He hesitates. That scares me more than anything. I wonder if I pushed too far when hekeeps quiet.
My voice is bold and strong, it almost surprises me. “You can’t just run every time something gets hard. You of all people know that.”
“I’m not running away. I’ve got a career to try and salvage,” he says, a little more of an edge to his voice. Good. It means there’s something to grab and hold on to.
Lifting my hands in fake surrender, I press, “You’re not playing for Chicago. You know you don’t have to go back.”
“That’s where my agent is—” he tries to reason.
“Colson, there are phones. Quit making excuses.” I almost stomp my foot, the rage bubbling in my belly. I want him to hear me. There’s no room for Sunshine Sadie right now.
He looks away, then back to me, his eyes dark blue like stormy waves. “I’m not making excuses.”
“No?” I keep pushing him. Each word has brow furrowed, knitting tighter and tighter.
“No! I’m trying to let you keep your life here, untouched. You were fine before I got here and I’d imagine you’ll be fine when I leave.” Colson’s words are plain but cut like a knife.
“Sounds like another excuse.” I cross my arms over my chest, holding on as if I’m keeping myself together.
“Sadie, I promise that you don’t need me,” he laughs, completely self-deprecating. “I’m the storm cloud. The one that ruins the beach day you’ve been planning for weeks.”
I hate how he’s trying to convince himself that I’m better off without him.
“You don’t need me. See, you’re like the sun. Bright. The perfect summer day that people wish for.” His voice fades; I hate that’s how he sees himself.
Colson shakes his head, eyes on the ground. It seems the small piece of ground I may have gained is slipping from my fingers. I can feel the waves of disappointment rolling off of him. I can’t imagine him leaving like this.
There’s no way. This can’t be it.
I take another step and we’re close enough that I could reach out and touch him. “Fine. If we’re making excuses, can I try?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, it tastes like risk and feels like I’m about to crumble.
His hand cuts through the summer air, telling me, “Go ahead.” He says it like a joke. Like he’s on the verge of annoyance.
Pressing my lips into a thin line, tears prick at my eyes and I look up. The sky is gorgeous. Whispers and puffs of color dance together, shades of pink and pieces of lush orange, as the sun is setting. It feels like a sign.
Wiping my eyes, I plead, “How about this? You can’t run away, because, you see, I’m completely and ridiculously in love with you. You’re wrong—I do need you. And if I’m the sun… that means you’re the sunset. All those gorgeous colors, changing the entire sky, making the wait feel so worth it.”
It feels like time stops and I’m having an out-of-body experience. I feel the words leave my mouth, I hear them, but it’s like I’m watching this play out. Like a movie. My stomach ties a knot so tight I press my hand to it, to see if I can feel it.
Colson looks like he’s frozen in place. The seconds drag, pulling me through gravel without any shoes on.
“What did you just say?” His voice is lighter than I expected.
I take a breath, filling my lungs to try and get the words out. “I said that I love you.” The words tumble and fall on top of each other.
He closes the space between us, his thumbs wiping away rogue tears I didn’t know I’d given up, and then his lips are on mine. I sink into it, let him hold me up, the way he’s done more than once since being here.
When he pulls away, he says, “Sadie, I—”
“You don’t have to say it back. It’s… I needed to tell you the truth and–”
His lips find mine again, interrupting me in the best way. When he pulls away this time, his finger replaces his lips and he says, “Sadie, I love you.”
I kiss him like he’s leaving. I kiss him like he’s staying. Mostly, I kiss him in a way that makes me feel like I can’t get enough.
We break apart and I damn near beg, “Let me help you. I can help you fix this.” I act like my voice isn’t shaking and continue. “Stay. Don’t leave. Please don’t run.”
