“How did you find out?”
“He told me last night.”
“Can I do anything?”
“No. Not really. I just needed to get it off my chest.”
“I’m always here for you, man. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Ditto. The only advice I can give you about Jackson is what you already know. He needs to be honest with you, otherwise it won’t work.”
“Amen to that, brother.”
We end the call, and I lean my arm against the back of the couch.Honesty. One simple word, so why is it such a hard concept for so many people to grasp?
That’s why I’m so affected by what happened tonight. There’s always been this undercurrent of Jackson holding somethingback from me. First, it was not telling me that Clancy was his grandfather. Then it was withholding the fact that his family used to own the sanctuary.
And it was there again today.
I don’t even care how bad the thing is; I just want to know what it is. Being kept in the dark is a special kind of torture people who have never been lied to or betrayed can’t comprehend.
What makes it even more frustrating is that he was seconds away from telling me.
But ultimately, he chose not to. Even after we made a deal to be completely honest with each other, it wasn’t enough to make him tell me the truth.
Ollie’s right.
If Jackson can’t be honest with me, what hope do we have of making it work?
28
Jackson
“I’ve messed up big-time with Maverick,” I announce glumly to the table at family lunch.
It’s a smaller crowd than usual. Pip is MIA and vague as fuck about it as usual, and Verity and Chris are attending a search-and-rescue seminar at Everleigh and are away for the weekend, which leaves only me, Clancy, Sib, and Tim.
“What did you do this time?” Clancy asks.
I hate being a burden, but I’m glad to be living with him again. A silver lining now that my cabin at the sanctuary is nothing more than a memory. It got flattened three days ago. I feel bad about that, but I feel worse about pushing Maverick away.
He’s been pissed at me ever since he caught me riding Hope blindfolded. To be fair, I’d probably feel the same if I were in his shoes.
He’s started locking the door to his office, so I can’t leave him a coffee and a note on his desk.
He’s canceled all our scheduled meetings.
He won’t answer my texts.
My calls go straight through to voicemail.
Our regular two-o’clock bathroom appointments are a thing of the past.
And the day I moved out of my cabin? He was off-site, working from home.
“I took a horse out to see if I could still ride after losing my sight.”
“How did you do that?” Sib asks.
