Always, Ella

by Sofia Sawyer

Telling her how he felt didn’t matter anymore. She wouldn’t want to hear it.

  26

  Elena

  Elena laid in bed with Marley early the next morning, feeling utterly hollow inside. After Jackson had parted ways with them when the symphony was over, she’d gone out with everyone for a couple of drinks. She’d gone through the motions, pretending she was completely on board with Jackson’s travels and had tried to give vague responses when they asked her how long he was going for and where his travels would take him. Because a good girlfriend would know that.

  Jackson is leaving?

  He didn’t even think to tell her. How long had he known? Did he know he was leaving before he fell into bed with her?

  Before he made her fall for him?

  She’d been purposely distant with him last night. She’d been pissed. And hurt. And disappointed. And…everything.

  But once the anger and pain subsided in the wee hours of the morning, she realized she’d never even given him a chance to explain.

  Thoughts infiltrated her mind, each of them contradicting the other. He’d talked about putting roots down, hinting at Charleston being the place where he settled down for a while. He had said there was no travel on the books for him for some time as he figured out his business. Now he was leaving tomorrow morning?

  “Unlike you, I can’t just pack my bags and run away until it blows over.” Her harsh words haunted her, and she wondered if he was leaving just to spite her for saying it.

  She was wrong for that, knowing how much calling him flaky bothered him. He had trusted her when he told her all about his business and what he was doing for the world. And there she went and threw his insecurities in his face because it was her go-to defense mechanism.

  Push them away before they can see you for who you are.

  But he had seen her for who she was, and he liked it anyway.

  God, I’m such a hypocrite. Why did I push him away?

  All night, visions of his hands running along her body as he whispered her name tortured her. But it wasn’t the night of passion that did her in, it was all those small moments they’d shared throughout the week. In a matter of days, Jackson had shown her how she should have been treated. Not only was he supportive, but he championed her. She finally saw what it was like to have someone on her side, rooting for her.

  It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  I love him. Please don’t leave me.

  She’d apologized on the cruise, albeit not nearly the planned speech she’d intended on giving, but his unexpected news threw her off. And maybe the damage had been done already.

  Maybe if she hadn’t waited to talk to him at the event and just gone there in the morning, things would have turned out differently.

  On top of it, she had a tough conversation with Rachel and Celeste last night. They assured her their team could spin it or get ahead of it, but it was abundantly clear they weren’t pleased with her.

  They had also asked her to wait to tell the group as to not ruin the last couple days of footage, which only added to her anxiety the rest of the night. All she wanted to do was come clean. Each time she looked into their friendly faces, she felt horrible.

  And although Rachel and Celeste hadn’t outright said it, she worried that she’d jeopardized her reputation with Berkshire for future projects. Or even worse. The publishing community is small, if any of this got out to the other publishers, she might never have another shot.

  I’ve let everyone down. I’ve hurt so many people.

  Being a fake cost her so much. Her sense of self. Her integrity. Her peace. Potentially her dream of being a novelist. And, now, the love of her life. She realized Jackson was right. It was worth the challenges to fight for who she was. She should have just done that from the start.

  Her insides clenched, and she let out a soft whimper. Marley snuggled hard against her, resting her fluffy head on Elena’s stomach for comfort.

  “What have I done?” Elena asked Marley.

  Marley let out a big sigh and stared at Elena with her soulful brown eyes.

  As Elena stayed frozen in bed, petting Marley in soothing rhythmic strokes while her mind replayed all the twists and turns of the week, a thought came to her. A line from the very first Always, Ella blog: Trust the actions.

  Everything Jackson had done for her this week was out of love. His actions showed it. She wanted to argue that it was part of the deal, but as she thought back to all the years they’d known each other, his actions had always been out of love.

  He had always shown her he cared for her, even when she didn’t believe it. Even when she felt she didn’t deserve it.

  After the crappy things she said to him at the café, he still showed up, only showing her again how much he cared about her. He had every right to leave, letting her fend for herself.

  But he didn’t. He stuck by her side.

  Elena wouldn’t let him leave Charleston without telling him how she felt. She couldn’t. Travel be damned. Even if he shot her down completely because she’d ruined it before it ever truly began, he deserved to know what she said in the café wasn’t how she actually felt.

  Shuffling out of bed⁠—much to Marley’s disapproval⁠—she grabbed her phone from her nightstand and paced her apartment while placing a call. The phone seemed to ring forever before Jackson’s voicemail clicked on. She hung up and sent him a text. Staring at the phone for ten minutes, she willed him to respond. But it never came.

  Feeling like she was crawling out of her skin with anxiety, she jumped into the shower quickly and washed up. When she saw he still hadn’t called after she got out, she dialed him again, only to have it go to voicemail after two rings.

  He’s screening my calls.

  Hurt and fear swelled inside of her. “I’m coming over,” she said after the beep.

