“Thank you,” I say fervently. I dip a fry in my milkshake, overwhelmed with a feeling of relief at having someone take care of this, take care of me. It feels like such a luxury. Dealing with cars has never been my strong suit. My dad always handled car-related things before he died. Since his decline, Mom and I have muddled through on our own.
“Thank you for coming even after…what happened the other night,” I say quietly.
He chews a fry and looks at me, assessing. “Why?” he asks.
“Why what?” I’m not sure what he’s asking.
“Why are you fighting whatever is between us? Are you really so against the idea of being with me that you won’t even give it a chance?” He takes a bite of burger without taking his eyes off me. I see a flicker of hurt in his stare.
I stall for time, dipping fries in the milkshake, trying to formulate a kind but evasive answer. I find it hard to think under his penetrating icy-blue gaze.
“I’m just not sure it’s the right thing for us to be together,” I finally reply.
“Liar,” Jakob says calmly.
I stare at him in surprise. I forgot who I was dealing with. This is Jakob, high school debate champion. He’s got a razor-sharp mind, keen instincts, and a habit of tenaciously digging to get to the root of a matter, no matter what.
“What are you not telling me, Emmie?” he asks pointedly.
I hesitate, feeling caught.
He arches a brow. “I’ve got all night and nowhere to be,” he says, leaning back and crossing his legs at the ankle, a mild threat to wait me out. For a moment I waver. Should I tell him? Try to deflect? Claim confusing feelings for Henry, which is not a lie? But Jakob knows me well. He can read me, and I have a feeling there’s no way he’s going to settle for less than the truth.
He sits there patiently, eating fries like he’s got all the time in the world. Eating fries he brought to me in CANADA when he drove three and a half hours to bail me out, even after I’d rejected him for the second time in our lives. If anyone deserves the truth, it’s him.
“Okay, you want to know what’s really going on?”
“Are you finally going to tell me the truth?” he asks calmly.
So while I eat my burger and finish my fries, I tell him everything, about the gift given to the women in our family, about mygreat-grandmother Signe’s candle. And then I tell him about what I saw in my vision.
When I’m done, he takes a long drink of his soda until the straw makes the loud sputtering sound signaling more air than liquid going through it. Then he puts down the cup and fixes me with a disbelieving stare.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says flatly.
I’m taken aback by his response. “I’m serious.”
Jakob frowns at me. “Are you in love with Henry Summers?” His question is blunt and to the point. I hesitate. Is that what he got from my explanation? I thought there was a lot more nuance to it.
“Well…not exactly. Not yet.”
He raises a skeptical brow. “But you think he’s the best choice for you, the man you could see a future with?”
Again, I hesitate. I think of Henry jetting off around the world as Gus and I stay behind, I think of his sweet but awkward way with my son, and those goodnight kisses that always feel…nice, but not knees-to-jelly fantastic.
And then I let my gaze drift to Jakob. I picture all the times he’s patiently guided Gus to use a tool correctly, his big roughened hand covering my son’s small one as he shows him the correct way to measure, cut, or hammer a nail. I see him kneading dough, forearms straining. Those same hands pinning me firmly to the marble table as he kissed me like he was dying of thirst and I was cool, clear water.
“Um…”
“Thought so,” Jakob says, sounding smug. He picks up his soda and takes another noisy sip that’s mostly air, then rattles his ice in the cup. “So let me get this straight. You blew out a candle and saw a vision of what you think your destiny is, and becauseHenry walked into the shop and you found a floaty yellow dress, you’re going to base all your decisions on that five-second vision, regardless of what you really want?”
It sounds idiotic when he states it like that.
“You don’t understand. It’s my purpose in life…” I start to protest. “It’s the best thing for me. It’s what I want…” It sounds lame even to my ears when I say it.
“Is it though?” Jakob cuts me off. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. He’s got his argument face on. I recognize it from our debate tournaments all those years ago. “I mean, if you really want Henry, by all means, go ahead. But can you honestly say you haven’t thought about what it would be like between us? You haven’t wondered or wanted more when I’ve kissed you? Because frankly, Emmie, you don’t seem like a woman who’s in love with someone else. You certainly don’t kiss like one.”
He sits back and folds his arms across his chest, eyeing me coolly. My cheeks flame hot with embarrassment under his gaze. I feel so agitated I could pop. Not because he’s wrong, but because he’s so right. He’s right, but I’m afraid. If I follow my heart, what will happen? How could the vision possibly come true? What if I mess everything up? It seems too risky, no matter what I feel for Jakob Kristensen. I’m stuck between my fear and my desire.
