Chapter 36
VERA'S POV
I couldn’t stop crying no matter how much Jack tried to console me. My heart felt unbearably heavy, filled with rage and sorrow toward whoever had been haunting me so mercilessly.
That thought dragged my mind back to Nathan. I hadn’t seen him since I accused him of being the one behind the anonymous letters and flowers. Now, I wasn’t even sure if I’d been right. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn’t. But that didn’t matter right now.
I wasn’t crying because I was scared, I had already made plans to leave Downtown. What kept my heart bleeding was Jackson. I didn’t know how I’d managed to live all those years without him, but now, just imagining life away from him made my chest ache. I knew I’d be wetting my pillow every night if I left him behind.
I took the glass of milk he handed me, downed it in one gulp, and quietly told him I wanted to be left alone.
Tim had always been a good and intuitive kid. He rushed straight to his room after getting out of the car. He’d woken up during the drive back, saw me sobbing in the front seat, and though he looked worried, he didn’t say a word. I knew he’d probably ask his dad what happened the next morning when things had hopefully calmed down. Jack had trained him well. And deep down, I knew he would’ve raised this child growing in my belly just as well, if I’d only let him.
Jack didn’t leave. He stood by me, confused and helpless, unsure of what to do as my sobs overtook the silence. Eventually, he knelt beside me and simply offered his shoulder. He let me cry it all out.
It felt unfair, dying in silence when he cared so deeply and was willing to do anything to help me. If a man like Jack could change for someone like me, then he could do anything.
He was waiting. Patiently. Quietly. Hoping I’d open up.
But I had to finish what fate seemed to have started for me before it got too late. Because I couldn’t stay.
When I finally cried myself dry, I stood up and apologized for using his shirt as a tissue. He stood too, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. I let him, for a second. Then I stepped back.
“You will be fine,” he assured softly.
“I… I want to talk to you about something,” I began.
He immediately brightened, his eyes attentive, hopeful. I knew he was expecting me to share everything that had been weighing me down. But I was about to disappoint him.
“I’m leaving,” I said flatly.
“You want to go to your house? Isn’t it kind of dangerous, especially since you’re scared…”
“I’m leaving Downtown,” I cut in firmly.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, frowning.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not leaving because of you or anyone else. Not because of the letters or the flowers. I just… I don’t think this place is meant for someone like me. I want to go back to New Orleans,” I explained, sadness soaking my voice.
“Why?” he asked, his eyes locking with mine.
The soft green light in the room reflected off his eyes. They shimmered with tears he was trying hard not to shed. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.
“I just told… you that…” My voice faltered.
He shook his head, turned away, and walked out. The door shut behind him with a quiet finality. And it crushed me. I reached out after him, but he was already gone.
I slumped to the floor, disgusted with myself, regretting every word, yet hating him for making me feel like this.
I stayed up all night, waiting, hoping he’d come back inside. But he never did.
When Tim woke and asked for his dad, I couldn’t think of a lie fast enough. “He’s probably working out,” I said vaguely.
I looked around for my keys and found them on top of his cabinet. Grabbing them and my handbag, I turned to the little boy. “I’ll go find him,” I lied again.
I didn’t find him. I didn’t want to. And thank God for that.
I hailed a cab and headed back to my place. But when I arrived, I saw Nathan standing outside, suitcase in hand.
He didn’t look happy at all.
Last night, the letter and flower had been glued to my light switch. I’d touched it when I tried to flip the switch, and it sent me running back to Jackson. And now, here was Nathan, showing up out of nowhere after days of absence. And not a single letter or flower had arrived today.
“Wow,” I breathed out.
“Wow… what? I don’t understand,” he said, setting his bag down.
“You don’t have to understand. It’s just… hard to believe you’re still doing this. Can’t you just admit it? Let’s say you were obsessed or something and—”
“Vera!” he snapped, cutting me off. “Don’t start with me this morning. I hate arguing with you. It never ends well. Good luck moving out. I hope you find the peace you’re looking for in New Orleans.”
How the hell did he know I was moving to New Orleans?!
He always gave himself away, always gave me more reasons to suspect him. I hadn’t told anyone except Hannah and Jackson.
“How did you know I’m moving?” I asked, startled.
He just shrugged, picked up his bag, and walked away, leaving me standing there like a fool.
I folded my arms across my chest and wondered why he suddenly lost all interest in talking.
I needed to leave. Quickly. Maybe New Orleans would give me the peace I craved. Maybe I wouldn’t end up regretting everything.
But when I went to open my front door and found it unlocked, a new wave of fear rose in me. I stepped back instinctively, pressing against Nathan’s door.
Then, as if the intruder knew I was outside, the door opened.
And there she was… Jessica. My half-sister.
My eyes widened. My lips parted. “What the fûck!” I hissed.
“Hello, sis!” she greeted cheerfully, pecking my cheek.
Jessica was my mother’s daughter from her ex-boyfriend. The same man who disappeared when she got pregnant. I’d learned about her only eight months ago. She was seventeen. And sometimes, I pitied her. Because she, too, was a mistake, another consequence of our mother’s ridiculous choices.
“Jess, how did you—”
“Hannah told me. Don’t blame her. I forced it out of her. I stayed in her house for nearly a week and made her life miserable until she gave me a spare key,” she cut in.
“You have to start going now!” I barked. Why does Hannah keep giving my spare to just anyone? I'd take it from her!
“You must be joking! I even baked for you. I learned it from our mother!” she said proudly.
“Your mother,” I corrected bitterly, pushing past her.
“Whatever!” she laughed, brushing it off like my hatred meant nothing.
I was the legitimate daughter. Yet I suffered the most. While she, the illegitimate one, had stumbled into my life and inherited parts of it I was still trying to piece together.
“Jess, I don’t want to start my day with bad luck. Can’t you see I hate you?” I spat.
“You don’t hate me. You hate our mother. And I get it. She gave me the love you never had. I can’t undo that. But believe me, I have my scars too.”
“Go,” I said, calmer this time.
“Throw me out if you can,” she challenged, dropping into a chair.
“Jessica, don’t push me. Leave my house!”
“You’ll be no different from our mother if you keep acting this way. When will you let go? You’re not doing this for me, Vera. Do it for yourself.”
“Now she’s preaching!” I scoffed.
“Forget the past, Vera. That’s the only way you’ll find peace, and maybe give love a chance again.”
“What do you even know about me to say that kind of bullshit? I’ll call the cops on you. You’ll explain the intrusions I’ve been experiencing lately. Believe me,” I threatened.
“If it sets you free, call the FBI too. I’ll go with them gladly. You’re living in bondage, Vera, and I hate seeing it.”
She hit a nerve.
That’s what pissed me off most, people acting like they knew me. Like they had the answers. Like my decisions were all wrong.
Hannah. Jackson. And now this tiny whirlwind of a girl.
When will they all leave me alone?