  Grabbing her purse and keys, she hustled out of her apartment and the short distance to Mae’s apartment building. She raced inside and ran up the stairs, not bothering with the elevator.

  “Please be there. Please be there,” she chanted quietly to herself as she walked down the hall to the apartment. Her heart thundered in her chest.

  Elena raised her hand and pounded on the door. As moments dragged on, she realized no one was there.

  She pulled out her phone and texted Mae.

  Elena: Do you know where Jackson is?

  Mae: Nope. He left right before me but didn’t tell me where he was off to.

  Elena cursed. Jackson could be anywhere: his warehouse, surfing at his parents, with friends, doing errands. She could check around Charleston to find him, but with tourist traffic, it would take her forever to get back and forth in time for her scheduled hair and makeup appointment to prep for the big wrap party.

  She prayed he would call her back before then, but her gut told her he wasn’t going to. That only meant one thing.

  Jackson had always told her to put herself out there. He’d always tried to show her that even if it was scary, it was worth it.

  She knew that now.

  Well, Jackson, if you wanted me to put it all out there, then that’s exactly what you’re going to get.

  27

  Jackson

  Jackson stared at the ringing phone sitting on his beach towel. It was Elena. Again. He hit ignore.

  After leaving the concert hall last night, he had come back to the apartment to finish packing the last of his things. Mae occasionally stopped in his room, giving one of her signature stares that made him feel like he was making the biggest mistake of his life, but didn’t say a word.

  Each item he’d packed into the bag felt like it weighed a million pounds, each one taking significantly longer than the last.

  When did t-shirts become so heavy?

  At the end of it, he’d felt exhausted, as if he’d paddled against a raging current for hours on end. Leaving had never felt like this before. If anything, he would practically dart out the door, eager for another exciting adve
nture.

  Now? Well, now it felt like he was leaving a huge piece of himself behind.

  When he’d said he wanted to put roots down, he hadn’t expected to find a place to settle on so soon. Nor had he expected his roots to cling on to Elena. But she had gone and taken a machete to it, severing the tie that kept him anchored here. He felt like he was in free-fall, with nothing to hold on to.

  It was almost laughable to think a week ago, he would never have thought of Charleston as the place he’d stick around. Elena had somehow changed that for him. She showed him that staying in one place didn’t mean giving up his sense of adventure. Every moment he had with her this week had kept him on his toes, wondering what would come next.

  The thought of leaving again, exploring new places in the world, no longer held the same appeal. Deep down, he knew that every person who proudly talked about their home, every woman who pulled him onto the dance floor, every child who was excited to share their story, and all the incredible food, cultures, and surf spots he could discover would no longer fill his life like it once did. Elena had left a void in him that nothing but her could fill.

  Jackson stared out to the horizon, watching the ebb and flow of waves roll onto the shore. He’d often come to the private spot on Sullivan’s Island to reflect, as he always had while growing up. When he was in college, his reflections were about how he could forge a path as his own man without disappointing his father.

  That didn’t work out.

  Then it was about building his company from the ground up, which was something that had made him incredibly proud. And just a little more than a week ago, he had sat here to consider the next phase of his career, which meant staying in one place for a little while for once.

  That also didn’t work out.

  Now his ass sat firmly in the sand as he thought about the woman who stole and broke his heart.

  Another thing that hadn’t panned out.

  If there was one thing that Jackson was, it was resilient. He’s always been the type to go wherever the tides took him, never worrying about the need to adjust his sails and go down a new course. It was just his way, and it had worked well for him for his thirty-two years of life. But some things weren’t that easy to float away from.

  His phone rang again, showing Elena’s name on the display. He ignored it once more before standing and grabbing his board. He needed a distraction, a way to step away from his phone, especially with the way his fingers itched to answer Elena’s call each time he saw her name.

  He had to just keep it together for one more night. He’d hold her one last time, showing the world he was the man she portrayed him to be in her blogs. He’d brush his lips against hers, a passionate kiss a boyfriend would give his lady in celebration of her success. He’d smile, say all the right things, and show the world he wasn’t breaking inside.

  And then, he’d let her go.

  “Jackson?” A familiar voice called his name as he walked up the beach to his parent’s house.

  He squinted in the harsh sunlight, making out two figures sitting in Adirondack chairs. “Mom?”

  She rose, closing the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?”

  He squeezed her back. It had been months since he’d seen her, often choosing to make visits brief to limit the strain between him and his father. “I should be asking you the same thing. I thought you were supposed to be on vacation?”

  “We’re always back at this time.” She gave him a little pat on the cheek. “I guess you never realized since you’re typically gone by now.”

  Jackson followed her to where they were seated on the patio. His father stood, and they shook hands. “Son.”

  “Dad.”

  His mother took a seat again as Jackson rested his surfboard near the outdoor shower. “I’m surprised to see you’re still here. Mae said you’d come home a couple weeks ago,” his mom commented as she took a sip of her coffee.

  Jackson shrugged. “I needed a little extra time to figure out some business changes.”

