He let out a shaky laugh, brushing his forehead against mine as he pulled me even closer.
“I’m never letting you walk away again.”
“Good,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks and into my smile, “because I didn’t come here to walk away.”
He smiled at that. His hands wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me tightly, and for once, I didn’t try tomemorize the feel of him. Because this time, I wouldn’t only have the memory—I’d have him.
We kissed and held each other for what must have been hours that day. We didn’t talk about anything. We just… stayed. Letting the love flow over and surround us. Letting it make us whole and live as it always should have.
We spent the entire next day tangled in each other in every way we could imagine.
And the next day.
And the day after that.
We mended days and months and years of heartbreak with the tying of our souls, and we silently vowed we would never let go. Because we’d finally never have to.
On Sunday, we made peach cobbler pie, and let it burn in the oven as we lost ourselves in each other once again. It was just as delicious as our first, maybe even better.
“You’re sure you want this?” he asked me as we lay in his bed. It had been nearly a week, and he was still asking. Still unsure if I was really going to stay, or if I’d run off again like I had so many times before. He was right to be scared, after all I had put him through. But I wasn’t running this time. I was certain. And as I lay wrapped under his arm, in his perfect nook that seemed made just for me, I gave him every ounce of truth within me.
“Yes,” I said with a smile as I turned my eyes up to his. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.” He kissed my temple, then he brought his mouth to my ear and whispered, “this is forever, Syd. There’s no getting out.”
He said it like I didn’t know. Like I didn’t know choosing to be with him was choosing the rest of my life.Like I didn’t know loving him meant setting fire to every exit and watching the smoke rise behind me. I always knew. It’s what scared the hell out of me for so long. But it was also what gave me the greatest peace I had ever known.
Still, I had to tease him.
“Forever-forever, or like Taylor Swift forever, where it all goes up in flames, but you get a really good album out of it?”
He chuckled.
“Forever-forever,” he promised, dancing his fingers through mine, his other hand behind his head. “Even when you’re stubborn and annoying.”
“Oh, that’s a big promise,” I said, placing my hand on his chest to rest my chin. “Cause I plan on beingreallyannoying. Stubborn, too.”
“Always have been,” he shrugged.
“Hey!” I slapped his chest lightly, and he let out a low and gravelly laugh.
“I love you,” I said when our laughter settled. “Forever.” And I meant it. The words were full of nothing but warmth and heart and soul and truth, and I watched as they lit his eyes and filled him.
“I loveyouforever.” He tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear and smiled before he took my chin in his hand and kissed me once more. Then he held me tightly and didn’t let go.
I woke up early the next morning, wrapped in his strong arms. I lay there for a long while in complete contentment, eyes closed, a slight curve to my lips, and my back nestled against him and all his warmth. In that moment of completetranquility, I thanked God for everything that had brought me there.
I thanked Him for my parents’ eviction, which moved me from the city to a random suburban town I swore I’d never call home. I thanked Him for the insane upbringing that left me shattered and ruined, and led to all the wrong choices I had to heal from. I thanked Him for horrible first boyfriends and disloyal best friends who broke my spirit too young. I thanked Him for the moments when I thought I lost it all. And then I thanked Him for giving it all back to me when all I did was ask.
I thanked God for the broken roads He sent me on—every single one. Because all of them, even the ugly, winding ones, had led me straight to E.
When I reluctantly chose to pry myself free, I put on a random shirt of his, tied my hair back in a loose ponytail, and made coffee and pancakes with extra-crispy bacon—the way we’d order it from the diner on the mornings after I tried to escape home. When E woke, he groggily strolled to the island in nothing but those thin sweatpants I loved so much. He stared at me and smiled a knowing, crooked grin as he sipped his black coffee from his seat.
“What?” I asked bashfully when I noticed he’d been staring a second too long.
“Nothing,” he said with a slight shake of his head.
I tilted my head and placed a hand on my hip as I turned to face him.
