Page 31 of Just One Look

Jackson

“My office, now!”

Maverick snarls, interrupting my conversation with Dale, one of my best stable hands, about what I’ve missed this morning.

“I should probably go,”

I say to him.

“What did you do?”

he asks in a conspiratorial whisper.

“This time, actually nothing.”

He chuckles dryly and claps me on my shoulder.

“I’ll keep you in my prayers.”

I leave the rehabilitation pasture and make my way to the barn, counting the paces silently in my head. Once inside, I veer to the left, find the stair railing, and start climbing up to Maverick’s office, racking my brain for a reason as to why Maverick is so pissed off.

We’ve barely seen each other these past few weeks, so I can’t have done anything to upset him. If anything, I should be angry at him. Not exactly professional boss behavior to be ignoring your head handler, now is it?

But in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t change anything. We’ll deal with whatever bug crawled up his ass first, and then I’m going to do the two things I should have done a long time ago.

First, I’m going to tell him about my condition, and then I’m going to end things between us. My heart twists, but it’s the only fair thing to do.

The door to his office is open, so I make my way inside. A dark figure is pacing by the window, zipping from left to right, right to left.

“What’s wrong?”

I ask, remembering there are two couches in the middle of the space, and make my way to them.

“You tell me.”

“What?”

“Guess who I ran into at Bunny’s?”

“Why were you at Bunny’s?”

Don’t tell me he started drinking. Oh god, please don’t make me be the reason he’s drinking again.

“That’s not the point. I wasn’t there to drink. I needed some time to go over a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, when I first got there, I was wrapped up in the shock of seeing you and Clancy leaving a doctor’s clinic in Brentdale.”

My stomach drops.

“Were you…following me?”

“I knew that would be your first reaction. No. I wasn’t following you. I went to a sleep specialist after a certain someone told me I snore the house down.”

“Oh. Right.”

Bile starts making its way up my throat, and I get that sinking feeling I always get whenever something really bad is about to go down. I have to cut in and tell him now before it’s too late.

“Can I please say something before you go on?”

“No. I’m not done yet.”

The biting anger in his voice sends a cold current down my spine.

“So while I’m at Bunny’s, grappling with why you made up some bullshit excuse about going to the dentist, who should I run into but our favorite person in the world?”

Oh. No.

“Ridge?”

I guess, desperately wishing with all my heart I’m not right.

“Got it in one. And guess what he told me.”

No, no, no, no, no. That motherfucker is still running his mouth about me? Oh, he is dead.

“Let me explain.”

“Yes, please do. Because I would love to know how Ridge knows about your condition when I don’t.”

“I was going to tell you.”

“When?”

“Today. Right now. After my appointment.”

He scoffs.

“Bullshit.”

“I swear.”

“Well, forgive me if I don’t believe you. You haven’t exactly been forthcoming with information, have you?”

I drop my head.

“No. I haven’t.”

“You’ve had multiple opportunities to tell me, Jackson. Chance upon chance upon chance. Like when we made a deal to be honest with each other. Like the evening Wagner pulled up when we were out in the pen. Or you know what? You could have come to me of your own free will at any of the millions of times we run into each other every single day…and yet, you haven’t. You didn’t. And now, finally, when I confront you about it, you expect me to believe this is the moment you were going to tell me?”

“I know it sounds bad.”

I scrunch up my face.

“It is bad. But can I just talk?”

“To be honest, I don’t even know if I care anymore.”

I suck in a breath. Fighting with someone you can barely see is bad enough, but hearing him sound hurt is a thousand times worse than him yelling at me.

“Please. Let me explain.”

“What can you say now, though, that will change the fact that you’ve been withholding information from me all this time?”

“Nothing,”

I say, a tear rolling down my cheek.

“But I need you to know something. I should’ve told you this a while back.”

I point toward the couch.

“Can we sit down? Please?”

He lets out a low grunt that vaguely sounds like agreement, and I see him moving toward the middle of the room.

I take one couch, and he drops down into the other.

“What is it, then?”

he asks, the hurt giving way to anger again.

“What is this monumental secret you’ve been keeping from me this whole time?”

I fold my hands into my lap, pressing down on my thumb for strength.

“I’m losing my sight, and I’m…I’m going to be blind.”

“What?”

“I have a condition called retinitis pigmentosa. Got diagnosed when I was a kid. It’s degenerative and leads to full vision loss. Most people reach that stage in their forties or fifties. That’s what I was expecting would happen to me. Except last year, I learned I’ve also developed optic neuritis. It’s rare, and combined with my original condition, it’s accelerated my visual impairment.”

I must have started crying at some point while I was speaking because my cheeks are warm and wet.

“It’s getting worse. My doctor today said I’m in the final stage before complete blindness.”

Something that sounds like a choked whimper comes from Maverick’s side of the coffee table.

“I’m so sorry. What—what are you able to see right now? Can you…can you see me?”

“Kinda.”

I raise my hand and wave it in his direction.

“I can tell there’s someone sitting there. I can’t see your face or any details.”

“How have you managed to keep this from me? How could I have been so?—”

“Blind?”

I finish for him in an attempt to break the tension.

“I was going to say stupid. How could I have missed this?”

“To be fair, only Clancy knew about the latest diagnosis. I only told the rest of my family on the Fourth of July.”

“The Fourth of July this year?”

“Yeah.”

A slight pause.

“That would explain the weird vibe when I returned with Wagner and Sammy.”

“Yep.”

“And why you blink a lot. Why you squint. Why you struggle in low light. Why you were stumbling down the street the first day we met. I thought you’d had too much to drink. Fuck.”

“What?”

“That’s why you were riding Hope blindfolded.”

“It is.”

“Oh, Jackson.”

He stands up and makes his way over to sit beside me on the couch.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Actually, there is.”

Now that he’s closer, I press a sleeve to my cheeks to dab the tears away.

“I would like, more than anything else in the world, to keep my job. I know it’s a big ask, and I won’t be able to do everything I currently am, so if you want to pay me less, that’s fine. But this place, these horses, they mean everything to me. Without them, I don’t know what I’d do. I just can’t lose this, too.”

My voice cracks.

“I can’t. Please.”

“Of course, baby. We’ll—we’ll figure something out. Don’t worry. We’ll get through this together.”

Tears start falling again.

“No, we won’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t—we can’t be together. I won’t put you through this. It’s bad enough I’m about to burden Clancy again.”

“This isn’t a burden. You’re not a burden,”

he states with resolve.

“I told you right at the start that I wasn’t emotionally available.”

“But that was?—”

“No buts. I’ve made up my mind. I’m sorry. I can’t be with you.”

“Jackson, please. Don’t do this.”

His voice cracks, the sound an ax splintering my heart.

“Don’t push me away.”

I get up, and so does Maverick. He places his hand on me, and I swing my arm away. I’m barely keeping my shit together. I want him to hold me so much, but if I do, my resolve will crumble, and I won’t go through with this. And I have to. I have to let him go.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

he says, sounding more distressed by the second.

“Please stay, and let’s talk about this some more.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve made up my mind.”

I limp like a wounded puppy toward the door, dragging my feet as my heart convulses against my ribs in protest. If this is the right thing to do, then why does it feel like I’m making a huge mistake?

“Jackson,”

Maverick calls out behind me.

I reach the doorframe, sag against it, and sigh. If he begs me to stay, I think I just might. I want to be with him, not walk away from him. “What?”

But he doesn’t try to stop me from leaving. He utters two words I never imagined would come out of his mouth.

“You’re fired.”