Page 200 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

I just wish I knew what he was waiting for. “Jackson?”

His eyes find me in the dark cab, and then his hand reaches over, barely touching mine. “I’m not going to fight with you, Marlow. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. No one should be made to feel less than, and that’s what she does to you. I’m sorry she’s hurt you. I’m sorry she doesn’t see it. I’m really fucking sorry that she doesn’t treat you how you deserve to be.”

I loop my fingers around two of his. “Me too.”

But then he continues, “I don’t know that you’ll ever get the chance to tell your parents how they’ve hurt you. But you can tell me. Yell if you need to. I’ll listen. But I want you to hear me back. And come sunrise, I don’t want you feeling like shit. I want to see the woman I love sleeping soundly next to me with this bullshit in the rearview mirror. It’s not going to be easy, but you’re stronger than they give you credit for. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s a lot of words to process if you ask me.” I start laughing, and then it becomes contagious when he joins in. “I’m drunk, Jackson,” I say, rolling my neck in his direction.

“I’m not surprised.”

“I’m drunk, but even in this state, I know you’re putting yourself on the line to make me feel better.” I take a deep breath and sigh. “Thank you. You’re an amazing man—”And then I vomit.

CHAPTER 21

Jackson

It’s been a night.

The fee to have the car cleaned was not an issue. I felt bad for the driver for having to deal with it, though. My shoes and the bottom of my pants have been wiped off as much as they could and are already in the cleaning bag with her shoes outside my door. I managed to get some plain baked potato and a little water in her before she laid down on the couch and passed out.

I plug her phone in next to mine on the kitchen counter to make sure it’s charged by the time she wakes up. Grabbing a bottle of water, I lean against the counter exhausted and down the contents. The cool liquid feels good as it slides down my throat.

Dropping my head, I rub the bridge of my nose, thinking I should try to go to bed. I want to stay awake as long as I can to make sure she’s okay, though. After holding her hair and rubbing her back as she threw up in the bathroom, I helped her shower in hopes of sobering her up. She grabbed my sweatpantsand one of my T-shirts before saying she should stay on the leather couch “just in case” she vomited again.

I don’t think it really works like that, but I wasn’t going to argue with her. I’m just glad she’s finally resting.

Refilling the bottle from the pitcher of cold water from the fridge, I put it back and turn to go check on Marlow when a buzz on the countertop stops me. I turn to see a message on the screen of Marlow’s phone:You’re fired.

Fuck.

I’m still not sure what happened with Casteleone, but using the reservation might not have been the wisest idea. Of course, I didn’t bother with that bullshit. If I’m getting a table, I’m getting it on my name alone . . . and the little lie that I was celebrating my wife’s promotion. The hostess was endeared by the gesture.

Right time.

Right place.

It almost all worked out.Until her mom showed up.

I’m not sure where we’ll stand when she wakes up. She was just getting settled into a new life that was created in her best interests, for her happiness, instead of curated by narcissists.

I’m best for her.

It took her so fucking long to see me as anything more than an extension of our friends’ crew. Sex might have opened the door for us, but I walked through. Me. I fucking walked through that door and showed up for her.

Fuck her mom.

Fuck her dad.

Fuck her boss and anyone else who dares to mess with my girl. She doesn’t need any of them because she’s got me in her corner. I’ll be there however she needs me if it helps her see she’s better off without them.

I walk to the office and dig through the closet, pulling a pillow and my sleeping bag from the depths. Dumping themin the hall, I continue to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Running my hand over the rough hairs on my cheek, I know I need to shave, but I’m too tired. Dark circles are also highlighted in the unnatural light of the bathroom.

Standing shirtless in a pair of basketball shorts hanging low on my hips, I realize it’s been a while since I’ve hit the gym. No big changes, but those dinner dates with Marlow and the holiday parties are starting to show a bit. I need to start exercising again—because it keeps me calm when my job is the opposite.

And it’s something I want to start doing with Marlow. I’m not sure what her preferred form of physical activity is, but I hope we can find something to do together outside of the bedroom. Although that is my favorite form of exercise with her.

Exercise might be another way we can do life together. I’ll bring it up to her tomorrow, and hopefully, she’ll like the idea.

---