His face is ashen as he chokes out the words. He’s speaking but not to me. “How many more tattoos do I have to get? Huh? How many ways do I have to mark my mistakes?” Jackson looks at me, desperation flashing across his face. “I’m protecting you, Catherine. I won’t let you love me.”

A tear cascades as the words fall out. “Too late.”

His eyes snap up at my admission and his nostrils flare. He quickly pushes forward. “Don’t! Don’t say that!” The muscles in his neck are pulsing with rage and frustration.

“I will say it because it’s true. What did you think was going to happen? I knew I was falling for you. Then you told me … you told me I was it for you! Don’t walk away. Don’t give up on us.”

Leaning close to my face, his warm breath washes over my cheek while my tears fall freely. Ever so slowly, his hand lifts. He gently removes a droplet of pain from my cheek only to have more follow in its path. His lips tenderly find purchase on my temple. “I’m not giving up. I’m giving you a chance.”

I refuse to move from the door. If he leaves, I’ll never get him back. I can’t lose him. My pulse is racing, but I stand strong. I have to do something to make him see me.

“Jackson, I love you! Give us a chance,” I beg him, praying he’ll listen to me.

His arms wrap around me, dispelling my fears and the breath I was holding. With my eyes closed, I take this moment, finding the tiniest bit of relief in it. He didn’t leave. I told him I loved him and he’s here, enveloping me in his warmth. I could stay in his arms forever. I feel his lips press against my forehead. When I look up into his eyes, hoping to see him recovered, the color drains from my face. There’s no love or recovery there, just determination. It rolls off him like thunder.

“No …” The strangled sound of my voice doesn’t register.

Jackson’s hold disappears along with my hope. With each step he takes, the floor falls a little further down, and my heart follows. He doesn’t stop or look back.

No.

His hand touches the handle and my breath hitches.

Please don’t do this.

I want to tell him, but the words won’t come out!

Dammit, Jackson, stop!

“Jackson.” I say his name like a prayer.

He stops but doesn’t turn as his hands clench the door jam. “You said I shouldn’t run.” The pain lances through me, fueling my anger to flames. “You lied to me! You’re doing what you promised you wouldn’t—leave.” Still he says nothing, so I step toward him. “Fine. Be a coward! Go! Walk away just like they all do.”

His hands drop but he doesn’t turn. Shoulders slumped, defeated, broken—he’s not the man I know. Jackson is strong, a fighter, loyal, and I’m desperate to get him back.

“Coward? I’m f**king saving you. The only thing I’m afraid of is losing you.”

“I can’t do this again, Jackson. Please don’t walk out that door after I’ve told you how I feel.”

I watch his head shake from side to side and everything inside me rattles. Jackson remains in the door with his back to me, his voice quiet and strained. “I can’t lose you like that. I’d rather walk away.”

Anger that was simmering beneath the hurt is starting to boil. How dare he do this? He comes here, f**ks me, tells me not to run, and then he’s going to do exactly that? I’m pissed. I’m talking volcano erupting, fire burning, hulk smashing kind of pissed the f**k off.

“You’re going to listen to me, goddamnit. Four days ago, when we went into that lawyer’s office, I was falling apart. Everything in my life felt out of control. It was you who held me together. I drew on your strength to get through that f**king day from hell.” I close my eyes, remembering what came after that. “But after everything else, I was terrified. You could hurt me so much. I was falling in love with you weeks ago, but that day I saw it all vanish. I ran because I was so afraid you’d let me go. I thought if I pushed you away before you got rid of me, it would be better. But it wasn’t!”

Jackson turns and looks at me, the battle still raging inside him. “I’m not running, Catherine. Aaron is dead. I’m going to collect his f**king body and deliver it to his pregnant wife. Guess whose fault it is again? I give up trying to fight a war I’ll never win.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He goes stone-cold, every muscle rigid and tense. The blue-green eyes I love are black and glossy. “Try telling Natalie that. I leave tonight for Afghanistan to get his body and bring it home. I’m done arguing with you. I’m just … done.”

If I don’t get this out now, I’ll find a reason to hold back. I’m trembling from adrenaline as well as the fear of him walking out this door.

“I’m ready to fight for you. For so long I thought it wasn’t my choice if things worked or not with any man. But with you—it’s different. You told me I was it for you. Well, same here. I love you.” I look into his eyes, completely vulnerable. No walls, nothing to hide my emotions. I’m giving him the truth with everything I am. “So you choose, Jackson. You tell me now if you want me to walk away. You walked through my door today. It’s up to you to keep it open. I’m not talking about going to do what you have to do. Please, don’t close the door on us.”

The silence surrounds us, giving me the answer I was dreading. I drop my head while I struggle to keep the tears in check. When I feel his hand on my chin, my heart sputters. Once I look up, I’ll have to face the truth. My gaze drifts as my chin glides toward his eyes. His face gives nothing away. My emotions are like a dam about to break.

“Say something, dammit!” I yell with tears in my eyes.

Jackson’s hand drops from my face, leaving me bereft. “I’ve said it all already. You’re not listening.”

“That’s your answer?” I ask, defeated.

He looks up, shaking his head, then exhales. “Everyone I love or care about dies. I’m protecting you.”

“No. You’re protecting yourself. People die, Jackson. It’s tragic, but it happens.”

His fingers sweep the hair off my face, lingering in my hair. “You know that night we met in the restaurant? It was so intense. I’d never felt so connected to someone so quickly. You walked away. Then, by some miracle …” Jackson’s hands cup my face. He takes a moment with his eyes closed. “You found your way back. I won’t allow anything to hurt you. Including me.” Releasing a heavy sigh, he drops his hands.

“The only thing hurting me is you leaving.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He grips the back of his neck and looks at the ceiling.

There has to be a way. If I can keep him talking, maybe he won’t go. “Of course you have a choice! Please. I’m begging you. Stay tonight, fly out tomorrow—please stay with me. We can figure this out. You’re too upset to drive or be alone. I want to be here for you, but you’re pushing me away.”

Jackson stares at the window, unwilling to look at me. “The plane leaves tonight.”

If he has to leave because he needs to deal with whatever is going on, fine. But he’s leaving and planning to end things. If he walks out the door, I fear it’s truly the end.