“Whatever. I have to grab my bag.”
Lifting my feet, I broke them free from the sand and shook them cleanish. I hadn’t realized how cold it had been so many layers down, but now my toes were freezing. The walk to Mike was a little awkward. I’d never seen him look so intense. His normally relaxed features were pulled tight, making him resemble Jamison more than ever.
“Sorry this all got so . . . dramatic,” I said.
He took hold of June’s hand. “As long as she’s good, I’m fine.”
“I am,” she assured him.
It made my heart ache watching them sometimes, wanting the same unconditional support.
I overheard Mike ask again if she was okay as I walked toward the tent to get my clutch from where I’d left it on the table. The wind carried her admission that she might have inserted herself into my life too much. I had a looming feeling that I’d handled one crisis just to walk into another one. But maybe that was just the pessimistic side of me coming through. I barely caught his retort, something along the lines of being shocked by Jamison’s response.
My phone buzzed inside the little bag, and I pulled it out making my way to the path leading to my building. Alicia had sent me a photo of her ex-husband turned now-boyfriend, Remi, sleeping with his cat curled up on his chest, and her dog stretched out on his legs. I let it give me a bit of comfort. If they could transcend all of their past and issues to be together in a healthy way, then Jamison and I could too.
I was willing to figure it out.
He just had to be willing too.
The hallway to our rooms stretched longer than the whole rest of the walk had. As if it took two extra steps to span the space than it ever had before, but eventually I stood outside of his door. It stood solid and impartial; completely unperturbed that it was between me and the man I loved. That it may possibly be the final boss in whatever game Jamison and I were playing.
With clammy hands, I knocked. After a few nervous beats of my heart, his footsteps padded closer and the door opened.
He’d unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and his hair fell in chaotic tufts as if he’d been running his hands through it. He pinched his lips together and swallowed. Blinking, he avoided looking at me, suddenly consumed with a chip in the finish on the door frame.
I skipped a greeting to say, “Not doing so good, huh?”
He flinched. “It was me the whole time, the guy?”
I chewed my lower lip and nodded.
“The longer I know, the more I understand. The more I get it. The way you ghosted me—that I was too oblivious to even see.” He ran a hand down his face. “God, I just kept texting you.”
I kept my mouth shut instead of pointing out that it would have been less passive aggressive for me to tell him to stop texting. It seemed he was processing through something, that it might be better for me to listen.
“Your sister knew—shit, even my brother knew—and that was why you pretended to be strangers,” he went on, his voice strangely hollow.
“Yeah. But that was to protect me and not you.”
His scowl deepened. I knew him well enough to know he meant it as a question.
“You’re always so reliable, and on time. I thought if they knew, they’d see a different side of the story and realize how much I had fucked it up.”
“How did you fuck up?”
“I didn’t really tell you what I wanted. I held back.” I fidgeted, brushing some of the sand off my feet and ankles. “I was more concerned with saving face than being honest with you.”
He shook his head. “Your instincts were right.”
“No, they weren’t. Even if I ended up completely humiliated, at least I wouldn’t have been lying to myself that I’d done the hard thing. I thought you had let me down easy when I brought up wanting something meaningful—”
“I didn’t think you could have meant me.”
“See, I wasn’t clear enough, because I was too afraid. My pride was more important than my feelings for you.”
“Or you knew that Fuckboy Lawyer wouldn’t add up.”
I shook my head. “I knew you might not want to. And...sorry about that name.”
