“I need some damn time. I can’t think with you around!” I turn away from him.

“You want me to walk out so you can hate me and blame me for leaving you. Well I won’t let you play some fucking bullshit game with me.”

I let out a breathy laugh and roll my eyes. “A game? You think this is a game for me? What do I win, huh?”

“You tell me. You’re the one telling me to leave. I can’t fucking believe this.” He throws his hands up and then claps them against his legs. “If I walk out this door, I won’t come back until I know you want me here.”

“I’m used to watching men walk out the door.” I say bitterly.

“Maybe you should stop pushing them out, then.”

My heart stops as his words rip my chest apart. The pain is dragging me under, but he’s standing there, watching the tears fall, watching how deep his words cut. “You don’t know a fucking thing.”

“I know you’re fighting me because you’re afraid. You think I’m like every other man. Have I hurt you? Have I lied to you?”

“Not yet!” I cry out.

Jackson takes a step closer. His breathing is heavy but he’s trying to keep his tone soft. “You’ve already sentenced me for someone else’s crime.”

I weep into my hands because he’s right. “You can’t expect me to process all of what happened today with you here. My feelings for you … they scare me. You make me feel too much! Every time you’re around or you touch me, I lose something inside,” I say earnestly.

“You think it’s any different for me? I fought against this! Every time you walked in the room, I fought the urge to take you. If you think you’re the only one who loses, you’re wrong.” His voice grows warm and seductive. “Somehow, at every turn, you’ve made me feel more than I’ve wanted to.”

He closes the distance and I’m unable to fight him anymore. I allow his arms to hold me one last time. After this, I won’t let him back in.

“Please,” I cry into his chest as he clutches me to him. “Please, if you care, let me have time to think.”

His arms fall from my back and he slowly moves to hold my face, tilting it so we’re staring into each other’s eyes. Jackson’s expression is pained, but his eyes express so much more. “Fine. You win. I’ll go.” His eyes close as though the words are bitter in his mouth. When they open again he looks fierce and determined. “But hear me. You’re it for me, Catherine.” His thumb brushes a tear from my cheek. “I’m not walking away from you or us. I wasn’t ready to love again when you came crashing into me. But you made me want to try again.” Our lips touch briefly. When he looks back up, his eyes are intense. “Leaving you right now goes against every fucking thing I want. I’m going to let you push me away this once. But I mean it, when I walk out it’s up to you when I come back. Don’t make me wait too long.” He leans down and places a long, tender kiss upon my lips. Our eyes meet again and he waits for a second before continuing, “I told you I’ll always find you, but you have to want to be found. Let me find you, Catherine.”

Without another word, his hands disappear. I want to beg him to stay, but I need him to go. It’s as though someone is sawing me in half. I’m fighting against the pull, but I honestly don’t know what I want anymore. He opens the door and hesitates, turning back to give me a sad smile before walking out.

When the door closes, I fall to the ground and let out a strangled sob. What have I done? Why does this always have to be so hard?

You’re it for me, Catherine. His words repeat in my head.

I crawl to the couch and curl up, letting the tears come, hoping they’ll wash away the pain. He asked me not to push and I basically shoved him. I fight the urge to run after him, to beg him to stay and hold me. Hoping I made the right choice, I curl into myself and rock back and forth.

What if I’m the reason they leave?

Maybe you should stop pushing them out, then.

If I truly pushed them all away, what does that say about me?

You’ve already sentenced me for someone else’s crime.

Have I?

I lie here, soaking the cushion as I let out twenty years’ worth of devastation. I cry until my tears have dried, but the hollow feeling in my chest has grown. I’m truly alone. There’s no one here. What I wouldn’t give to go back a few hours and skip ever going to the lawyer’s. I would’ve waited for Ashton to go, or I’d go back even further to when I first met Jackson and not give in to him. Then I could live my life and not have to suffer all over again. If I thought the pain of losing Neil was bad, it’s not even a tenth of what I’m feeling right now. Jackson took pieces of my heart with every kiss, every gesture, every smile, and I’ll never get them back. Though, as I sit here and replay everything that’s happened, I wonder if maybe that’s not true. Yes, he claimed those pieces, but not to keep. He used those moments to put my heart back together. And then I made him leave.

