Chapter 2 GHOST OF US

Jackson sat behind the wheel of his car, engine idling, headlights carving a hollow tunnel through the rain. He had been parked outside Emily's apartment for almost an hour, the wipers brushing back the tears of the sky with monotonous persistence.

He should go.

He knew that.

But still he sat there, gripping the steering wheel as if it might anchor him against the tide of memories crashing in.

There was a time - not so long ago - when her window would glow warm and welcoming, when she would fling it open with a laugh and call down to him, teasing, "Took you long enough!"

Now the windows stayed dark.

Now he was just another ghost passing by.

Jackson leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. If he listened hard enough, he could still hear her voice in the spaces between the rain. Could still feel her hand slipping into his, grounding him when the world got too loud. Could still taste the salt of her tears the night they made promises they didn't know how to keep.

How had they let it happen?

He wasn't blameless - God, he knew that better than anyone. When Emily needed him most, he had chosen silence over honesty, anger over vulnerability. He had been so afraid of failing her that he failed her anyway. And when she had started to pull away, bit by bit, piece by precious piece, he had let her, too damn proud, too damn scared to reach out.

He opened his eyes and stared up at her window.

There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her. I'm sorry was just the beginning. I was selfish. I was scared. I miss you in ways I can't even explain.

But apologies felt paper-thin now, compared to the wreckage between them.

Some things, once broken, stayed broken. That was the truth he hated most.

But deep down, where the hurt lived fiercest, there was a stubborn, aching hope - a small voice that whispered maybe. Maybe there was a way back. Maybe there was something worth salvaging from the ruins of their love.

He knew it wouldn't be easy. Trust didn't rebuild itself overnight. Hearts didn't forget how they were hurt simply because they wanted to.

It would take time. Effort. Pain. Vulnerability.

It would take standing in front of her, stripping away the armor he had worn for so long, and letting her see every messy, terrified part of him.

He wasn't sure if she would even let him try.

But he had to.

He owed her that much.

He owed himself that much.

Jackson turned off the ignition, the sudden silence roaring in his ears. For a moment, he simply sat there, feeling the fear curl tight in his gut. Then he opened the door and stepped out into the rain.