  His father snorted and eyed his boardshorts. “Another busy day at the office, I see.”

  Jackson glared at him, his blood starting to boil. Not even one minute into seeing his father, and he was already minimizing all of Jackson’s work. He didn’t need this, not when he was already feeling like shit.

  “What kind of changes?” his mother asked with interest, likely to defuse the obvious tension rising between Jackson and his father.

  Jackson dragged his gaze from his dad and focused on her, trying his hardest to pretend like his father wasn’t there. He could still feel the judgment radiating from his dad, though.

  “We’re going through a high-growth stage, and it’s time to mature the company’s business plan to match the demand. I had planned to look into new production and office space.” He paused. “And I was going to cut down on my travel.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re staying? Here? In Charleston?” She couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. His heart squeezed. Had his mother really missed him that much?

  Jackson shuffled. “Unfortunately, not anymore. Some things didn’t work out. I leave again tomorrow.”

  She looked crestfallen.

  “Never thought you had the head for business. Maybe if you took things more seriously rather than slack off at the beach, it would have actually worked out,” his father muttered into his coffee cup.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Jackson blew up.

  God, he couldn’t deal with this right now. Not after Elena—one of the few people that made him feel like what he was doing mattered—basically said his life was a joke. He was so tired of people assuming he was just skirting by in life.

  “Do you know how many businesses fail within the first few years? My business not only withstood the odds, but it’s thriving, and I’m damn proud of it.”

  Jackson took a deep breath, trying to calm his outrage. He was so sick of his dad putting him down when he didn’t even have a clue what it takes to keep this business running.

  “You don’t realize how much goes into what I do,” Jackson continued, trying to restrain another outburst. “It takes creativity, grit, and determination to stay current on the surfing industry, as well as understanding regional changes, climate change, and how what we put out in the world can affect the environment. What I’m doing matters. I’ve never worked so hard in my life. I might even be working harder than you.”

  His father scoffed. “I highly doubt that. Always a pleasure having you home,” he said dryly before he stood and walked back into the house.

  Jackson’s head hung down in defeat. “I’ll never be good enough for him.”

  “Honey.” His mom’s voice was soothing and quiet. “Your father is a...difficult man sometimes.”

  Jackson shook his head, lost for words. She patted the empty chair for him to sit.

  “Ten years, mom. He’s never forgiven me for not following in his footsteps for ten years.” Emotion filled his voice, and Jackson was surprised by how badly the realization stung.

  “And despite his comments, he wants you to come home,” she shared. “We both do. It’s great that Mae was able to join you on some of your trips, and we appreciate the video calls between your visits, but it’s not the same. I miss my baby boy,” her voice cracked. “It’s been too long since our family was truly together. This can’t keep going on. We won’t be around forever, you know.”

  “Oh, mom.” Jackson wrapped her into a tight hug, guilt weighing him down. He’d been so focused on staying away from his father’s criticisms all these years that he didn’t stop to realize how it affected his mother and sister too.

  She swiped at her errant tears and pulled away, waving a hand like it was nothing. “I’m sorry, honey. I figured by keeping this all bottled up, I was being supportive. I didn’t want you to give up your dreams because you felt bad about leaving your silly mother behind.”

  “You a
lways pasted a smile on your face but never said anything. I assumed you felt the same as dad.”

  “Oh, goodness. No. I just wanted to keep the peace, so maybe you’d want to stick around longer on the rare occasions you were home.” She placed a hand on his cheek, pushing his hair aside. “A mother always wants her babies around, even if they’re grown. Maybe if I’d said something sooner, this family wouldn’t have lost so much time together.”

  His heart squeezed. How could she think this was her fault? “This is between me and dad. You did nothing wrong, mom. Okay? Don’t you ever think that.”

  A hopeful look crossed her face. “Maybe it’s time for the two of you to sit down and have a real conversation. This family needs to come together again and heal.”

  “Every time I try, he does this,” Jackson said, gesturing at the house.

  “And he’s wrong. But you’re your father’s son. Both of you think it’s easier to avoid your disagreement than to deal with it. You’re both so stubborn. Someone needs to make the first move, Jackson,” she said, her eyes pleading.

  He blew out a breath. “Fine. Fine.”

  She squeezed his hand, appreciative tears misting her eyes again. “And you won’t give up until he listens to you, right?”

  “I mean, I can’t force him to absorb and accept what I’m saying, but I’ll try, mom.”

  “You should know that during these last ten years, he’s read every newspaper article about you, kept magazine features about your business, and recorded every news segment.”

  “Then...why...what?” His mom’s admission came as a shock. After all these years antagonizing Jackson, he never once thought his dad cared enough to keep up with the business.

  “As I said, your father is a difficult man. He’s stuck in the traditional thoughts he grew up with, and sometimes it’s hard for him to battle that with his actual real feelings: that he’s proud of what you’ve done and wants you to succeed. Before you go in there, I just thought you should know.”