I need to find my phone. I need Ashton. As I grab for my purse, it tips over and all the contents fly out. Why not? At this point I’m not surprised the hell won’t end. I reach for my phone and see my father’s letter on the floor. Every bone in my body freezes and my heart plummets into my stomach. Am I ready to read this? I reach for the letter and hold it in my hands. It’s now or never.

Sitting on the floor, my finger slides under the lip and I gently tear the envelope open. I hesitate for a moment. Once I read this I can’t unread it. My eyes water again but I stifle the tears. I’m tired of crying. Tired of feeling weak and not in control of my life. My heart is racing and the tightness in my chest is making me dizzy. I say a silent prayer as my fingers gently tug out the letter. Slowly, I open it and begin to read my father’s last words to me.

My Dearest Catherine,

I’m sorry you’re reading this letter and not hearing the words from me. It means that I was never brave enough to come find you. I’m a coward. I want to try to explain, and I hope that someday you’ll forgive me. You see, I loved your mother very much, but we couldn’t make it work. You were never to blame. Ever. Not one single thing that ever happened between us was your fault. I’m sorry for hurting you. I know my absence must’ve caused you a lot of pain, and for that I’ll have died bearing that burden on my shoulders. I thought about you every single day since I walked out that door. I wondered about you, hoping you grew to become a beautiful woman, never doubting you did.

I’ll start at the beginning. When I left that day, you broke me. Your tears ripped through my heart. The pain of having to pry you off my leg destroyed me. Having you beg and promise to be good … I can’t describe my emotions because there aren’t enough words to do so. You couldn’t have been any better—you were already perfect. I didn’t know how I was going to walk away. The agony was almost more than I could bear. At first, it was easier to stay away than imagine having to watch you hurt every time I had to leave. You were my world, Catherine. You gave me something I never knew I was missing. When you were born, you stole my heart. Then your mother and I realized it wasn’t working, and I had to make a choice. That choice changed the rest of our lives. After I walked out the door that day, I knew I could never do it again. I couldn’t walk away from you. Your tears, your hurt—they were caused by me that day and I’ve never forgiven myself for it. If I close my eyes, I can still see the anguish on your face. I can hear your pleas as if I’m right back there again. That does something to a man. When he sees the face of his daughter breaking, it forever changes him. I’m not excusing my absence because there is no excuse. I stayed away because I couldn’t see that again. I didn’t want cause you any more pain. I regretted that decision every birthday, every Christmas, every holiday, and every event that you’ve ever attended that I missed. A father I was not. A man I was not. Because I was too scared.

I want you to know I did follow you. I went to your dance recital when you were thirteen—you were an amazing swan. You were breathtaking in your prom dress—your date was a lucky guy. I attended your high school graduation. You looked beautiful—I was so proud. Standing in the back as they called your name, I realized how wrong I’d been. You, Catherine, deserved more. You should’ve had a father who was sitting in the front row, clapping for his daughter, not cowering in the back of the room. At that moment my shame and self-loathing was never clearer. I didn’t deserve you. Which is why I continued to stay away after that. You were doing so well without me. If I came back into your life again, it would only confuse you. I’d already done enough of that.

When I was diagnosed with cancer, I started to re-evaluate my choices. I spent days in the hospital alone, contemplating how stupid I was. I couldn’t call you and ask you to be there for me. I’d never been there for you. I wouldn’t expect it and I couldn’t ask you to do it—it was my penance. I still don’t know if things would have been different, but please know I’m sorry, Catherine. More than I can ever fully express. I am so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t the man you needed. I can only hope that as you read this you see that I loved you. One day you’ll marry and he won’t be good enough for you, because you, my daughter, deserve nothing less than perfection. I hope that he will love you with his whole heart and not make the same mistakes I did. I hope he’ll show you every day just how special you are. I hope he’ll be the father to your children I was never able to be to you. He should fight every day to show you how worth it you are. There will come a time it will get tough, but if you truly love each other, you’ll find your way.