6
Jackson Reed and I were college classmates. Both top students in the law school, we were peers, and competitors. We met during a major debate competition. The topic was: If you had the superpower to make someone love you back, would you use it? Jackson and I were on opposing sides, and that debate was fierce. In the
end, my side won.
After the debate, he stopped me. “If I had that power, I’d use it without hesitation.” I was young and headstrong then, full of proud defiance. My words aimed directly at his heart. “Then you don’t deserve to be loved.”
Jackson looked at me deeply. “I love her, but I also respect her. As long as I don’t give up, she’ll see me.”
I smiled meaningfully. “So even the brilliant scholar has an unrequited love, huh?”
He said nothing, just watched me in silence. Later, we started interacting more frequently through student council, constantly clashing, outwitting each other at every turn. Over four years, we surprisingly became good friends.
On graduation day, Jackson asked me out for a drink. I went. He asked me what my plans were after graduation. I said, half–joking, “What else? For people from families like ours, it’s marriage, kids, and securing long–term partnerships for the family business.”
Jackson looked at me very seriously. “Can you wait, then? Five years at most. Can you wait for me?”
The bar was too loud. I didn’t actually hear what he said clearly. I drained my glass. Almost the instant I set it down, Jackson leaned in and kissed me.
That day, I fled, Not because of Jackson’s boundary–crossing action, but because I realized I was attracted to him, and I had responded. I was terrified of that feeling of losing control. I turned off my phone, cutting off all contact with the outside world. A week later, when I finally reconnected with my classmates, I learned that Jackson had gone abroad for advanced studies. He was gone for four years. Now he was back, and I was a married woman.
