Page 102 of My Unfinished Heart

We could have just been a flash in the pan. His angst, my loneliness. A perfect storm.

With my head still downturned, I glance up at him. He meets my eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

“I’m wondering what you’re thinking about,” he says.

“Just you.”

He inhales and seems to gulp the air. Then he says, “I missed you every single day.”

The words break me. I’m crushed. “I’m sorry.”

He sits up in the chair and turns toward me. His hand rests on the table near my glass. “Archer, to be completely honest for once, I actually don’t know if you’re ready for the way I feel about you. It’s not normal. I don’t want to scare you away again.”

“You never scared me. I can handle it,” I say, daring to hope.

“Sometimes I can’t even handle it, even after all this time.”

“I’ll figure it out,” I whisper with growing urgency.

He leans closer. “Are you sure you want this? You barely know me. You could have any one you want.”

“You’re the only one,” I insist. “The only one I want to know.”

“Please be sure, because I have so many feelings,” he says, gesturing with an open hand to his chest.

“Like…what kind of feelings?”

“Like I wanna marry you and die the exact same time you do.”

I stare at him, startled silent, relief spilling through me like someone turned on a faucet of it.

“I told you,” he says.

“So, you’re not over it?” I ask.

“I’m not even…” He’s shaking his head. His leg touches mine. “No.”

And here is my grand gesture. The great sharing of my heart. It’s a truth I realize when the ache in my chest finally begins to subside. “You were wrong that day after class.”

“About what?”

“I have been waiting for you. For four years.”

His eyes close, and he smiles for a moment to himself. He breathes like he’s as relieved as I am. “Thank you for saying that. It’s kind of a dream come true.”

“I should have said it months ago,” I say quietly.

“It’s okay. It was so good, it might have actually been worth the wait.”

“I don’t know about that.”

He smiles at me. A real smile—the kind that lights his eyes and sets them on fire.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say.

“Thanks.”