I put my hands on her shoulders. “We all do stupid things when we're hurting and afraid. We can get past this."
"What if I'm still afraid?"
I look into her eyes. "Then you can be afraid with me." I'm reminding her of a pact we made when she was a little kid and she confessed to being afraid of the ski lift—a pact that she reversed when I told her I was afraid to go to Iraq.
For the first time, I see something like hope in her eyes. "You'll forgive me?"
I move closer. "Yes. I can't guarantee things will go back to the way they were, or that you won't get hurt again. Life is unpredictable and hard, but I know it's better when we're together. I'll do whatever it takes to hold on to you, if you'll let me." I wrap my arms around her and say the words I've been holding in for too long. "I still love you."
She buries her head in my chest. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m so sorry.”She’s sobbing now. Her tears are making my T-shirt wet. I pull her onto my lap and cradle her in my arms. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," I say over and over again, feeling that somehow, now it is.
I’m crying too. Hiding it better than she is. She looks up at me with her eyes still wet. “I need you to understand. I never stopped loving you. I won't ever stop loving you.”
The barrier between us melts. I’m not sure who moves first. I only know her lips are on mine.
We're still kissing when the clock chimes midnight.
She pulls away. "Happy New Year, Jacob."
"Happy New Year, Jess."
She smiles, tracing her finger over my lips. "It will be. I'm sure of it."
"I am too."
It feels like the beginning of what could be the best year of our lives. Whatever it takes, I'm not letting her go ever again.
sixty-two
Complicated
It takes me less than five minutes to change, throw a couple of pairs of pants and a few T-shirts, my razor and a toothbrush into a bag. Eager would be an understatement. Today couldn’t possibly have gone any slower. Now that I’m off, I’m free to get on the road. Free to go see Jess.
It’s been three weeks since I saw her, three weeks since we got back together, three weeks of talking on the phone for hours, getting to know each other again. Three weeks of wanting to hold her, wanting to kiss her again. Three long weeks, and now I can be with her.
I throw my bag onto the back seat of the Charger and climb in. I don’t even have the key in the ignition when my cell phone buzzes. A text fromJess.
Have u left yet?
I text back:Just starting the car. Can't wait to see you.
Her reply:Don’t leave. Not a good weekend for u to come.
That answer stops me.
What? You don’t want me to come?
It takes her a second to repeat:
Not a good weekend for u to come.
Y?
Complicated.
I stare at that for a long time. What’s complicated? Why didn’t she just call me with a straight answer? Why is she texting this?My mind fills with a thousand unwelcome thoughts.What are the odds Stephens bought a plane ticket and surprised her? That sounds like him.
Complicated? I want to see u.
