Prologue
Hey, Jacob, it’s me… I have no idea why I’m texting you. It’s been almost ten years since we’ve lost you... I just… Well, I guess it’s because you were a big part of my life when everything was better, simpler... Safer… Anyway, I know you can’t and never will read this, but I just wanted you to know… I miss you.
2 years later
Hey Jacob, it’s me again, Skylar… I had a really rough day today… Nico hit me today. He swears he’ll never do it again, but I don’t know if I believe him… I don’t know what to do, he’s been the one who stood by me after my parents were gone, and my uncle says he’s a good man, and that I should just stick with him… I need to think… Hey, if you are with them, could you tell my Mom and Dad, I love them…
1 year later
Hey Jacob, I’m back… Nico proposed to me today… my uncle was ecstatic… Actually, everyone was… everyone but me… He hasn’t hit me for some time now... Not after he sent me to the ER with a broken rib and a sprained wrist… I tried to get away from him, I tried to leave him, but he brought me back four times now, and he had his men follow me… The worst part is … No one believes that he abuses me since my bruises are never visible... Hell, if anyone had suspicions, they’d be to help me run… I just… I need to get away… I said yes, BTW…
2 years later
Hey Jacob… this is probably the last time I’ll ever text you. I’m standing here in a beautiful wedding gown, all alone in this room wishing my parents were here… wishing you were here.
God, I wish for so many things, but my most prominent wish is that you would have survived… I so wish I hadn’t lost you that day… I want you to know that I’ll do my best to get away from Nico, even though I’m moments from marrying him… In a day, two, or even a year, I’ll find someone who will help me. I tried to leave him so many times now, and each and every time he finds a way to get me back. I just need time to get a little more strength or someone who’s crazy enough to go against him… I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me… I just have to do this then plot my way out… I want you to tell my parents that I’m strong, I haven’t caved and I never will… And that I love them… I love you too, Jacob… I wish we had more time… Skylar
Get out of there! I’m waiting in the car by the church. Run out, NOW!
Chapter One
Skylar
What the hell am I doing here?
The question kept running through my mind over and over again as I tried to read the message that popped up on my phone for the tenth time.
“This can’t be happening,” I muttered to myself as I tapped the screen on my phone to engage it and re-read the message again.
Get out of there! I’m waiting in the car by the church. Run out, NOW!
Logically, I knew there was no possible way that Jacob sent this message, not with him being dead for the last 15 years. In fact, in just a few days, it will be the anniversary of his death.
But still, my heart beat faster and harder with irrational thought that it could be him who sent the message.
I met Jacob on the first day of high school. He was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. I instantly fell in love with him. The next two years were full of failed attempts to get him to notice me. The thing that made it more difficult was the fact that he was on the football team and had a flock of girls following him everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. Debbie, the most popular girl in school, even got suspended for three days because she waited for him in the boy’s bathroom. I was invisible to him. All the smiles and shy hello’s that I threw his way, and then power walking down the hallway, in an attempt to get the hell out of there in a flash, appeared to go right over his head.
Then one day, he came and sat next to me on the bleachers. I used to sit there for hours with my notepad just drawing mindlessly and waiting for, hell, I don’t even know what.
“What are you doing over here?” the winded way he asked the question made me almost fall over onto my back.
“Who?” stupidly, I turned around, looking if there was someone else he was talking to.
“You, Sky,” he said through a crooked smile.
I was so fascinated with the droplet of sweat gliding down his forehead to his nose. I wasn’t able to say a word. I could feel a blush creeping its way up my neck. My voice went somewhere and abandoned me, so I just shrugged my shoulders and indicated with my head to the notepad that was on my legs. Pencil at the ready.
Yeah, I know, real cool.
Jacob didn’t mock me, didn’t say anything really, just glanced at the sketch I was working on, smiled hugely, and bumped my shoulder with his. And that was it.
From that day on, he always came to sit with me and soon after asked me out for the first time.
To say I was ecstatic was an understatement. I babbled all the way home about it, repeating what was said and what he did to Kiki, my cousin, who, for some reason, didn’t share my happiness or giddiness.
We were dating for a year when the shitstorm I called my life struck. On one sunny afternoon, the rug was swept from under my feet for the second time in my 17 years that I was on this Earth, plunging me into the darkness. It was a freak accident. Jacob was doing something, goofing around probably, out in front of his house when he tripped, banged his head on the curb, and was no more.
It took me years to recover from the loss, but somehow, in some way, I always went back to him. It gave me comfort to text him random stuff happening in my life, and made me feel less alone. When no one demanded that I stop after the first, second, and even the third text, I figured it was safe to continue my messages as if he were still alive.
Until now.
The phone vibrated in my hand, indicating a new text, scaring me back to the moment so much I had to swallow my scream. I chanced a glance at the closed door, making sure no one was standing there. I haven’t told anybody about the texts. I didn’t want them to think I was crazy. I knew how it sounded… Texting your dead boyfriend. It wasn’t like I expected a text in return.
Also, this was just mine and no one else's. I had a piece of Jacob with me that I didn’t want to share with anybody. When the door stayed closed, I looked back at my phone.
“Oh, God,” I moaned when Jacob’s name appeared on the screen again.
How could this be happening? For years there was no answer, as there shouldn’t be, and now I got two texts in a span of a minute. With my heart in my throat, I touched the screen again, thumbed my password digits and opened the text.
BLACK RANGE ROVER AT THE CURB. Get out and get in the car.
Could I do this? Could I just get out and not think about all the people that are waiting for me in the church and leave Nico and everything that’s been going on behind? Was it that simple?