chapter 4
1092 Words
Heart on the Edge
The phone slipped from Summer’s grasp.
It hit the floor with a dull sound that echoed louder than it should have.
Jackson had never been more afraid of a single word.
“Summer?” he breathed, rushing toward her as her face drained of color. “What did they say? What happened?”
But she couldn’t answer.
Her lips parted, yet nothing came out. Her chest rose too fast, panic flickering in her eyes like a candle about to die.
Jackson grabbed the fallen phone, but the call had already ended.
Ended.
Whatever message had been waiting for them had vanished into silence, leaving only fear behind.
“Talk to me,” he begged, cupping her face. “Please.”
“I—I can’t,” she whispered.
Her knees weakened.
Jackson caught her before she could fall, pulling her against him, his heart slamming violently in his ribs. Every nightmare he had fought to keep away rushed back at once.
Was it bad news?
Had something changed?
Had they missed something important?
The house watched.
Listened.
Held its breath.
And before Jackson could ask again, Michael’s voice rose from downstairs.
“Jackson!”
Not angry.
Urgent.
A call that meant come now.
Jackson hesitated, torn in two directions.
Summer forced herself to nod. “Go,” she murmured. “I’ll be okay.”
He hated leaving her like that, shaken and pale, but Michael’s tone told him something else was waiting.
He kissed her forehead quickly. “I’m coming right back.”
Then he went.
Outside, the night air felt colder than it should have.
Michael stood near the car, hands in his pockets, pacing once before stopping when Jackson reached him.
“What is it?” Jackson asked immediately. “Did they call you too? Do you know something?”
Michael frowned. “No. I just saw her face. She looked terrified.”
Jackson ran a hand through his hair. “The hospital called. She answered. Then the phone dropped.”
Michael muttered under his breath. “Damn.”
They stood there for a moment, the weight of possibilities pressing down on them.
The city lights blinked in the distance. Somewhere a car passed. Normal life continued, completely unaware that Jackson’s world might be seconds away from collapsing.
“I don’t know how much more she can take,” Jackson admitted.
Michael looked at him carefully. “And you?”
Jackson laughed weakly. “I’m already past my limit.”
Silence.
Then Jackson leaned against the car, exhaustion creeping into his bones. “They all think I’m being reckless. That loving her is some kind of mistake.”
“They’re scared,” Michael replied. “Fear makes people cruel.”
“I just want her alive,” Jackson whispered. “I’d trade anything for that.”
Michael nodded slowly. “I know.”
Upstairs, Summer sat on the bed, trying to slow her breathing.
The word from the call still rang in her ears.
Complication.
They had said they needed to run something again. Something they might have missed.
Or something new.
Her hands shook.
Before she could stop herself, she grabbed her phone and scrolled until she found the name she needed.
Chelsea.
The call connected almost instantly.
“Summer! Where have you been? I’ve been going crazy!” Chelsea’s voice flooded through, heavy with worry.
Summer pressed her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“What’s happening?”
“We just came back from the hospital,” Summer said. “Jackson’s family… they’re already breaking because of me. And now the hospital called again.”
Chelsea went quiet.
“Are you okay?” she asked finally.
“I don’t know,” Summer admitted.
She stared toward the door, wishing Jackson would return already.
Chelsea exhaled slowly. “Listen to me. You are not a burden. If he’s choosing you, it’s because he wants you. Don’t decide for him.”
Summer’s eyes filled.
“I’m scared he’ll lose everything.”
“And he’s scared of losing you,” Chelsea replied. “Love always sounds louder in fear.”
Summer nodded, though Chelsea couldn’t see it.
Talking helped.
Just a little.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Call me if anything changes,” Chelsea said.
“I will.”
The call ended.
The quiet returned.
Outside, Michael spoke again, more cautious now.
“Is there truly no cure?” he asked. “Nothing that can fix this completely?”
Jackson looked at the sky before answering. “I’m trying. Specialists. Trials. Money. Contacts. Anything. I just want more time for her.”
Michael placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Then that’s what you’re doing. Fighting.”
Jackson swallowed hard. “What if it’s not enough?”
“It has to be,” Michael replied. “And whatever happens, don’t let anyone make you feel stupid for loving her.”
For the first time that night, Jackson felt something warm cut through the fear.
Support.
Real, steady support.
“Thank you,” he said.
Michael nodded toward the house. “Go back to her. She needs you more than speeches.”
Jackson didn’t argue.
He ran.
Upstairs, Summer looked up when the door opened.
Relief flooded her face so quickly it hurt him to see it.
He crossed the room and took her hands.
“I’m here,” he said.
She breathed out.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, both aware something had shifted, something unnamed and dangerous hovering just above them.
“What did they say?” he asked gently.
Summer hesitated.
The truth sat heavy on her tongue.
If she told him, he would worry more.
If she hid it, she would be alone with it.
“Summer,” he pressed.
Before she could answer—
his phone rang.
Both of them froze.
Emmie name lit the screen.
But Michael was downstairs.
Jackson frowned.
Slowly, he answered.
“Meet at the office?”
What he heard next made his blood run cold.
His grip on her hand tightened.
“What's the problem?” he asked.
Summer watched him carefully to his eyes.
Stronger than before.
And suddenly she knew—
whatever peace they had left
was about to end.
The call hanged up with no other words.
summer asked him who he was on call with and he answered "It's Emmie, my big sis".
Jackson starred at the phone and kept wondering what could be the problem that demanded his attention at the office.
- Writer
