“The order should go: denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance.” He pauses for a few seconds, as though he’s figuring out how to word whatever insightful advice he’s going to offer up next.
“Were you ever in denial, George?” I start shaking my head before he even finishes asking. “No, never, how could I be? I was there. I witnessed it all. I was part of it; the accident and the decision to switch off his life support. He died holding onto me and our dead son, our baby boy.” I sob out the last three words as images of Beau flash through my mind. I wipe away my tears and take a deep breath. “I’ve never been in denial over it, but I felt isolated, and I s’pose if you consider wanting to kill yourself being depressed, then I was definitely that. Although, really, it wasn’t even that.”
“What d’ya mean?” he asks.
“Well, I had no great desire to kill myself or to be dead. I just didn’t want to live. I mean, if living meant a life with no Sean and no Beau, then I didn’t want it. I didn’t care how it was achieved; I didn’t care if I just died or if they just drugged me to the point where I didn’t exist, because that was fine, too. So, if you consider all those symptoms of depression, then yes, I was depressed.” I’m not sure where any of this is going, but I keep listening.
“Did you bargain at any time? Did you—”
I cut him off. “Constantly, all the time. I still do, and I probably always will: me for them or me and Sean for Beau. I know Sean would be pissed off with me for wanting to swap my life for his, but I know, without a shadow of a doubt, he would do anything to protect our son.”
Jackson nods as he listens to me. “Well, all of that is to be expected, but I think what’s happened since you’ve been here is that acceptance has crept up on you. Being here, away from anything Sean-related, has made you come to terms with the fact that he’s gone, and in turn, that realisation has made you angry.”
I swig the last of my beer. “Why are you teaching tourists how to surf? Why don’t you get yourself set up as a proper shrink and open a practice as a head doctor?” My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I can feel the blood whoosh up to my brain with every beat. It feels like it’s going to burst out of my ears on its way. I turn my head to look at him, and he gives me a gentle smile.
“Sorry if this all sounds a bit harsh and direct. I just want you to understand what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours.”
I smile back at him. “How’d you know my brain’s beautiful?”
His grin widens. “Because you’re related to me and we only do beautiful in this family.” I throw my head back and laugh, but before I get a chance to say any more, there’s a knock on the front door. “Shit, that’s Roman, and I smell like a fry-up. Let him in and keep him company while I have a quick shower, would ya please?”
“Why the fuck is Roman here?”
“Jax, fuck off. Don’t go all Bailey, Lennon, Marley on me, just let him in.”
I run to the bathroom and have possibly the quickest shower of my life, even managing to wash the smell of food out of my hair. I dry it off quickly and tie it up in a messy bun, then throw on some clothes. I’ve been less than twenty minutes, which for me, ain’t bad going.
As I step out of the bedroom, I hear Jackson talking.
“She’s done so well since she’s been here. I swear to fuckin’ God, if you set her back in any way, I will kill you, Rome.” I hover in the doorway of my bedroom, unsure of what I want to do. Okay, I’m lying. I’m a woman. I’m nosey. I know what I want to do, and that’s to stand here and listen to their conversation.
“Calm the fuck down, will ya, man? I only met her last night. It’s… I… Fuck, Jax, I don’t know. I only met her last night, and I had no idea who she was other than your cousin, but it was just…” He pauses and I stand frozen, with my hand over mouth; he has such a sexy accent, much stronger than Jackson’s as Jax was born and lived in England till he was about twelve. “It was like, you ever had that thing happen where it feels like your heart is joined to your dick and balls?” I hear Jackson laugh and I almost do, too. “It’s like there’s a bit of string running through your body and every time your heart beats, it pulls and makes your dick twitch and your balls go tight.” Jackson is really laughing now, and I have to step back inside the bedroom and try to compose myself. “Don’t fuckin’ laugh at me, dude. I’m spilling my guts here,” Roman complains, but I can hear the smile in his voice.