Unspoken Read Free Page A

trust fund,” he frowned.
    “I spent most of it on rent, numerous bakery courses and ingredients,” I said, “It was worth it, though.”
    “I am really happy for you,” he said and I smiled.
    “Are you going to tell me what are you running away from?” I asked as a waitress took the basket of wings and our plates.
    “It’s stupid,” he said. “Not so stupid. It might make me look like an asshole,” he seemed either confused or scared of telling the truth.
    “Just go and tell me,” I said reaching for his hand.
    “I’m getting married,” he said. I know that the music was still on and there were still people around but everything stopped. I immediately withdrew my hand and felt a cold sweat drop down my forehead. Jackson was getting married and this was the end of a lifelong fantasy of mine.
    “Oh,” was all I could say and he looked sad.
    “I don’t want to, though,” he said as if he was making it better, as if he knew that he was breaking every fantasy I had for the last 8 years. I mean, I knew he wasn’t coming back for me, but in my mind, in my fantasies, he was always this available man that had too much going on to deal with girls, to deal with feelings. To deal with me. Stupid, stupid Marion.
    “You are running away from her?” I asked trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but nothing about this entire conversation was nonchalant.
    “From her, from my parents, from New York, from work,” he looked down at his hands, resting at the high table.
    “Jackson,” I finally got my irrational feelings under control, “you can’t just run away! Please don’t tell me you ran away from the wedding,” I said scared that he might have.
    “No! No! Oh god no, Mar,” he said shaking his head no and laughing, “We haven’t set a date yet. We were looking at venues when a panic attack hit me and thought that running away was the best thing I could do.” I didn’t ask why he ran away here, I wanted to but I thought it’d be for the best not to.
    “So,what? You are thinking about it or what?” I asked confused.
    “I’m hiding…for now,” he looked sad, “I haven’t made up my mind.” I kept quiet. What was I to say? I wanted to help him. I wanted to tell him to stay here with me like we talked so many times but we weren’t the same people we used to be. We had changed.
    “I’m sorry,” he said after a small silence.
    “For what?” I asked confused.
    “Not coming back,” he finally looked into my green eyes. I felt them water and then shook my head to make the tears go away.
    “You had a life to live. We both did,” I said smiling.
    “I was the one who left,” he held my hand, “but you are the one that actually got to live hers.”
    “Don’t say that, Jackson,” I squeezed his hand, “I’m sure you’ve had a great time.” I tried to reassure him but he seemed too depressed.
    “Not really. I have no idea how to enjoy life.”
    “Just bake it away,” I smiled and this time I saw his eyes get misty.
    “Would you teach me how?” Ugh! Why? Why was this happening to me? Here he was, back in my life and his touch still made me feel like I could make my clothes combust at will, but he was taken and spoken for. By someone he didn’t want, but taken nonetheless, unhappily so but taken. I was no home wrecker and I wouldn’t make him leave a girl who could either be a good, sweet, caring girl, or a cold, heartless bitch. Either way, I had to be his friend and help him find the way.
     
    Seventeen.
     
    “Marion,” I heard as I walked down the stairs of the apartment complex where I had just delivered a batch of brownies to one of my teachers. I turned to see who was calling my name and I saw Jackson standing there. I was all giddy and I’m pretty sure I was blushing. I smiled and went closer.
    “Hey,” I said looking down at my white flip-flops while balancing myself on my heels.
    “Do you live here?” he asked and I looked up to see him. He was a vision and the