Part 1My Secret Childhood Protector Returned

For six months, I had been secretly dating my older brother’s best friend. I just hadn’t found the right moment to break the news to my brother.

Then came the afternoon Tyler dragged me to the park out of nowhere, claiming we were going on a "sting operation" to catch Jackson on a date.

"I finally caught the bastard," Tyler said, practically vibrating with excitement. "He actually brought his new girl out in public."

Before my brain could even process the words, Tyler shoved me forward, right into the middle of the walking path.

When my eyes focused on the couple standing in front of me, my vision blurred. The world tilted on its axis. My throat tightened so violently I could barely breathe, let alone speak. All I could manage to force past my trembling lips was a pathetic, broken whisper.

"Hey, Jackson. Nice to meet you... both."

Jackson’s eyes locked onto mine, and the color completely drained from his face.

* * *

I stared at the man I knew better than my own reflection, the phone trembling in my grip.

Tyler didn’t notice my world collapsing. He was too busy wearing a shit-eating grin. "Jackson, that sly son of a bitch. I knew if I trailed him long enough, I’d catch him on a private date." He nudged my shoulder. "Mia, call him. Let’s see what he says."

I didn’t say a word. I just numbly pulled up the familiar contact and pressed dial.

Fifty feet away, the young man strolling down the path pulled his phone from his pocket. He looked annoyed for a fraction of a second before answering. When he spoke, his voice was that same soft, familiar cadence I fell asleep to every night.

"Hey. I’m tied up with something right now. Can we talk later?"

I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask him if tied up with something meant holding another woman’s hand. But my throat was a desert. Nothing came out.

Jackson glanced at his screen, his tone dropping an octave. "I have to go."

The line went dead. At that exact moment, a heavy hand shoved my back. My feet stumbled forward on autopilot until I was standing dead center in front of the golden couple.

Looking at their intertwined fingers, a burning, acidic ache flooded my eyes. I clawed together every ounce of dignity I had left, pasted on a hollow smile, and offered my greetings.

Jackson looked like he had seen a ghost.