you the way you treat yourself. And I know exactly what they are going to do to you if you keep this up.” I leaned in closer to her, and our eyes stayed locked. We were so close that I felt her uneven breaths against my skin, and I was certain she felt mine. “They’re gonna bleed you out till you’re nothing, and then they’re gonna ask how you died.”

She swallowed hard, and her eyes watered over, but she stood as tall as she could and tried her best to hide the trembling in her hands as she held her flowers.

“Let me guess,” I said. “This is the part where you cry.”

“Yes.” She nodded slow, taking a deep breath. “And this is the part where you leave.”

The corner of my mouth twitched, and I turned to walk away when she called me once more. “Why do you treat yourself like that?”

“Like what?” I asked.

“You said people treat you the way you treat yourself. Then why do you choose to treat yourself like a monster?”

Her words pushed me, and I almost wavered. “Because that’s exactly what I am.”

* * *

Jackson

Eight Years Old

“This is stupid!” I snapped, knocking my canvas over in the open field as Ma tried to teach me a new technique for the sunset. She’d been showing me for over an hour, and I couldn’t do it. It was stupid, and art was stupid, and I was done with it all.