“Do what?” he asked with a lazy smile as he set the food on the kitchen table. He opened a box filled with eggs, hashbrowns, and bacon, placing it in front of the chair closest to me. He sat down in the other chair, opening the other box and cutting into a pancake.
“Walk into the place like you’ve been here a hundred times. Sit at my table like this isn’t your first meal here.”
He squinted his eyes and moved his head from side to side like he was thinking. “I had a smoothie here on Monday, so technically this isn’t my first time sitting at this table.”
I let out a frustrated growl then threw myself down in the chair across from him. I couldn’t fight the smell of the breakfast; my stomachwas begging me to give in. I hadn’t had anything to eat since my three bites of pizza last night.
“Why are you so hostile toward me?” Jackson asked with a curious smile.
Hmmm, maybe because you ghosted me ten years ago? Because you still flirt with me like you aren’t engaged?
And why was he always smiling!? By the time he turned eighteen, he wore a near-permanent scowl. I wasn’t used to this cheeriness he constantly seemed to have now.
“Can you stop smiling all the time? It’s seriously creeping me out,” I said as I inhaled a forkful of eggs.
“Are you cranky because you didn’t eat the cannoli last night?”
“You only brought three to the table,” I said, deadpan. “Looks like someone can’t count.”
I knew that comment would hurt him. Jackson never got good grades in school, and his siblings always teased him for failing kindergarten. From what I knew, he never bothered trying to attend college, either. I regretted it as soon as I said it.
“You’ve gotten mean,” Jackson said, with a fucking smile STILL plastered on his face. “I only brought three because I know you can’t take more than a bite without getting sick of the ricotta cheese. I thought you could share it with the kid.”
I threw my fork down. Why!? Why did he have to remember all these details about me? Why did he have to bring me breakfast? Why was he being sonice!?
“Why are you like this?” I shouted as I stood up.
His smile finally slipped, and he held his hands up in surrender.
“Like what? What am I doing?”
“Just stop! Why are you being so nice? Why are you like, obsessed with me? It’s exhausting.”
I was acting insane. I felt like I was quite literally losing my mind. I put my hands in my hair, piling it up in a bun before realizing I didn’t have a hair tie and letting it flop back down.
“Obsessed with you? Get over yourself, Addison,” Jackson said softly.
I hated that he used my full name. Ilovedit. Fuck!
“Why didn’t you get rid of the Polaroids?” I asked without looking at him.
“What?” Jackson asked. The question was out of left field for him, but not for me. I had been obsessing over it all night, and it was still fucking with my head.
“The pictures of us, on the bulletin board at the restaurant.” I sounded so whiney, I wanted to stab myself in the foot with the plastic knife.
“Why would I get rid of them?”
I turned to look at him, and he was watching me with his brows pinched in confusion.
“Because . . .” I let the sentence trail off, gesturing between us as if to say,Because of our ending, because of what happened between us. Because you have a fiancée! You fucking idiot!
He chewed the inside of his lip, shrugging one shoulder. “They remind me of a time when I was happy.”
I stared at him. “But you have one from graduation. That was put up after I left,” I said sharply.
He swallowed thickly, then added, “It was all I had left of you.” He said it so softly I wasn’t sure if he meant for me to hear him or not.
He was gettingmarried.He’d had an engagement party just last weekend. How could he say hewashappy—past tense?