“Em,” he says, then looks down at our hands, like he’s not sure what to say next. Like he’s scared of what to say next.
And maybe I am a little, too. But I’m done with letting fear get the better of me, and after today, I think he is, too.
“That stuff you said up there . . .” I say, trailing off.
“Yeah.That stuff.”
“I’m so sorry that you’ve been so afraid you were going to lose me. I’m so sorry I made that worse this week.”
“No, Em, you don’t need to—” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t your fault. Like, I get it. You were right about the disconnect, and I didn’t even know it was there, but it was hurting you.”
My eyes start to burn again. “Only because I thought you didn’t want a future with me.”
“That was never the case.” His eyes are shining, too. “You’re what I want more than anything in the world. But I just never—I knew that one day you’d see how much better you deserved than me, and I think . . .” He blinks rapidly. “Every step forward felt like a step closer to losing you.”
“It was hard to plan something you didn’t think you’d get to have,” I say quietly.
“Yeah.”
I rub my thumb over his knuckle. “Did a Real Not-Wife actually save our relationship?”
“Maybe.” He looks down again, and I wonder if he’s not sure our relationshiphasbeen saved. Before I can say all the things I need him to hear, though, he continues. “She was right about my fear of rejection. I’m so scared to lose you.” His voice breaks on that last word, and my heart cracks apart.
I scoot closer, turning so I’m tucked up against his side. “You aren’t losing me.”
A tear spills down his cheek, and he brushes it away. “It’s so hard to believe, though. Like, that I won’t mess this up, or that I haven’t messed this up, after everything this week and even all the hurt I caused before, and I didn’t even know—”
“Jason.” I place a hand on his cheek and turn him to face me.To look into my eyes. “You haven’t messed this up. You’re not going to mess this up.”
He opens his mouth, probably to argue that I can’t know, but I put my fingers on his lips to stop him.
“No,” I say. “I was thinking last night about you not wanting things to change and me wanting to move forward. And I knew that if we couldn’t work that out, that I’d still stay, even if it meant I couldn’t have the future I wanted.Youare what makes that future something I want so desperately. Living together, getting married someday, having kids, having this whole combined life—I want that with you, but most of all, I want you, and us. Even if it means I can’t have those other things.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, and more tears spill over. “Idowant all those things. I want them so badly with you.”
“We’re worth fighting for, even if it’s hard,” I say, squeezing him tighter. “You’re worth everything to me.”
A sob escapes him. I tip up and press my lips gently against his.
But this doesn’t feel close enough. I climb onto his lap so I’m straddling him, facing him directly. His arms instinctively reach around me.
“You are more than good enough for me,” I say. “You are truly good and smart and loyal and the most fun person to be around in the whole world. You are awesome at your job, and you throw yourself into everything you do—your show, being there for your mom and sisters, for your friends. Lovingme.”
“That part’s pretty easy,” he says, his voice gravelly.
“That’s how I feel about loving you. Because even when we’re fighting or scared or not talking like we should, being in love with you is never in question.That part’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s never going to stop, Jason. And you’re never going to lose me. Not ever.”
He makes a little sound, like a whimper, and then the dam breaks. He starts sobbing and sobbing, and my heart is breaking all to pieces for him, but also, I know somehow—even as dumb as I am when it comes to feelings—that this is something he’s been needing to do for a long time. I hold him while he cries, tears running down my own cheeks.
I’m going to hold him for as long as it takes. I’m going to hold him forever.
Twenty
Jason
Emily leans closer, straddling me, her mouth just inches from mine. “I’m here. I’m still here, Jason. You don’t have to be afraid.”
I’m afraid, anyway, and I don’t know how to make it stop. “I’m sorry,” I say, but I can’t seem to stop crying, like I’ve bottled all that up for too long, and now that it’s out, I don’t know what to do with it.
