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Ready or Not (Ready #4) Page 57
Author: J.L. Berg

“I can’t do anything about the fact that her boyfriend has a son. You figure it out. This was your idea.”

“Well, she wasn’t dating anyone when I suggested it, but we’ll work something out. Right now, we need your family intact. When your bid for presidency is officially announced, those reporters will start digging. An estranged, crazy daughter is exactly what we don’t need. Fix it, Doug. Fix it now.”

Tears stung my eyes, and wetness spilled down my cheeks. Jackson’s hard chest engulfed me, and my body buried itself into him. I barely remember moving. Everything felt slow and out of sync. As the hallway blurred past us, the last thing I saw was a family portrait. My own eyes stared back at me—warning me, cautioning me that one day this would all be over because every fairy tale must end eventually.

~Liv~

The phone rang for the tenth time that morning, and I threw it across the room. After the ninth unanswered call, shouldn’t people start to understand that I didn’t want to talk—ever?

I was the therapist, not them.

I’d sort through my own shit—eventually.

It just wouldn’t be today or tomorrow…perhaps not even this millennium.

Someday, I’d muddle through it all. I’d be fine.

I was a survivor.

I didn’t remember much of what had happened after my dad shattered my heart with that single conversation I’d overheard.

I vaguely recalled Jackson escorting us away and helping me into the car. After arriving at his house, he’d tucked me into his bed and held me until we had both fallen asleep. When I’d woken up and tiptoed out, I’d hated myself a little more every time a floorboard creaked beneath my feet. I’d run across the lawns separating our houses, back to my own house, and I hadn’t been back since. That had been nearly two days ago.

Why was I shutting him out?

I had no idea. Why do any of us do the stupid things we do when we are angry and upset? All I knew was, I was devastated.

Therefore, my entire life must be devastating, right?

It seemed logical to me.

While consuming the double fudge with nuts ice cream at nine o’clock in the morning, I tried not to think of the patients I was letting down once again by calling in sick. For two days now, I’d disrupted their days, messed with their schedules, and dishonored their trust.

I was a failure.

A loud bang sounded at my door, startling me so much that I almost dropped the nearly empty pint on the floor. I turned to find Jackson barging through it.

“Space—I’ve given it. Now, we talk.”

“What?”

“The first rule I have is to always give you space when you seem to need it. I never want you to feel smothered, so when you disappear on me in the middle of the night, I take that as a cue. But it’s been long enough, Liv. Twenty-four hours should be enough time for you to figure out some shit. If not, we’ll do it together. I’m about to go apeshit from sitting over there, waiting for you to give the all-clear.”

“You didn’t go to work?” I set the ice cream container down on the coffee table.

“No. Of course, I didn’t. Do you think I would just leave you and go to work?”

I shrugged.

“You do. Jesus, Liv. Why haven’t you answered any phone calls?” He began pacing in front of me.

“I didn’t feel like talking,” I answered.

“What are you so damn afraid of?” he bellowed, his hands going through his sandy brown hair in frustration.

“Nothing!” I answered back. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

I jutted out my chin and angrily crossed my arms over my chest as I tried to keep the tears at bay.

“Goddamn it, Liv! When are you going to realize that no matter what those two people do to you, it has no bearing on you or the life you’ve created here?”

“I know—”

“No, you don’t. This place,” he said, gesturing with his hands, “your friends, Noah…me—we are your home and your family, Liv. Nothing else matters. We love you—not for the person you could be, but for the person you are. Stop wishing for a family you don’t have, and look around, sweetheart. We’re right here.”

A single tear escaped as I gazed up at him in wonder. How could one person manage to know me better than myself?

“You want to be my family?” I asked, tears racing down my cheeks.

He stepped forward, kneeling in front of me, and I caught a glimpse of his toothy grin.

“Try to stop me.”

“I’m so sorry,” I cried.

“Hey,” he soothed. “Nothing else matters, okay? What happened the other day is behind us. I know they hurt you. I wish more than anything I could take back that afternoon and give you something better in its place, but I can’t. All we can do is move forward and make the best of what we have together.”

“Can we go get a milkshake?” I asked, my voice still hoarse from crying.

“Sure, sweetheart. But can I ask a favor?”

“Yeah.” I smiled.

“Go take a shower. You smell.”

I threw a pillow in his face for that one.

~Jackson~

The Reid house was quiet Tuesday morning as we prepared for the long day ahead. While I sat at the foot of my bed and stared at the wall, I listened to Noah as he stumbled around his room, his half-hearted, half asleep attempt at getting ready for another day of middle school.

Clunky footsteps grew louder until Noah was standing in my doorway. His mouth was full of toothpaste foam as he absently brushed back and forth, looking at me curiously.

“You going to work today?” he managed to say between the bubbles.

I nodded, rising from my spot on the bed. Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the closet and began the process of pulling out my clothes for the day. It was something I’d done for months, years actually, but today was different. Today, as I slipped my suit on, it felt liked a marked occasion for something big.

I heard Noah walking back to the hall bathroom as I pulled up my slacks and tucked in my shirt. The blue tie went around my neck like a noose, tight and snug, underneath the tailored black jacket.

Finishing up, I hurried down the stairs to prepare breakfast. Noah was already pulling out a bowl for cereal, and rummaging around in the pantry.

“Liv brought over that healthy crap you like,” I commented, pointing to the left.

He immediately went and grabbed the tan-and-brown box with the weird name and pictures of wheat fields on the back,

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J.L. Berg's Novels
» Ready or Not (Ready #4)
» Ready for You (Ready #3)
» Never Been Ready (Ready #2)
» Ready to Wed (Ready #1.5)
» When You're Ready (Ready #1)