“Ellie, I love you. I'minlove with you. Not the version of yourself you think everyone needs to see, but you—the real you?—”
She shook her head. “You can't love me. You don't really know me.”
“I know you. I know you get completely lost in a story because it grabs hold of something deep inside you and won't let go. I know you like to laugh in the back of a cop car after we broke into someone's house like it's the most natural thing in the world.”
She blinked back tears, and I stepped closer.
“Sawyer…”
“I know the woman who shows up to my games, even though football might as well be a foreign language to you. I know the goofy, ridiculous Ellie who dances with me on Christmas morning and ambushes me with snowballs when I least expect it. Iknowexactly who you are, Ellie. Iloveexactly who you are.” I closed the distance and cupped her cheek. “I love every part of you. The person you are on stage, the one you are off it.”
Her breath hitched, and I took a small step back.
“You say that now,” she said, her voice shaking. “But what happens when the novelty wears off? When I'm not a project to figure out anymore?”
“Ellie, you aren't just some project to me. I can't breathe when you're around. It's like my body can't keep up with how much I need you. And when you're not?” I shook my head. “Fuck, it's worse. It's as if I forget I'm running on empty until you're back.”
She pressed a hand to her chest and searched my face. “Don’t…”
“You were the woman I crushed on for years, and I thought maybe it was just that—some silly thing I'd eventually grow out of. But you're not who I thought you were. You're so much more. This isn't a phase or some fake relationship. It's you. I mean, fuck, I've built my days around the chance to see you or hear your voice. I've taken whatever you've been willing to give, hoping and waiting for you to feel the same.”
She took a step back. “You can't say things like that.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “This was supposed to be simple.”
“Guess I’m not built for simple. I’ve been the funny guy, the steady one, the guy who laughs things off so nobody actually sees me. Then, you walked in, and now, I can’t pretend that’s all I am.”
Her expression softened, and she looked up at me through her lashes.
“I see you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I've always seen you.”
“Just tell me the truth.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Because I can’t do the back-and-forth anymore.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “You want the truth? The truth is, you terrify me. Not because of who you are, but because of what you make me want. What you make me feel.”
She turned away, running her hands through her hair in that frustrated way that made my chest ache.
She continued, her voice low but steady. “I’ve spent years keeping pieces of myself locked away. Not just because it feels safer, but because every time I let someone close, it backfired. They got a look at the mess underneath and decided it wasn’t worth sticking around. So, I learned to play the part. If I stop, if I admit I don’t want this constant grind anymore, I’ll let everyone down.”
Her arms tightened around herself. “You…you’re the exception I never planned for. You slipped past all the defenses I swore I’d never let down. And that scares me more than anything, because I don’t know how to keep being the version of me the world wants and the version of me you see. I don’t even know if that version is worth loving.”
“You are worth it, El.”
“Be realistic for a second. You're going back to Woodstone. Our lives don’t make sense together. We'll be in different places. Different lives. You'll be with your family. I'll be on tour. We'll be?—”
“I’d be wherever you are.”
That stopped her cold. Something shifted in her expression—surprise, hope, and terror all at once.
“I’d follow you anywhere, Ellie. I can be there for them and still choose you. This doesn't have to be one or the other.”
She stared at me like I'd offered her something she'd never dared to dream of. Her lips parted, but no words came out at first.
“You don't understand,” she finally managed to say. “I’m not good at this. At letting people stay. At believing they want to.”
“Then let me prove it to you.”
She closed her eyes, pressing her palms against them like she could push back the tears. When she opened them again, they were red-rimmed but determined.
“I…I need time. I need to think about it.”
