Promise of Forever(5)

“I do,” the younger man answered instead. “I believe in her. She’s stronger than anyone I know.” There was so much conviction in his voice that for some reason, I was touched by his words.

From what I could gather from their conversation, I knew I’d been wrong earlier. This man didn’t have an argument with this woman named Chloe. It sounded like something had happened to her. I wondered if she was okay. I hope so, I thought to myself. I hope, for his sake, this Chloe will be okay. A wave of sadness filled me at the thought of this man in pain and I wiped away a tear that was running down my face.

“You’re right, Jackson,” the woman agreed. “I believe in her.”

When I heard the man’s name, something stirred inside me again. I blinked, trying to understand what it was that I was feeling.

“Well, it’s getting late,” the man named Jackson said. “Aunt Betty, you just got back from the hospital today. I know it’s been a long day for both of you. Why don’t you guys head home and get some rest? I’ll stay with her and keep her company. I’ll call you guys if there are any changes.”

“That’s probably a good idea. Betty, you’re still on some medication, and the doctor said it can cause some drowsiness. We can come back early tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” the woman said reluctantly. “Are you sure you’re okay staying here by yourself for the rest of the night, Jackson? You haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“Don’t worry about me, really. I’ll just get some food from the cafeteria or get some delivered here.”

“You’ve always been such a good kid, Jackson,” the woman said affectionately. “I’m so happy to hear that you guys finally worked out your problems.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jackson agreed. “Of course, I have to thank you for the needed kick-in-the-butt for me to realize what an idiot I’d been.”

“Sometimes we all need someone else to give us a nudge to be able to see things clearly.”

“Here’s your jacket, Betty,” the older man said. I heard some rustling. “Should we get going?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for staying with her tonight,” the man said. “Chloe’s really lucky to have you as a friend, Jackson.”

“Thanks, Uncle Tom.”

“Bye, Jackson,” the woman said.

“Bye, guys. Have a good night.”

As I heard another door open and close, my mind was swirling through the dense fog that blanketed my thoughts.

I wasn’t sure why, but my thoughts couldn’t seem to let go of this man’s name.

Jackson.

Jackson.

Jackson.

As the name echoed in my mind, something unexpected happened. Without thinking, I reached for the doorknob and pushed open the door. When the door opened in front of me, it was like a switch inside my head had suddenly been flipped on, lifting the barrier that separated me from all the memories I hadn’t known existed. One memory after another started flooding into my mind. Within seconds, I remembered everything—every precious memory I’d held dear to my heart and every painful memory I’d wanted so desperately to forget.

I was the Chloe these voices had been talking about. And that voice I’d been drawn to, the man I’d felt sorry for just moments before, was Jackson—my Jackson.

No, not your Jackson, never your Jackson, a voice in my mind reminded me as one of my most painful memories emerged to the forefront of my thoughts.

I looked into the small room the door led into. It was white and empty with no windows or fixtures. There were also no other doors besides the one I’d just opened.

Where did they go? How did they leave this room? But didn’t Jax say he’d stay with me? Had he changed his mind?

With so many questions swimming around in my head, I wasn’t sure what was going on. As I took a small step into the room, I tried to remember how I got there. I thought back to the conversation I’d heard Jackson having with Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom moments ago. I remembered them mentioning doctors and being in the ICU.

Am I at a hospital? I looked around the window-less room and then back out into the endless white hallway. But this doesn’t make sense. This isn’t what a hospital looks like. If it is a hospital, then there should be people—doctors, nurses, patients, visitors. But there is no one here. No one besides me.

Then I felt something—a warm tingle on top of my right hand. That kind of felt like a hand! I looked down, expecting to see the source of the feeling. But to my surprise, there was nothing on top of my hand.

Am I losing it? There’s no one here. How can there be a hand if there’s no one here? I must have imagined the hand on mine, right?