Page 136 of Failure to Match

You know how sometimes you manage to convince yourself that you’re fine and that everything’s under perfect controlwhen, in reality, you’re barely hanging on by a frayed thread? And then something really small happens, or someone says something seemingly insignificant, and it makes you break in half?

Well, I broke in half.

Panic flared in Jackson’s eyes when the first little sob escaped, despite my best efforts to swallow it back. Then the tears were leaking, streaming down my face, and I couldn’t catch a hold of them no matter how hard I tried.

Within seconds I was a sobbing, blubbering mess, and poor Jackson had exactly zero idea what to do with me. He kept trying to ask me what was wrong, but I was one missed breath away from hyperventilating like a hysterically crying child, so I couldn’t even babble out an excuse.

The more I didn’t talk, though, the more flustered he seemed to get.

“Stop it,” he demanded at one point, sounding like he was in genuine pain. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t a switch I could just turn off.

When I didn’t obey, he wrapped me in his arms, lifted me up, and gingerly placed me on the counter. Then, because the man was dead set on ruining my life, he cupped my face again and started to kiss away my tears as they fell.

Obviously,that made everything much, much worse.

Because how the fuck could he be this sweet after everything—all the neglect and abuse—his disgusting parents had put him through?

How many times had we joked about him not having any friends when… Had I known the truth behind it—had I known how isolated and alone the poor thing was for so long—I would have never teased him about it.

How could a parent not allow their child to have any friends growing up? How could theypunish himfor attempting to make some?

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Everything was wrong.

He’d made us handmade sushi and it was adorable, and his dad had forced him into homeschooling when he was eight and he wasn’t allowed to have birthday parties with kids his own age and I was awreckover all of it.

“Darling, breathe.”

And it made sense. It madeso muchfucking sense, you know? All his dad cared about was money. The only reason his mom ever contacted him was for money. And every single person who’d ever shown him any real love or affection had been under his or his father’s employ.

Did he think they wouldn’t still be in his life if he wasn’t paying them? Did he think they’d love him any less? Or was I just a little too deep into my emotional spiral?

“Jamie.” He pressed his forehead to mine.

I understood why Molly and Mabel were so worried. It was burning in my chest, sharp and biting. Whatwashe going to do when they were gone?

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay. Just breathe.”

It took a handful of concentrated minutes but, eventually, my sobs began to subside. Eventually, my lungs stopped shaking and my breathing evened out. Eventually, I regained enough control of myself for the embarrassment to kick in. And it kicked hard.

“S-sorry,” I stuttered. “That was... a lot.”

He swiped at my cheekbone with a knuckle, unaware of the tingles his touch left behind. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing.” I sniffled. “Except for the fact that my face smells like fish too now, which is a real bummer.”

The smile tugging at his mouth was reluctant, but it was still there. He pushed away from me and stepped over to the sink to wash his hands.

“I bet Daffodil always smells like fish. Occupational hazard. Is that really what you want to be coming home to every day?”

I huffed a laugh as I wiped away at my cheeks, grateful for the change to a lighter topic. “Worth it ifDanielmakes me sushi all the time.”

“I can make you sushi all the time.”

“You just said you don’t enjoy cooking.”

“Hate it. It’s a complete waste of time.” He tossed the towel he’d used to dry his hands and wedged himself between my dangling knees again. “But if it made you happy, I’d do it.”

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