Page 104 of Under Southern Stars
Jack: I should have told you everything from the beginning. I was wrong and I'm sorry. No excuses. I understand if you need space. Just please let me know you're safe.
I show it to Charlotte, who nods once. “Better than I expected from you, honestly.”
I hit send, then immediately regret it. “What if she doesn’t respond?”
“Then you respect that too,” Lily says simply.
The minutes drag as we stand in silence, the weight of my mistakes pressing down on me. Just when I’ve convinced myself she won’t answer, my phone buzzes.
Sophia: At Lake Wanaka with Madison. We're safe. Need time to think.
Relief floods through me. “They’re at the lake. They’re okay.”
“See?” Lily’s expression softens. “They haven’t run for the airport. That’s a good sign.”
I type back quickly:
Jack: Thank you. Take all the time you need. We'll be here when you're ready.
“Now what?” I ask, pocketing my phone.
“Now,” Charlotte says, “you figure out how to prove to her that the man she fell in love with is real, even if his bank account isn’t what you pretended.”
“And if she can’t forgive the deception?” The question that has been haunting me since we arrived.
“Then you accept it,” Emma says, her voice still thick with emotion. “But you don’t stop trying until she explicitly tells you to. She deserves that much.”
The enormity of what I stand to lose hits me all at once. Sophia’s quiet strength, her sharp wit, her competence in crisis. The way she touches my face when she thinks I’m sleeping. Madison’s infectious enthusiasm, her unfiltered questions, her fierce protectiveness of her mother.
My family. The family I’d chosen, who’d chosen me back.
My throat tightens painfully, and I turn away, not wanting my sisters to see the tears threatening to fall. But Lily’s hand is already on my shoulder, turning me back toward them.
“It’s okay,” she says, her anger giving way to empathy. “We’ve seen you cry before, Jack.”
I shake my head, fighting for control, but it is a losing battle. The tears come hot and fast, every wall I’d built crumbling under the weight of what I might have lost. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”
