Clay hesitated and then asked, “Do you like it?”
“It’s unbelievable,” Caroline admitted, her eyes still glued to her left hand.
Clay picked Caroline up in his arms, breaking her gaze. No longer bewitched by its sparkle her mind quickly returned to the image of Jackson’s face. Unable to fight her emotions any longer she allowed the tears to spill out.
Clay kissed the side of her wet face and repeated, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she told him, as her heart sank.
Chapter Ten
Jackson looked down at his phone and felt his heart race as he saw Caroline’s name flash across the screen. He pushed the Talk button and said, “It’s stupid how happy it makes me to see your name on my phone.”
She laughed slightly. “Hey, Jackson,” her tone of voice was apprehensive and he knew immediately that something was wrong.
His heart raced wilder now and his stomach felt like it had dropped to his feet. “What’s up?”
The pause between his question and her answer made his brow start to bead with sweat. He breathed quicker as he heard her blurt out, “Clay asked me to marry him last night.”
Jackson leaned the back of his head against the wall harder than he had intended. He took a long, deep breath. “Well, what did you say?”
She didn’t respond and the silence between them made Jackson nervous. His voice shook when he asked her again, “Caroline. What’d you say?”
He heard nothing except the sound of her breath in his ear. He slammed his free fist into the floor beside him and shouted, “Caroline!”
His voice broke as he pleaded one last time, “Oh, Caroline, what did you say?”
He heard her swallow hard. “I said yes.”
Jackson blocked out the sound of her tears as his heart felt like it stopped working and he struggled to catch air. His shock quickly turned to anger as he slammed his head against the wall one last time with such force that it knocked a picture down. It crashed down violently a few feet from where he sat, but he didn’t move an inch. “I have to go.”
“Jackson, wait! I only…” He hung up before she finished.
Dazed and heartbroken, Jackson walked somberly into the living room. He grabbed an old record and slid it from its protective white paper wrapping. Gently, he placed it on the now antique record player his grandfather used to own. He watched the record spin for a moment, fascinated by the way the needle of the player bobbed up and down with the grooves of the track.
Then he walked into the kitchen, grabbed a shot glass out of the cabinet and a bottle of tequila. Jackson rarely drank to the point of getting drunk, but tonight—there would be no stopping him.
Jackson lost himself in the old records, appreciating the music and songwriting of the past. Lyrics about heartbreak spilled from the speakers and Jackson did little to stop the tears. The picture of him and Caroline from the flight that day sat on top of the wood, a glaring reminder of what he’d just officially lost.
“How could you?” he asked the picture. “You can’t want to marry him. You just can’t.” He poured the amber liquid into the tiny glass repeatedly, wincing with each one he threw down his throat. He rested his head on his forearms and let the tears spill out around him.
Just then, his roommate Alex walked through the door. He heard the song blaring while outside and knew something was wrong. He saw Jackson sitting at the table, his head buried.
“Parks?” Alex said, calling Jackson by his last name. “Man, you okay? What’s going on?” Alex walked toward the table and leaned against a chair.
Jackson looked up from the table slowly. His eyes were beet red and his face was flushed. Pieces of dark hair appeared to be glued to his forehead. He poured another amber shot and chugged it without saying a word.
“Enough with the tequila.” Alex grabbed the bottle, glanced at how much was gone and quickly put it back in the cupboard. “What happened, man? Talk to me.”
Alex watched Jackson stare at the picture of him and Caroline, refusing to look away from the green eyes that looked back at him. Jackson rubbed her image with his thumb and started to tighten his fist. Just as quickly as the photo had started to ball up, he slammed it down against the flat table top and pressed his palm across it to smooth it back out.
Alex left the room and Jackson overheard him on the phone.
“He’s playing a record,” Alex said.
“Shit. Really?” Tommy asked.
“Really,” Alex said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What the hell happened?” Tommy knew Jackson only put his grandfather’s old record player to use when he reminisced about the past or when he was destroyed emotionally. The only other times he remembered it playing was when Jackson got the news that his grandfather had died, the day of the funeral, and when he missed the old man so much it hurt.
“I have no idea. He won’t talk,” Alex said.
“I’ll be right there. Shit.” Tommy hung up and Alex headed back into the kitchen.
“Tommy’s on his way. You wanna tell me what’s going on?” By now Alex knew it had something to do with Caroline. Jackson knew Alex supported his feelings about her and had sincerely thought they would end up together. He had told Jackson on more than one occasion that he hoped it would work out between them.
Jackson looked up at his friend. He wiped at his eyes, but refused to speak. The truth was, he didn’t want to have to tell this story more than once, so he silently waited for Tommy’s arrival.