CHAPTER 99

west

J ackson was here. The fact that he was made me unbelievably happy. Him showing up had been a point of anxiety for me. After all of our letters, I wanted to believe he’d accept the invite, but that little voice in the back of my head had offered other suggestions. It was something I was working on with my therapist.

I’d participated in several goodbye birthday parties at Hope , but to be attending my own was surreal. We sat at a small round table in the community area. A yellow birthday cake sat in front of me, complete with a lit horse candle. There were only four women staying at Hope— Gabby, Mia, Beverly, and Alessia—along with the therapist, Karina, and the clinic’s psychiatrist, Clara, and Elizabeth, the clinic coordinator.

Everything was first names here. It was easier that way. Some of the women who came through Hope were on the run from abusive partners. I’d listened to their stories and they’d listened to mine. The little things we did here to protect each other were important.

“If anyone had asked me last year if I’d be standing here with my own cake, I probably would’ve called them crazy,” I said. No, I definitely would’ve. “When I came here, I didn’t have a clue what I was looking for or what I wanted for myself. I was lost in every way a person could be lost. I just knew I wanted a better life for myself.”

I drew in a deep breath as I tried to figure out what to say. Emotion clogged my throat. This was a big fucking moment. Sure, it was just a grocery store birthday cake in a community room, but it was a big deal. And having Jackson here with me? Even if I didn’t know what was happening with us, the fact that he could celebrate this moment with me was important.

“I don’t know how to say thank you,” I whispered. “I’ll never have the right words—I’m just not good with them—but thank you for opening your doors to me. For believing I could do this when I didn’t. I don’t know where I’d be without any of you.”

But I did know. I would’ve been somewhere drowning in another bottle trying to silence the demons in my head. I would’ve been miserable and hopeless.

I cleared my throat. Emotions were encouraged, but I didn’t want to get emotional. Not today. I just wanted to enjoy the afternoon. I glanced over at Jackson, trying to gauge his response. I felt a lot of things when it came to Jackson—a lot that I still had to work out. Insecurities, worries, fears. One thing at a time, right?

He gave me a small wink. Just him doing that released a tiny bit of the tension in my chest. He was still Jackson, I was still West. Whatever the hell came next, that fact made the stress of it all a little more manageable.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Elizabeth, “for taking a chance on me.”

It was obvious that Hope was a women’s clinic, even if it didn’t explicitly say so anywhere. When Dr. Hawthorne had called Elizabeth to ask for a favor, there were a lot of reservations about taking me in to be a patient. I qualified, sure, but what about the safety of the women who stayed there, considering I was a man? They took a chance on me, and I’d never be able to repay them for that.

“May I?” she asked as she opened her arms .

“Yeah,” I replied and sank into the hug. Touch was far from my favorite thing but my brain didn’t instantly panic at the contact anymore. Rubbing was still a no-go, and on my off days, I couldn’t handle being touched, but it didn’t incite panic anymore. And I had a laundry list of coping mechanisms to prevent things from getting to the point of panic.

“I’m proud of you, West,” she said softly. “And you should be proud of you too.”

“I am.” And I was.

“Good.” Elizabeth pulled away, and I took a healthy step back. “Our doors are always open to you if you need anything. And just remember, having a hard time doesn’t mean you failed. It just means you’re human.”

“I know,” I replied. I was still working on that. “Thank you again.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I watched as she went back inside and stayed until the door was locked behind her. As I watched her go, it hit me that I’d made it this far. I’d fucking done it. Fifteen months ago when I decided to talk to Dr. Hawthorne, I never imagined that I’d end up here. I was happy—a little nervous but happy nonetheless.

Jackson waited at the other end of the parking lot for me. Fuck, he looked handsome. His hair had darkened some, losing that sunkissed blond quality from a lack of working the ranch. He’d grown it out though. The long waves brushed his shoulders, and I wanted to know if they were as soft to the touch as they looked. He looked leaner overall. I knew it had everything to do with not training for the rodeo anymore. Seeing him lean on that cane though? That hurt. I knew from his letters what he’d gone through to get to this point, but a part of me still held onto the guilt that I should’ve been there.

Still, just the sight of him made my heart race with excitement. There was a lot of uncertainty where Jackson was concerned and we had a lot to talk about, but I chose to focus on the fact that he was here.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I hurried to join him as he leaned against his rental car. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck”

“What’s wrong?” Jackson frowned, making me chuckle.

“Nothing,” I told him with a grin. “But Jesus fuck, I’ve missed swearing.”

“Dumbass,” he said .

“Only on days that end in y,” I replied.

“That’s all of them.”

“Exactly.”

“Jesus fuck.” He laughed, and I loved the sound. How I’d missed it. “So, what now?”

“Now,” I drew in a deep breath, “you’re going to follow me down the street to my apartment, so we can park your car, and then we’re leaving.”

“For where?” Jackson asked, and my smile widened. This was the only part of the day that I had a solid plan for.

“I’m taking you on a date, cowboy.”