Chapter 6
1008 Words
The choice
The house was still wrapped in emotion.
Tears had not fully dried, and yet relief floated gently in the air like sunlight after a storm. Summer stood between her parents, holding their hands, her heart fuller than it had been in weeks. Angie remained close too, as if afraid that if she moved too far away, her sister might disappear again.
Questions came, soft and careful.
Were you scared?
Are the doctors helping?
Are you in pain now?
Summer answered each one with patience. She tried to smile more than she trembled. She did not want to bring hospital shadows into the home that had once protected all her childhood dreams.
“I’m okay,” she kept saying.
And in this moment, surrounded by them, she almost believed it.
Jackson stayed a little apart from the circle.
He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t try to claim space that belonged to family. Instead, he watched quietly, his heart doing something strange and beautiful at the same time.
It was healing.
Seeing Summer laugh with Angie again, seeing the way her father kept nodding like he was grateful for every breath she took, seeing her mother touch her face repeatedly just to confirm she was real—it did something to Jackson.
It reminded him why he would fight anyone.
Why he would fight everyone.
Why he would even fight fate.
Summer looked up.
She found him immediately.
Their eyes locked.
Her expression softened into gratitude, love, apology, promise—so many emotions resting in one small glance.
Jackson answered with a tiny nod.
I’m here.
I’ll always be here.
Angie was telling a story now, dramatic and exaggerated, trying to make Summer laugh harder. Her parents listened too, but every few seconds their eyes returned to their daughter, measuring her strength, memorizing her presence.
Jackson’s chest tightened.
They loved her the same way he did.
Fiercely.
As if love alone could build armor against tragedy.
For a moment, everything felt almost normal.
Almost safe.
Then—
Jackson’s phone rang.
The vibration in his pocket felt louder than it should have. His body stiffened instantly. Something about the timing, the sudden interruption, sent a warning crawling down his spine.
He stepped aside before answering.
When he checked the screen, his breath paused.
Michael.
Jackson rarely ignored his brother, but right now he wanted to. He wanted five more minutes of peace for Summer. Five more minutes where no one was demanding anything from them.
But he answered.
“Mike?”
“Jackson, where are you?” Michael asked.
His voice was wrong.
Too tight.
Too serious.
“I’m at Summer’s parents’ place,” Jackson replied, already feeling his pulse quicken. “What’s going on?”
Michael exhaled slowly, like someone choosing words that carried weight.
“You need to come home.”
Jackson frowned. “Why?”
A pause.
Then—
“Things are getting worse here,” Michael said. “Mom and Dad are furious. And there’s something else… something I think you should hear in person.”
Jackson’s jaw tightened. “What something else?”
“I can’t explain on the phone,” Michael replied. “Please. Just come. Now.”
Jackson closed his eyes briefly.
He felt the fragile happiness in the room behind him.
Summer’s laughter.
Her mother’s voice.
Angie’s excitement.
How was he supposed to walk away from that?
How was he supposed to drag himself back into another war?
“Jackson?”
Summer’s voice.
Soft.
Worried.
He turned.
She had noticed.
Of course she had.
She was already reading his face the way she always did, searching for the fear he tried to hide.
He forced a smile.
It was not convincing.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
Jackson walked toward her slowly, his heart pulling in two directions.
Family here.
Family there.
Fire waiting in both places.
Michael’s last words echoed in his head.
You need to come home.
Jackson touched Summer’s hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles the way he did when he wanted to steady both of them.
“I…” he began.
But the truth felt heavy.
Dangerous.
Because he knew something.
The second he told her he had to leave—
The peace she had just found would c***k.
And Jackson had never been more afraid of breaking something so fragile.
His phone buzzed again in his hand.
Michael.
Calling back.
More urgent.
More desperate.
Summer looked from the phone to his face.
Her heart began to race.
“Jackson,” she whispered, “what is it?”
He inhaled deeply.
Trying to be strong.
Trying to be calm.
But something cold had already settled in his chest.
The kind of feeling that warned you life was about to split into before and after.
Jackson opened his mouth to speak—
But the words refused to come.
Michael’s voice from the first call echoed in his head.
You need to come home. Now.
Summer tightened her grip on his hand.
“Jackson… you’re scaring me.”
He forced a small smile, but it trembled at the edges.
“I’ll be back soon,” he finally managed to say.
A promise.
Or maybe a lie.
Even he didn’t know.
The phone kept vibrating between them, impatient, demanding, merciless.
Jackson stared at it.
And for the first time that night,
he was afraid to find out what waited on the other end.
Because whatever it was…
it sounded like the kind of news that could tear love apart.
The call kept ringing.
And Jackson had to decide—
answer it…
or hold on to Summer for just a few seconds longer.
At the end he pecked Summer and left.
Immediately he started driving, he texted Summer that she must not worry about him that he will be fine.
Immediately he reached home, the first thing he did was to catch some fresh air before going back inside then prayed that nothing will stress him inside.
immediately he opened the door, the first person he saw was his sister.
- Writer
