Page 92 of First Surrender

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Page 92 of First Surrender

“My recipe called for red wine and I noticed that you don’t keep any alcohol in the house,” she adds when I don’t respond.

“I used to but decided that it wasn’t worth it after a while,” I tell her honestly after I have a second to filter my thoughts. She looks at me thoughtfully so I continue.

“I drank quite a bit in my early twenties. A couple of beers after work or socially. It helped me wind down and get to sleepwhen I knew I had to be up for class in five hours. Then it got to the point where I couldn’t remember how many I was drinking a night.

“When I almost missed my alarm the morning of my first day at the Academy, I realized how badly I was messing with my life. My mom already had a brain-eating disease. I didn’t need anything else to contribute to my downfall.”

“So you gave it up completely?” She asks, surprised.

“Yeah. I figured that if I only have so many good years, I should take advantage of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mom was in her forties when she was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. If I get it, I might only have less than a decade.”

That realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

I might only have less than a decade.The thought echoes in my brain.

It used to be one of the reasons that I never cared to date or have a family. I never wanted anyone to have to take care of me.

“Jackson?” Her voice suddenly sounds far away because my heartbeat is pounding in my ears. How selfish can I be?

I’ve inadvertently pushed that aside and jumped head first into this life with Natalie and Dec. I’ve been begging her to take a chance on me and I might end up losing my mind.

The stress of taking care of my mom at such a young age drained my life. I love her to death but having that weight on my shoulders was devastating. I can’t do that to them.

“You don’t know that you’ll get it.” She must see me spiraling but I barely hear her words from across the kitchen.

“It’s probably a good thing that you’ve kept me at arm’s length all this time,” I laugh sadly. “You wouldn’t want to be stuck with me once my mind rots.” I stand up but I can’t quite get my bearings.

My head is begging me to think this through logically but my body is trying to flee.

“Jackson-” She starts to say something else but I shake my head at her.

“I’m sorry, I need to…” I can’t finish my sentence, I can’t finish a thought. All I do is turn and walk out of the house and away from her. I hear her yelling after me but I can’t even process what she’s saying.

What the hell was I thinking?

She can’t be with a man like me. Potentially have a baby with a man who could pass on genes for an incurable disease. I’ve seen the statistics, I know the chances. They’re not zero.

I reverse out of the driveway, screeching the tires into drive once I hit the road, escaping before I think better of it because I’ve offered this woman a life I don’t know that I can give her.

How can I keep her and Dec safe if I don’t even know who I am one day?

* * *

By the time I walk in the front door the next day, I’m dead on my feet and it’s been well over twenty-four hours since I’ve slept.

I barely manage to drag myself to my room, hitting the bed with a thump. I’m staring up at the ceiling when I hear my door click shut.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

It’s not the first time she’s ever asked me that question, but this time I can’t seem to form a response. There is so much wrong with me. The biggest is that I’m in no way deserving of having a family.

“Jackson,” she huffs when I don’t respond.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been awake all night.” I speak directly to the ceiling.




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