“Emmie,” he said, reaching out to touch my cheek. But then our names were called from the podium, and we had to go up to the front to get our medals. I walked up the steps in confusion. What had just happened? My best friend had kissed me, and I had sort of kissed him back. I didn’t know what to think about it. Did I like it? Did I likehimthat way? I didn’t know.
We didn’t have a chance to be alone in the aftermath of our win. The other teams from our school surrounded us, and we were separated in the chatter and hubbub. We didn’t get a chance to be alone that final week of school either. We saw each other every day, but always in class or at lunch, surrounded by friends and classmates. Every time I glanced in his direction, he was looking at me. He didn’t seek me out, and I didn’t approach him either. But I thought of that kiss often, still surprised by the way he’d held me, the firm joy of his mouth on mine. What did it mean? What could it mean? I was leaving. He was staying. There was nothing more to talk about.
And then came graduation day.
I shake my head, pained by the memory of him running up to me after the graduation ceremony, looking like a black crow with his graduation gown flapping around his wiry frame. He washolding a dozen red roses, still in cellophane from the grocery store. He grabbed me in a hug and held tight, in full view of my mom and dad and Dani. I was eye level with his Adam’s apple. I remember looking at a little patch of skin he’d scraped raw while shaving. I was confused. What was he doing?
And then he held me at arm’s length and spilled his heart out to me…publicly, bravely. He told me I was beautiful and so smart, that he’d never met a girl like me. He offered me the roses and asked me shyly to be his girlfriend. He told me he loved me. I was dumbfounded. I didn’t say it back. I didn’t say anything at all. What could I say?
“You broke my heart, Emmie,” Jakob says quietly from behind me. “That day when I gave my heart to you and you handed it right back.” I can still hear the sharp note of pain in his voice. Old hurts can still sting, even after all these years.
I didn’t mean to hurt him, though I know I did. I remember stepping back from his embrace on graduation day, feeling a mixture of shock and embarrassment, aware of the eyes all around us, watching with curiosity. That guileless look of heartbreak on his face when I handed back the roses has haunted me for years.
“Jakob, I can’t. I’m sorry.” That’s what I’d whispered to him, feeling awful but also sure of my decision.
I hadn’t known what to say until I was faced with his feelings for me, and then it all became clear, standing there on the high school lawn. There was no future for us. So I told him how much I cared about him, but that I saw him as a friend and nothing more. And that had been true. I had made it true. Because I was leaving Poulsbo, ready to embrace a whole new life, and I couldn’t let anything stand in my way. Not even Jakob.
There was another reason too, one I couldn’t tell him about, one I still can’t talk about. Jakob doesn’t know about the visionsin our family, about how much sway they hold over our decisions and our future. And I can’t tell him the whole truth. It’s a secret, passed down from generation to generation, held tight by the women and only shared with a select, trusted few. However, that secret has affected my relationship with every man I’ve ever cared for. Because the truth is that somewhere in my heart of hearts, I’ve been afraid to fall in love with someone before receiving my vision. What if I fell for someone, and then my vision showed me a different purpose for my life? A different person who is my destiny? What then?
For years I’ve kept a little part of my heart reserved until I saw my future and knew it was safe to love the right person, the person I am supposed to be with. I didn’t give my whole heart to Jakob or Romaine or the other guys I dated. I couldn’t risk falling in love and then finding out it couldn’t last.
It’s felt a little like holding my breath, waiting to see who I can wholeheartedly love. And now I know. I’ve seen my future, and it isn’t Jakob Kristensen. I was right to hold myself back from him, even though I regret that I hurt him. I’ve waited years to try to make amends. Now I have that chance.
I twist in my kayak seat so I can see him. “I’m really sorry I hurt you, Jakob,” I tell him, meeting his gaze. “I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn’t see how our lives could fit. I was going to Europe. I was going to have a life that wasn’t in Poulsbo. I’d already gotten accepted into the chocolatier program in Switzerland. I knew I wanted to take an apprenticeship in Paris. And you wanted to stay.”
Jakob sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m not blaming you,” he clarifies. “It just hurt. I was head over heels for you, and after we kissed, I thought you felt the same way about me.”
“I didn’t know how I felt,” I tell him. “I was confused, but I had a different life waiting for me.”
He considers me, then nods, accepting the answer.
“Did you really join the Marines because of me?” I toy with the handle of my paddle. I’ve wondered this for years.
“Yes,” Jakob says flatly. “After you said no to me, I couldn’t see a future in Poulsbo anymore. I couldn’t imagine waking up every day and being seen as the boy Emmie Wynne rejected, and I couldn’t imagine a life here without you. So I left. The Marines seemed like the farthest thing from my old life. I enlisted, and it turned out to be a pretty good fit for me. I learned discipline and endurance, how to keep going when you think you’re one step away from dying.” He shrugs. “All in all, it worked out for the best.”
I stare at him. He’s right. Becoming a Marine was good for him. He’s centered and self-assured without being cocky. He seems at ease in his own skin. Still thoughtful—as evidenced by my extra-sweet latte this morning—still watchful and astute, but tempered by a laid-back sort of confidence that is really extremely sexy. Not to mention the body the Marines has given him. It’s like he’s still got the mind of a debate squad captain, but now it’s housed in the body of a Norse demigod. I realize I’m staring at his abs through that tight, faded shirt, craning my neck so far around I look like an owl. And what’s worse is that he’s just watching me stare at his abs and smirking. Gaah! I flick a little water on him with my paddle.
“Oh no you don’t,” he growls, purposefully rocking the kayak and making a grab for my paddle.
I shriek. He laughs and lunges for my paddle again, which I snatch out of his grasp at the last second. And the tension of the moment is broken.
“I really am sorry,” I tell him sincerely. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You were one of my best friends, and I’ve regretted how I handled things all these years. If I could do it differently, I would.”
“Oh yeah? What would you do differently?” he asks, tilting his head and eyeing me.
I consider this. “I would still have said no,” I tell him. “I had a lot of growing up to do, and I needed to do it outside of Poulsbo. I loved my training in Switzerland and my time apprenticing in Paris. I don’t regret my choice—I got to do what I love—but I do regret how publicly I rejected you.
“If I were to do it over, I’d take the roses and I’d loudly say thank you. I’d give you a kiss on the cheek and tell you that you were the best guy I knew. Then I’d quietly tell you that I wasn’t ready for a relationship but that I cared a lot about you. And then as I was leaving I’d yell really, really loudly so everyone could hear, ‘Some girl is going to be so lucky to have you.’ ”
He smiles at this, a flicker of amusement. “That would have eased the sting a bit,” he admits. “But then I might not have gotten the push to leave town and join the Marines. It all worked out for the best in the end, I guess. I got a pension and killer abs and you got…”
“Tired and chubby?” I supply.
He shoots me a disbelieving look. “Emmie, are you fishing for compliments?” His tone is slightly reproving.
“No. Maybe,” I mumble, feeling my face flush red. I swear, I’ve blushed more in the last week than in the past sixteen years combined. What is wrong with me?
“You’ll always be the prettiest girl in school to me,” Jakob says with a little wry grin.
