“You don’t!” I shout. I step closer to him and grab his arms. “We’ve created a version of us in our heads, JP! We—you and I—don’t exist! Not in this life or the next. We weren’t... we weren’t...” My chest heaves, and my fingers relax around his forearms as I grow dizzy. My gaze wanders around the space between us, trying and failing to explain it. This feeling of neverland between us.
“You’re right. We weren’t. But we should have been,” he answers with enough passion that he’s nearly shouting. It’s almost as if his own confession surprises him because he pauses, hesitating and averting his eyes so they land on anything but me. My chest quakes and pounds and breaks the longer I watch the torment on his expression. “We could have been,” he corrects himself.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.”
“You loved Audrey. And I love Donavan.” I say it because I need it to be true. We can’t be these people. The ones who secretly discuss how to hurt people in the worst way.
“I did.” He blinks hard, and I ignore the streams igniting his face. “But I can’t unlove you.”
My throat aches so much I can barely swallow. I can’t tell if it’s a panic attack or my thyroid being a bitch.
“This is cruel, JP,” I whisper, then shout because my soul can’t bear it anymore. “I was falling in love with you and you took that from me! You didn’t call. You got married! And I forced myself to move on even when I felt stuck in that November night, holding you in the snow while your family argued about a stupid card game.”
He blinks away. I hope he remembers it the way I do. I hope he feels the ache in his chest. The promise of maybe. This checkmate is more like a stab wound straight to the heart. When he finally collects himself, he stares straight at me, seeing through the hurt and betrayal.
“I can’t unlove you,” he repeats. “But Iwillalways love you, Jules. And I want the very best for you, and he is not it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You’re making up shit because you’re sad.” I don’t attempt to hide my crassness at all.
“I’m not,” he argues, jaw tight, green eyes glistening with every emotion.
“Fine. Then how do you know?” I ask, splaying out my hands before me.
“He dismisses all of your accomplishments—he said you weren’t a real doctor, for Christ’s sake,” he scoffs like the notion disgusts him.
“He was joking,” I defend him.
“Belittling someone isn’t funny.”
“Uncle Charlie made fun of me for being a therapist.” I cross my arms, bracing for impact.
“For inflicting ‘trauma’”—his air quotes give me heart palpitations—“during a game of Uno!Thatwas a joke, Jules.”
“Whatever.”
“He thinks you named Kevin after the dog fromUp!”
“Well, it’s a good movie,” I reason.
“The dog’s name is Dug in the movie!”
My chest warms despite my anger. “I love that you know that.”
“I teach kindergarten. Of course I know that.” The argument is so ridiculous that it makes me smile through my tears, but JP’s frown deepens as he steps closer, eating up every particle between us. “He defends all of your mom’s behavior—”
“He’s trying to be the voice of reason.”
“He’s never seenDances With Wolves.”
“It’s not for everyone.”
“He wants a huge wedding when you clearly don’t.”
