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Page 30 of Write Me For You

June

E mma opened her door, and her expression fell. “I’m sorry, babes,” she said, and pulled me inside. I was thankful her parents weren’t here. I just needed alone time with my best friend at this moment.

I fell into her arms and let my emotions out. Emma held me tightly. “He won’t tell me what happened,” I said. Emma directed me to her bed, and we sat.

I wiped at my face and Emma rubbed my back. “He was a football player, wasn’t he?” Emma said, referring to the guy Jesse had been speaking to at the park.

“I think so.”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe it hit him, you know? The reality of it all. Of maybe not being well enough to play next season. Of just how much effort it will take him to get game-fit again.”

“I know,” I said, and sighed deeply. I thought of his face when he came to us under the trees. He was devastated. Jesse Taylor was fun and extroverted. The boy who sat beside us was anything but.

I’d always seen a sliver of sadness in Jesse’s soul, and I had a feeling that sliver had been cracked wide open today. “He asked me to leave him alone,” I told Emma, and my heart broke. “He’s never asked me to leave.”

Emma laid her head on my shoulder. “This is the reality of being terminally ill, isn’t it?” Emma said. “Having days when darkness shrouds your sun. When the future and dreams you had taken for granted, come crashing down.”

I nodded. I didn’t have words. Jesse had kept me going this entire time, waiting at my door each morning with his cheeky smile and sunshine personality. He had held my hand through treatments and showed me his talent with his drawings. He’d been my rock.

“Give him time,” Emma said. “We all break, don’t we? I know I have.”

I had too. Many times. And I realized, if I loved someone, I had to love every part. Including the parts that were darkest.

I held Emma’s hand and squeezed. “I’m going to my room to wait for him. I just need to know he’s okay.” I hugged her. “Thank you for always being here for me. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Forever, babes. We’re besties for life.”

I laughed, and it broke through the heaviness in my heart. “Good night,” I said.

As I passed Jesse’s room, I pressed my ear to his door.

It was silent inside, and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

I wanted nothing more than to walk inside and hold him.

I wasn’t afraid of his broken parts, but I understood needing time alone.

The ranch was amazing, but there was no doubt we were in a pressure cooker.

Sometimes we needed to simmer and just rest.

I entered my bedroom and turned on the lamp beside my bed. I turned to go into my bathroom to get ready for bed when I jumped out of my skin. My hand covered my mouth in shock, as on the other side of my porch doors, was Jesse, wrapped in a comforter.

My heart raced as I went to the door and unlocked it. Jesse looked up as I opened the door. “I’m sorry, Junebug,” he whispered, and for the first time since I’d met him, Jesse lowered his head and sobbed.

The pain that engulfed me was absolute. I threw myself into Jesse, wrapping my arms around his neck, and I cried with him. I held the love of my life in my weak arms, yet just being here for him, like this, made me feel like the strongest person in the world.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered. “I’m here.”

Jesse reached up and grabbed my arm like he needed me to ground him. I kissed his head, over and over, running my hand over his cheek.

“I love you,” I said as I rocked him. “I love you so much.”

That only made Jesse sob harder. I squeezed my eyes shut. I could barely stand to see him like this—my magnetic charmer, reduced to tears. Yet I felt like the luckiest girl in the world to be the one he could fall apart with.

We were one another’s other halves. In good times and bad.

We sat there until Jesse’s chest hitched and jumped in the aftermath of his tears. Then he lifted his head, his eyes swollen and face mottled with redness. He didn’t speak, but I saw gratefulness shone on his face.

Standing, I held out my hand. “Let’s go inside,” I said, and Jesse got to his feet, bringing the comforter with him. I led us to my bed, and we laid down facing each other. I held both of Jesse’s hands between us, bringing them to my lips and kissing them.

Jesse closed his eyes, his lips still trembling with his sorrow. Finally, he inhaled a stuttered breath and said, “UT has recruited another QB in my place, for next season.”

My heart cracked. “Baby,” I rasped.

“Of course they have,” he said. His desolate eyes met my own. “I feel like…” He trailed off only to add, “I feel like I’m losing everything.”

I inched closer and kissed him again. I wanted him to get things off his chest.

“I was naive, Junebug.” Jesse swallowed hard. “I was never going to be able to play for UT next season, not even if the treatment had worked during phase one.” He sighed. “I’m so depleted of strength and energy. Especially now the immunotherapy isn’t working.”

“Yet,” I added.

“Yet,” Jesse repeated, a curl of his lips telling me his emotional fog had lifted a touch.

I released one of his hands and pressed mine against his cheek.

He turned into my touch and kissed my palm.

My heart fluttered. “Jesse Taylor, you are the most incredible boy I have ever met.” He smiled a fraction more.

“I believe that, even if playing next season is not in the cards, you will work hard to make the season after happen.”

He sighed. “I’ll be put on the injured list, and will have to work so hard to get off it.”

“We will get you through this.”

“We?” Jesse said, peace settling over him.

“What?” I questioned.

“You said we,” he said.

I smiled at him and melted when one of Jesse’s dimples popped on his cheek. “Of course,” I said. “It’s group two for the win, remember?”

I lifted my hand and held it out for a fist bump.

But Jesse covered my fist with his hand.

His smile fell and, imploring me to listen with his gaze, said, “I get so sad sometimes.” My stomach fell.

But he was just putting into words what I had always suspected.

I nodded at him for him to continue. “It’s rejection, Junebug. I just don’t handle it very well.”

“It’s understandable,” I assured. “You’ve been through so much.” Jesse blinked away tears, but a few escaped. I leaned over and kissed them away.

“It swallows me. The guilt of not being able to do what I’d dreamed for my mom and my sisters. So much that my doctor back home put me on meds for depression.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” I said, voice stern. “A lot of people with cancer struggle with their mental health. We are constantly thinking and talking about dying, Jesse. That’s not an easy thing for anyone to cope with.”

Jesse nodded. “I think…” He paused. “I think today, seeing Matthew Banks—the guy I was talking to—it just hit me.”

“What did?”

“That my plan that I’ve had for so long won’t work. Even if we go into remission in this next phase, my body has been through a lot. Maybe too much to achieve those dreams.”

“Jesse,” I said, shifting so close we shared the same air.

“I haven’t known your mama that long, but I can tell you, with one hundred percent certainty, that all she wants is for you to be happy.

If that means still working to achieve your football goals, great.

But if it doesn’t, I guarantee she would support that too. ”

“I know,” Jesse said, body relaxing like he was releasing what looked like years’ worth of stress.

I leaned in and kissed him. I could taste salt on his lips from his tears.

When I pulled back, I said, “I love you without expectation. I love you with all my heart because you are the sweetest, kindest boy I know.” I smiled.

“You make me laugh and show me that life is more than I thought it was. I adore you. And I don’t care what you do with your life as long as I’m beside you. ”

“You will be,” Jesse said, and I heard the truth of those words all the way down to my soul. “It’s you and me, Junebug. It’s you and me forever.” He kissed me again. “I love you. Please forgive me for pushing you away.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I said, and pulled my comforter over us both. We stared at one another until sleep began to pull us away.

And when Jesse fell asleep first, he seemed lighter somehow, but my heart felt the weight of all he had been holding.

His father leaving had thrust him onto a path no child should have to travel.

But I decided to make it my mission, for the rest of our lives, that I would be his reprieve when he put too many expectations on himself.

I would be his gravity, grounding him, and I would be his sun, chasing away the dark clouds that would inevitably come.

I would be the girl who would cradle his heart until my very last breath—and even beyond.

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