After a few minutes and a couple of long exhales, Sawyer does too. “Why are you telling me now?” he asks quietly.
“I wanted to be honest with you.”
True. But not quite what needed to be said.
I chew on the inside of my cheek a couple of times, then add, “And it felt like it mattered that you knew the truth.”
“And it didn’t before?”
“It didn’t seem like you cared before. Care in the way I wanted you to. And now, I thought … but maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s been too long or too much has happened or …” I sigh. “I just needed to tell you. You deserve to be mad about it. I’d be mad if you lied.”
“Figured it was because you’re my girlfriend now.”
My brain fixates on those last four words, not catching up to his teasing tone for a few seconds.
“You shouldn’t kiss girls hello,” I say. “Or they’ll all get thatimpression.”
“I don’t kiss other girls, Wren.”
He’s not teasing anymore. Sawyer sounds serious. Very serious.
“Since-since when?”
“Since you kissed me, in case you died.”
“But I—but that was … I said that … I kissed you the night we met.”
He nods.
“That was almost five years ago.”
He nods again.
“You … you’ve done other stuff—I don’t want details—right? Like, you’ve been with other people since we met?”
“No.”
I blink at him. “Don’t you dare fuck with me, Sawyer. Not about this. If this is your way of getting even because I lied about?—”
“No, Wren. The answer is no. I haven’t kissed, sucked, licked, touched, fucked, done anything with anyone else since we met. If it wasn’t with you, nothing happened.”
“But …” I start crying. Not delicate tears. Sobs that shake my shoulders and don’t stop, even when I press my palms against my eyes.
Sawyer grumbles something I can’t hear over my hysteria, then pulls me onto his lap. Right next to my ear, he says, “Wren. Fuck. It’s fine. Forget I said anything.”
I cry harder, turning my face against his shirt, breathing in his scent and trying to exhale my frustration.
All this time, I was entirely convinced I cared more. That I’d always care more. That something was seriously wrong with me for only wanting one person, especially when that one person didn’t share the same mindset. I’m so relieved, so floored, that I was completely wrong.
Isnuggle closer, my head nestling naturally against his shoulder, mouth even with his collarbone. I kiss him there first, then higher, working my way up the column of his throat, shifting so I’m straddling him.
“Wren.Wren.” His hands are on my cheeks, thumbs swiping away the salty tracks, expression concerned. “We’re not—you’re upset.”
I shake my head. As much as I can with his hands bracketing my face at least. “I’m not upset. I’m happy. Overwhelmed mostly.”
“Well, I’m confused.”
I exhale. “I spent years thinking I couldn’t move on from someone who never got attached to me. Finding out you never moved on either was … a lot.”
