Before Sunday

Twenty Nine

10:56 AM

Jackson turns his body and cups my face in his hands. "I'd die for you. I'd die a thousand times over if it meant you live."

"Everyone dies." This statement is so cold, so far removed I feel as if I'm speaking about someone else. A character in a movie, or a book. "I'm not afraid to die." Am I? No. Not so long as I lived. With Jackson, I'm alive.

"You won't. You can't. I can't live without you."

"If you've taught me anything, it's to love each moment. We shouldn't think about what's going to happen tomorrow, a week from now, a year from now, ten years from now." How the roles have reversed. Ten minutes ago, I was demanding to know my future from Jax. Ten hours ago, I didn't know I'd die before the age of forty, either. Ten seconds ago, this minute, this moment wasn't as important as it is now.

The idea of being separated from Jax, even in death, is one I can't bring myself to think about. It's too painful. Sure, maybe I am the one that dies, maybe Jackson is the one who gets left behind but it hurts just the same.

"Maybe you were sent back here to be able to say goodbye?" This simple phrase gives me my first introduction to anxious Jackson. He stands and begins to pace the tiny space between the two beds.

"Jax?"

He doesn't pause.

"Jax," I say more firmly.

This time he does stop. His hand grips the back of his neck as if whatever it is he's thinking about is giving him a headache.

"You're going to start a fire with the friction in your feet."

"Sorry," he says. "I'm just thinking. What if the fucking stars aligned and the universe did whatever it's supposed to do. Maybe it's the work of God, or your palm reader. Maybe they were working together. My point is what if I was sent back here at the exact moment in time to change fate?"

I frown. "What?"

"Think about it Lola, what are the chances that you wished on the damned cupcake at the exact same moment I was bargaining with God for a second chance ten years in the future?" He makes an exaggerated motion with his hands. "Seriously, the odds have to be one in millions. One in billions maybe."

"You think it was so you could change fate?"

Jackson smiles, the first real smile I've seen in days. "I think that's exactly what it is."

"Messing with fate, Jax. That sounds about as good an idea as using a Ouija board."

"It's not messing with it, if it's given to you. Don't you see? We are so unparalleled together, the world probably couldn't stand to tear us apart. So boom. You make a wish. I say a prayer and everything comes together."

I can't help but smile back at him. His optimism is pretty hard to ignore.

"Okay," I allow. "So now what?"

"Now, I want to see if I'm right. Where is this crazy ass palm reading chick at?"

"Zena?"

"Zena, Zoe, Zippy. I don't care what her name is." He walks over and drops a kiss on my forehead. "Where can I find her?"

Now that he's close, I reach into his pocket, grab his phone and enter Zena's address into the notes app. "I think you're wasting your time. She freaked me out yesterday."

"Nothing about us is a waste of time," he says. "Meet me for lunch. We'll celebrate."

"Wow. You're confident she's going to tell you exactly what you want to hear, huh?"