Though they manage to creep back in throughout the day when I don’t hear from him at all.
THIRTY-SIX
I haven’t seen Jesse since he walked out the door at seven this morning, and it’s nearly five thirty. Thankfully, my texts have not gone unanswered, though they all received little more than a single-word response or worse, a thumbs-up emoji, which has done nothing at all to ease my anxieties.
H: Hey! Emma’s getting antsy. Should we wait for you or head over to your parents’ house without you?
Every moment since he left the house has been drenched in nervous energy, though I did my best not to let Emma feel it. I texted Nat and Wren a bit throughout the day, and both checked in to ask how Emma is doing. At midday, Wren called to chat and told me that the fairgrounds are already all cleaned up, thanks to a group of volunteers Adam coordinated without her knowledge. That, at least, gave me a bit of joy, knowing my best friend found the one person who is genuinely the perfect match for her.
When my phone beeps with a new text, I reach for it quickly, and when I read it, my heart drops to the ground.
J: Head over, I’m running late.
Dread curls in my stomach, but when Emma speaks, I force a happy smile to my lips.
“Was that Dad?” I nod.
“Yup! He says he’s running late and to head to your grandparents’.” She nods, then heads to the kitchen for the cookies we baked today, when I needed to distract myself. The house is also sparkling clean, and I spent extra time on my hair today, blowing it out sleek instead of letting it air-dry.
No matter how many times I tell myself not to worry, it creeps back in, that lost look on Jesse’s face haunting me.
What if he’s off trying to figure out how to let me down easy? What if all of my worst fears are about to come true? What if he decided he actually doesn’t want a relationship and wants to revert to his old plan of not dating until Emma’s out of the house?
Where will that leave me?
And more importantly, how the hell will I survive that?
These are the questions that have plagued me all day, mixed in with the voice of that hurt little girl whispering in my ear that maybe I really am just that easy to leave.
But I push all of it aside, putting on my widest, fakest smile as Emma and I walk over to the main house for dinner. I grin as I greet everyone, giving out hugs as if I haven’t seen them in days, versus hours. Madden asks me quietly how Emma’s doing, and Mr. King gives me more than one sly smile that makes absolutely no sense to me.
But even stranger, no one asks where Jesse is.
Dinner is long over, and Mrs. King and Wren are setting the table for dessert while Madden, Emma, and I play a lackluster round of Clue in the den when the front door opens. A moment later, a very frazzled-looking Jesse stands in the doorway. His hair is tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it nonstop, and there’s what looks like a folder in his hand as he scans around the room, his eyes finding me quickly.
The brightest, widest grin takes over his face, eyes crinkling with the move, and even though I’m still an anxious, stressed mess, some of his clear joy sifts through me. He takes three long strides to me before he bends, grabbing my hand and tugging me up.
“Jesse?” I ask, but he doesn’t say anything, just starts moving with his hand in mine, leading me out of the den. He pauses in the hallway, looking around as if unsure of where to go next. “Jesse.” My voice is firmer now, but his hand tightens on mine, and he turns, moving toward the stairs and pulling me up them. When we’re at the top, he moves toward what used to be his room and steps in, closing the door behind him.
“Hey,” Jesse says, casual as could be, pulling me into him and pressing a hard kiss to my lips. I return it for a moment before I pull back, looking at him with irritation.
“What the hell, Jesse?” I ask, stepping back. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry, I missed dinner. I was running errands all day.”
“It was family dinner. What kind of errands could have been so important? What is happening?” I cross my arms on my chest and stare at him, the speech I’d been planning flying from my mind. “Were you trying to get space from me?” I ask, suddenly feeling that vulnerability I’ve been trying to hide away all day come out.
“What?” he asks, confusion taking over his face. “No. Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. So, could you let me down easy? Set me free to chase my dreams or whatever bullshit you were rambling on about this morning?”
His look of confusion turns to entertainment, and he shakes his head, stepping closer to me and pulling me in with one arm.
“Hallie, I love you. I’m not letting you chase anything without me,” he says, then shakes his head, stepping back. “I’m fuckingthis up.” He moves to the desk, slapping what I thought was a folder onto the table. His back blocks my view as he opens it and starts looking for something.
“I talked to my dad, and we agreed I’ve gotta be home at least every other week this summer, but next year we can probably add it into the budget to have someone here part-time to help him out so we can leave for longer stretches,” he says, confusing me further. “So we’ll start small this year.”
“Start small?”
