Page 99 of The Last Love Story
He hangs up, and I lean back against the couch.
I hate that she ran from me, but it’s only been two months. There’s still a lot to learn about each other. There’s still trust to build. That’s okay.
I stare down at my phone, then unlock the screen and open my notes app, so I can type out a post. I need to do this before I go find my wife.
It takes me a half hour and lots of backspacing before I have something I’m happy with. I open one of my social media apps and the first thing I do is upload photos. A whole slideshow of them. All sweet little moments of Jade and me. A selfie from after her surgery, then a bunch of selfies of us from the last few weeks, then a photo Hallie sent me of Jade and I kissing at the Metros game, and for the last picture I put the kiss from our wedding. A moment so raw and real it’s impossible to deny our love.
Then I add the text.
I usually don’t comment on hearsay and gossip, but this morning my wife was ruthlessly attacked, and I won’t sit by and allow it.
A predatory man was behind those words. And I say predatory because despite his delusional claims that my wife was all over him, their only point of contact was when he sexually assaulted her by grabbing her ass. I witnessed her horror at being touched without consent, but I wasn’t theonly one. Several patrons in the bar and the bartender witnessed this. The bartender saw even more than I did. There is a reason that person has been removed from events and it wasn’t a smear campaign.
Talking about him is the last thing I want to do on this or any day.
I’d much rather tell you about my wife. And yes, I know I call her “my wife” too much. She rolls her eyes about it. But I’m not going to stop because I’m acutely aware of how lucky I am.
Our story has been a whirlwind. I slipped into her DMs to gush about one of her books, only to fall head over heels for her during our daily conversations. Our all day conversations. Getting married in Las Vegas was fast, but it was not done on a whim. Her father wouldn’t have been there if that was the case. The truth is, I’ve known in my soul from the moment we started speaking that Jade Jackson and her beautiful heart were meant to be mine. I’m honored to be the one to protect her and her heart, though I wish I didn’t have to. She is kind, talented, brilliant, and funny. She’s a bright light, and I’m damn lucky that she saw even a shred of those things in me. With her, I’m finally home.
Jade never posted about us because she didn’t want to draw too much attention. She didn’t want to feel she was using me. But I can’t and won’t stop shouting about how much I adore my wife, and how lucky I am that we found each other.
The pictures I’ve posted speak for themselves. She can write a love story. I can narrate one. But we can’t fake love, and we’d never want to.
I read it over one last time, then post it.
Now it’stime to go find my wife.
Papa Jackson gaveme Zoey’s address, and I’m unsurprised when I pull in the driveway and find Jade’s car here. Since Zoey is single and Trish lives with her very overprotective fiancé, who is also Zoey’s friend, I assumed that wasn’t where she’d end up.
Zoey’s house is a beautiful log-cabin home. It’s something I might’ve imagined for myself one day, but now home is that upstairs apartment and the back porch that looks out on the park. I’d love to turn it back into a single-family one day if we ever have kids, but right now, it’s all we need.
It’s home.
It’s where Jade should be.
I knock loudly on Zoey’s door, and when it swings open, she and Trish are standing in front of me.
“Where is my wife?”
Zoey looks at Trish. “Why does this keep happening to me? Different house, but same thing. Growly guy storming my front door looking for his girl.”
Trish stifles a laugh.
I don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about, and I really don’t care.
“Jade?”
Zoey swings the door all the way open, and I walk in, finding Jade standing in the kitchen.
“Hi.”
“We need to talk.”
“There’s a nice back deck,” Trish says.
Jade sighs and nods, leading me out the back door and across the expansive deck. There’s a wide staircase, and she sits down on the top stair, looking dejected.
I take a spot a few feet from her and look over at her.
