Page 55 of On the Edge

“I don’t even know how to BE without her in my life.”

He looks at me like he really wants to tell me to grow a pair. But Jackson and I have been together since we were seventeen and have traveled and lived together since we were twenty. She’s a part of my family and I’m a part of hers. We are married in every sense but the legal one.

In my pocket, I rub my thumb across the velvet box again, wondering why I brought it with me. She’s put off marriage so many times, why would she change her mind now? Do I really think waking up out of a coma will make her want to get married?

I glance through the glass door of Jackson’s room. Because of where Rory’s standing, I can’t see Jackson’s face, but I can see the tubes coming out of her body, the machines surrounding her. Then my eyes land on the figure sitting next to her, bent over her bed.

His lips are moving and he’s holding her hand. I’ve been gone for two days and already Marco’s there, ready to replace me. She insists they’re just friends, but her dad has welcomed him into the room that he’s keeping me out of.

So this is why she hasn’t wanted to marry me. Suddenly it makes a lot more sense. Maybe I haven’t been the man she’s needed me to be, despite the fact that I’ve done everything I could possibly do to support her and her career. Maybe Rory’s right and I need to grow up a bit before I deserve her.

“Don’t think for a second that I won’t be back,” I say to Rory.

Then I do the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I turn and walk away.

* * *

Present Day

Transatlantic Flight

Jackson’s got her bottom lip between her teeth and her green eyes are glassy. It’s like she’s frozen, her face transfixed in the same shocked expression it’s been in the entire time I’ve been talking.

I wait, watching for her reaction. And then her lip is trembling as it slips from between her teeth, her eyebrows dip, and tears are streaming down her face.

“Hey,” I say, reaching over with both hands to cup her face and smooth away the tears with my thumbs. “Why are you crying?”

“Are you serious right now?” she whispers, a hoarse laugh escaping her lips.

I don’t answer, just keep her face cupped in my hands.

“Nate.” She sighs. “You just told me that everything I’ve believed about what happened between us was a lie,” she says, pulling back and using the sleeve of her dress to wipe her face.

“No, what was between us wasnota lie,” I growl and I pull my hands back to the console that rests between us.

“No,” she says, “I mean about your leaving. We had a fight and you left Val d’Isère without telling me where you were going or that you weren’t coming back—”

“Because Iwascoming back,” I insist. “I got the call from my dad that my mom was being moved to the ICU right after our fight. I wasn’t thinking. My dad chartered a jet and I was on my way back to Boston within an hour of finding out. I should have told you. But I was stupid and upset and not making good decisions. I should have brought you with me. I know now that if I had, everything would have turned out differently.”

She knows what I mean—she wouldn’t have raced in Val d’Isère, which means she wouldn’t have crashed. She might still be racing today. She might be the best in the world. We might still be together.

“We can’t change what happened,” she says with more strength than I would have expected. “My crash was just bad luck.”

“Your crash happened because you weren’t focused. You were worried and upset, and that’s on me.” It’s the truth I’ve been living with for years. “I can never make that up to you.”

“You don’t have to.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand before quickly pulling her hand back. “I shouldn’t have skied with how upset I was. But I wassoclose. That overall World Cup title was within my grasp.”

“I know,” I tell her, “and you deserved that victory. I’m so sorry.”

“Nate, that part isn’t your fault. I skied when I shouldn’t have, I should’ve known better. Yes, I was upsetbecauseof you. But you didn’t force me to ski in that condition, I did that to myself.”

There’s a moment’s pause where the air feels heavy with the weight of these truths we’re sharing for the first time. “And now you’re telling me that youdidcome back, but that my dad told you to leave? I don’t understand why he’d say that. He knew how committed I was to you.”

“He clearly saw something neither of us were able to see,” I admit. “We were fighting constantly. It really was like we’d forgotten how to make each other happy. I think that, for me at least, no matter how much you love another person, when you live just for them you can end up hating yourself in the process. Your dad made me realize that I needed to find what was missing in my life, figure out how to be my own whole person.”

Another tear slips down her cheek and she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away. “Why didn’t I know how unhappy you were back then? Why did you hide that from me?”

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