Home.
Where she belongs.
With me.
“Hey,” Taylor says, quietly, looking as tired as I feel.
“Hi.” I swallow and take her in. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she’s wearing my old New York sweatshirt and a pair of shorts that barely peek out beneath the hem of the worn and oversized top.
I haven’t seen that sweatshirt in years and it gives me a thrill knowing she’s kept it. That she’s wearing it now. That she came back to me.
“Do you want coffee?” I ask at the same time, she says, “We should talk.”
“Sure.” We both answer at the same time and grin at how we’ve talked over each other.
She clears her throat and says, “Sure, a coffee would be great. I’m just going to put my bag in my room.”
Put my bag in my room.
The statement replays the entire time I take a mug out of the cabinet and wait on a fresh pour to brew for her. The fact that she still considers it her room despite how things ended yesterday gives me hope. Even though I’d rather it be our room, our house, our life.
One step at a time.
Taylor comes out and sits on the couch. Her hands are tucked into her sweatshirt sleeves. She looks so small huddled in the corner. It kills me to see her making herself smaller in preparation.
I make myself a second cup of coffee, deciding I need the extra caffeine after a restless night’s sleep and to buy time before this conversation. Hoping beyond hope it’s not the end of us.
“Thank you.” She takes the cup from my hand and crosses her legs, facing me when I sit on the opposite end of the couch.
“Thank you for coming back.”
Taylor sips on the coffee, looking at me over the rim before speaking. “Sorry I left like that.”
“No, I’m sorry for how I acted when I came home. It was a rough trip, but that’s no excuse for taking out my bad attitude on you.”
She shakes her head. “You had every right to say what you said.”
“That may be true, but I could’ve kept a cooler head.”
“We’ve both made mistakes.” She averts her gaze to the side.
I lightly touch her knee until she looks back at me, unable to resist touching her. “You’re not a mistake to me, Tay.”
“I don’t think you’re a mistake either. Or us.Wewere never a mistake.”
I didn’t know how much I needed to hear those words from her until they left her mouth.
“What did you want to talk about?” There’s plenty I want tosay, but I want to give her the chance to get out what she needs to before we dive into what I want.
She stares into her mug and sighs before meeting my eyes again. “I wish I had a time machine so I could go back to the day I walked out and wait. To talk to you. To be honest with you and tell you everything that was happening. All the thoughts cluttering my mind. Most of all, so that I could tell you how much I love you.”
Love. Not loved.
“I love you too, Tay baby. I never stopped.”
“I didn’t either.” She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “But I also don’t know that it’s enough.”
“Okay.” I brace myself, already knowing this will hurt like hell.
