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Jackson Bryant was a nervous wreck— had been since his plane touched down in his hometown, since the very moment JJ had agreed to meet up with him sooner than they had planned

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Jackson Bryant was a nervous wreck— had been since his plane touched down in his hometown, since the very moment JJ had agreed to meet up with him sooner than they had planned. He didn't think he'd survive if he'd flown straight home— if he'd had to sit around and wait for her to come to him when she had someone to look after Aniyah.

            Now, though, he was a nervous wreck in the café he'd spent most of his youth in, often with JJ, or sometimes mourning the loss of her. He'd claimed the corner window table, where he watched as people passed by, blissfully unaware of the tormented actor sitting just beyond the glass, gnawing at his thumb whilst ignoring the once-scorching mug of tea sat before him.

            A dozen memories were playing in his mind— the first time he and JJ kissed, the first time he told her he loved her, the time he proposed, all of their most happiest moments, blocking out the shadows of pain that lurked in the background, waiting to be brought to the forefront of his mind. He wondered, letting his hand drop to the table, if this was going to be one of those moments— the kind of moment that he pushed to the back of his mind, the kind that he ignored until he was alone in the comfort of his room, where everything would come rushing forwards.

           "Jack, have you slept at all?" Were JJ's first words to him as she gracefully slid into the empty seat opposite him, looking herself like she hadn't slept at all, with bags beneath her eyes and tendrils of unwashed hair falling into her face.

           "I couldn't." He shook his head. "I kept... thinking, JJ. I couldn't turn it off."

           "I'm sorry," she said, sincerely, reaching across to curl her hand around his. She squeezed. "The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, but... but I guess there's no way to do this without hurt."

            "And what exactly is 'this'?" He asked, gesturing between them with his free hand. "Because— because I thought we were happy. I thought we were in this, one-hundred percent."

            "I was— I am happy, Jack. Truly. And I really, really wanted it to work out this time. But... but you deserve more."

            "What's that supposed to mean?"

            "It means... it means that you have so much going for you, Jack. You have dreams, some that you've already achieved— you have a life outside of this town, a family. You could do so much better than a failed musician that has never lived outside the town line, that has a daughter with the man she cheated on you with— who's only dream is to make sure her little girl grows up safe and happy, and better than her Mom ever was." JJ squeezed his hand again, using her free one to wipe away tears as they fell from her eyes. "You deserve someone that wants the same things as you, Jackson. Someone closer to you, in more ways than one, someone that would never even think of hurting you. Someone like Shelley, or... or Kat... or Emeraude. And I'm sorry... I'm sorry for barging back into your life and thinking that we could have our forever, for breaking your heart all over again, for making you risk your friendships. Jack, I only wanted... I will always love you, but... but I think this time, we should end it for good."

           "But... but I love you," he said, taking hold of her hand with his free one and shaking his head. "Jasmine— Jasmine, you're the first person I've ever loved. The first person I confided in about my sexuality, about... about my dreams. You're the girl that stood by me through it all. I know— who cares if you hurt me?! Who cares if you hurt me, when you were always the one to heal me, too? I mean, who punched Johnny Blake when he called me a fag? Who— who held an ice pack against my eye after I got beat up by the captain of the football team? Who supported me through thick and thin? You did. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for, Jasmine. Please... please don't leave me. I need you."

           "Jack, please. I can't. We can't. This isn't healthy. We're not good together romantically, not any more. Maybe we never were. We're better off as friends, we're better off apart." She pulled her hand from between his, a sad smile on her lips. "You'll always be my first love, Jackson Bryant. I'll always love you." She looked down, then back at him, this time not bothering to wipe away her tears. "I should go. My Mom has plans in half an hour, and I need to pick Aniyah up." She stood. "Don't go off the grid, Jack. Go home— go to your friends, let them help you." She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Let them heal you."

            Then she was gone. And with her, she took a piece of him.


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my poor jaCK

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