“I can’t lose you,” I say out of nowhere.

She pulls back and her forehead wrinkles as she looks at me. “Why do you think you’d lose me?”

There’s so much of my life that she doesn’t understand. The constant fear that when she walks out the door in the morning she won’t return.

It keeps me up at night.

Haunts me in my dreams. I see her walking away. Asking me for things I’m not capable of giving her and deciding she’s had enough. Each night they’re the same dreams only different ways of losing her.

“Jackson?” I ask him again. He’s staring off and seems lost. Leaning up I touch his face. “You okay?” The concern is evident in my tone.

“Just remembering something that bothered me. I’m fine,” he says, trying to dismiss my worry.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

Jackson nods and closes his eyes, “Natalie called yesterday.”

And there it is.

“She said you guys talked the other day too, right?”

Since Aaron’s passing I’ve grown close to his wife, Natalie. We spoke once while Jackson was in the hospital and since then I speak to her every few days. At first, she didn’t want to speak to Jackson or Mark. I understood, considering they were his closest friends, but she said they used the same phrases and it hurt too much. So we talk about life, her pregnancy, and how she wants to go back to work. My heart breaks the most when she tells me about what life is like as a widow and how much she prays this baby will be a boy.

Jackson pulls me onto his leg and attempts to get comfortable. “I sent a large check and arranged the plane to pick up her parents to bring them in. I don’t want her to have to worry about anything. She’s due this week. Mark has been keeping in touch, but he said she doesn’t want to see any of us.”

I can’t even begin to imagine the pain she’s in. Plus, I remember when Neil’s sister was pregnant, she was a mess. Crying over toilet paper commercials and then the next minute she was screaming over the way you buttered toast. I wish there was more that we could do for Natalie, but she refused to do a memorial or anything until after the baby is born. I sit and listen to him as he finally starts to open up about Aaron and his death.

“It should’ve never happened. I want to do more for her. She shouldn’t have to go through this alone. I know some of the military wives down there have brought food and things over. But he should be there with her.”

“I know. It was senseless and tragic, but you can’t make Natalie want your help.” It’s unfortunate but true. She needs to be ready, and if being near Mark or talking to Jackson is too hard on her then they need to respect that. “She really does seem to be doing better. At least she’s talking to you guys now.”

Jackson rubs the side of my face and closes his eyes. “I just know if Aaron were here, he’d want his brothers to step up. He’d want us to take care of them. She asked us to arrange everything for him, do a memorial and then a burial. He has a plot in Pennsylvania. Will you be there?”

Without hesitation I respond, “Jackson, you don’t even have to ask. I promise I’ll be there. No matter what.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to ask if I’ll stand by you. If you need me, I’m here.”

He lies on the blanket and I scoot up so I can curl into his arm. Jackson grabs our books and hands them to me, letting me know he’s done and needs to stop talking. The struggle is evident and I don’t want to push him too far.

We both get lost in other worlds, mine of course is about love, while he reads some suspense novel. But we enjoy the solace and the fact that we’re here—together.

After about an hour, Jackson starts to get restless and starts shifting and grunting.

“You ready?” I ask, knowing either his pain meds are wearing off or he’s asleep.

Jackson lifts his head and looks around. “I’m awake,” he says, clearly caught napping.

I giggle and start to get up and put our things in the basket.

“Since you somehow cheated and won the other bet, how about we just let you take what’s left of my balls and go to the boats?” Jackson half-laughs and half-snorts.

“There’s a lot of truth in that statement, but I’ll let you decide which part I mean.”

I’m enjoying this winning thing.

“When I first moved to this part of the city I used to come here with Garrett and race him.”

“Garrett?” I don’t remember anyone by that name.

“You met him. He was at dinner the night we met. Not that you stuck around long enough to really meet anyone, but he’s Mark’s older brother,” Jackson explains while he tries to get up, but he winces and stops.

I put all the stuff down and get behind him. “Let me help you,” I say gently, knowing how quickly his mood can shift when he needs help.

“You just want to touch my body.”

“You know it,” I reply, hoping he’ll play along.

We get up pretty easily and he grips the walker and puts his leg on the seat. Only one more week and he will be able to start walking with crutches. His arm is almost fully mobile, and he’s growing stronger and moving much more easily.

Jackson and I play for about an hour at the boat pond. I can’t for the life of me understand how the man has the drive to make anything a competition. The pond is filled with other boats but there he is trying to maneuver a tiny battery operated boat that doesn’t go more than two miles per hour. I let him win since I had no idea what in the world the rules were.

“At least I win this round,” Jackson boasts and pulls me against him, kissing the top of my head.

“Yeah,” I say without any enthusiasm. “You sure showed me. I’m buying the tickets to the play for tomorrow.”

“We’re going to pretend this isn’t happening. Since you cheated.” Jackson places a kiss against my temple and then grabs my hand. “Let’s go home. I have some plans for you.”

Home. Even he’s calling it home when we talk about it. As much as it thrills me that he’s so comfortable with me in his home, there’s a small part of me terrified we’re moving too fast. So much has happened and yet we’ve skipped the whole getting to know each other stage and fell into the living together stage. I don’t doubt my feelings or his, I only want to make sure we don’t screw this up.

We walk the block to his apartment with my arm draped around his waist. “I hope those plans include food and maybe ice cream,” I say as my stomach growls.

Jackson’s eyes dance with mischief. “I fully intend on eating.”

It takes me a second to understand the look on his face. “Oh my God! Jackson!” I laugh and he joins me.

“What? I ordered take-out.”

“Sure, that’s what you were insinuating.”

“I’m a gentleman,” he says as we enter the lobby of his building.

“Right, and I’m an angel,” I say and board the elevator.

He maneuvers us into the corner and spins his walker so I’m in between his arms, making it impossible for me to move. “Did you have something else in mind?”