Page 49 of Chasing The Goal
It had started to feel... normal. Easy. Like this version of my life, with Jaymie woven into the background, was something I could build around.
I was barefoot in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, hair pulled back, spoon in my mouth as I stirred a pot of pasta. Jaymie was supposed to come by around seven. I’d picked up those almond cookies he liked from the bakery and had half a bottle of Pellegrino chilling in the fridge because he claimed it made him feel “classy.” I was determined to figure out how to make them by the end of this pregnancy as a thank you, just as soon as the thought of raw egg didn't induce nausea.
A few loud raps on the door got my attention. A few minutes past six, Jay must have gotten out early. I wiped my hands on a dish towel, still chewing, and padded to the door. When I opened it, I froze.
Jackson.
He stood in the hallway, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, looking both sheepish and yet somehow determined. His hair was shorter than I remembered, his jaw dusted with stubble that probably wasn’t there on purpose. He looked tired, in the worst way possible. But his eyes, were the same.
“Hey,” he said.
My heart dropped to my feet.
“What are you doing here?”
“I know I shouldn’t have just shown up,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t sure you’d answer my texts, and I needed to see you. We need to talk.”
I didn’t move. The pasta was still bubbling on the stove. The door hung open in my hand like it didn’t know what to do either.
“I screwed up,” Jackson continued, shifting his weight like the words were heavier than he expected. “I freaked out. You told me you were pregnant and... I panicked. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. And then I disappeared. Because that’s what I do when I get scared.”
I blinked. My throat felt tight. I was shocked the man had that much emotional depth to know he ran away when he got scared.
“I was an asshole,” he added. “But I want to fix it.”
I opened my mouth, but he kept going, voice gaining momentum.
“I’ve been thinking about it—about you. About the baby. About how I just... vanished. And that’s not the man I want to be. Not for you. Not for them.”
"Them?" I questioned, He meant the baby. My baby…but I wanted to make him squirm.
“Our baby. I want a second chance,” he said. “I’m here now. I’m ready. I want to be part of this, please?”
And then his words stopped, like he’d run out of breath—or nerve.
It took me a second to realize we weren’t alone anymore. Because behind him, just past the door, stood Jaymie. Brown paper bag in one hand. Keys in the other. Still wearing his Hellblades hoodie and soft grey beanie. His eyes met mine. Then flicked to Jackson. Then back.
He smiled. Soft, quiet. That same infuriatingly gentle smile he always wore when I least deserved it.
“I was just coming by,” Jaymie said, voice low. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
I swallowed hard, but I couldn’t speak. Why the fuck couldn't I speak?
He nodded toward Jackson, like he’d just caught the tail end of his little speech. “You should hear him out. If he’s serious. if he wants to step up, you should let him try.”
I felt the words like a slap and a hug all at once.
"Thanks man," Jackson barely whispered, both men still waiting for the words to come out of my mouth.
And then, like it was nothing, Jaymie added, “Have a good night, Mal,” and turned toward the elevator.
He didn’t wait. Didn’t linger. Just walked away, as easy and quiet as he’d arrived.
I stared after him, stunned. Then turned back to Jackson, whose shoulders were still tense, whose hopeful expression hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that Jaymie’s presence had rattled me to my core.
I didn’t say anything to address what either of them said. I just stepped aside, holding the door open.
“Come in.”
