Page 90 of Run to Me

When he talks like this, I’m dizzy with warring emotions. Giddy at the possibility that he has such deep feelings for me, but wary that he’s paying me lip service. Perhaps my love language is words of affirmation, but I’ve been deprived of them for too long. I need him to fill my head with a lifetime’s worth of sweet sentiments before I can believe in myself enough to believe him.

“What if I hadn’t come back?” I ask. “Would you have grown old alone?”

“You were always gonna come back to me. Your head may have lost faith in me, but your heart never did. It would’ve eventually found its way.”

Ironically, when Jensen shares his thoughts without thinking too hard, the words flow effortlessly. He’s poetic almost, a compliment he’d reject if I ever told him.

He may have a weakness for constructing words at times, but he holds nothing back when sharing his emotions with me. Opposites must attract because my greatest weakness—my greatest flaw—is the inability to express what I’m feeling. Only small reactions or expressions filter to the surface when I allow them.

“That’s a pretty bold claim. I could’ve met someone, got married, and had a couple of kids by now.”

“And when you divorced that man because your heart was lying to itself, I would’ve raised your kids as my own. There’s no scenario where we don’t end up together, birdie. Not in this lifetime, and not in the thousands that follow.”

“But…” I whisper, sensing he has more to say on the matter.

He tucks some curls behind my ear. “But…this will be easier on both of us if you meet me halfway. I’ll accept baby steps as long as each step you take brings you closer to me.”

I sigh, resigned to the fact I’m setting myself up for failure in our relationship. This touching base concept is foreign to me, but I’ll make a conscious effort to check in with him, which doesn’t seem like too difficult a task.

“I promise to try. This doesn’t come natural to me, Jensen, so please be patient.”

“Fair enough. Now tell me something new. Any jobs coming up?”

With a sleepy grin on my lips, I tell him about the upcoming Las Vegas project. I prattle on about what it’s like working on a production set and the satisfaction I feel whenever I transform a face into art. How I take pride in my work—in knowing I’m adding beauty to the world. How evidence of my work will exist forever in digital glory.

Jensen hangs on my every word, a pleased grin on his lips and pride shining in his eyes. Fingertips, calloused from years of lifting weights, explore my shoulder, neck, collarbone, jaw. He never stops touching me, unaware he’s doing so as he listens.

“I’m happy with the way things are going. Any of these jobs could lead to the big break I’m waiting for.”

“And I’m happy for you. I want all your dreams to come true.” God, I don’t deserve him.

“Thanks. What about you? Have you decided about running for mayor?”

He rolls onto his back and stuffs a hand in his hair. “I filed the paperwork.”

“Already? I thought you had more time to decide.”

“Figured I should get it over with.”

I sit up to get a better look at his face. Tightened features give away his internal struggle with the decision, one he clearly didn’t want to make. I straddle his waist and fold my hands across his chest, resting my chin on them.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t I? Everyone expects me to. It’s all anyone can talk about when they see me.”

“They’re excited because they respect you, but you don’t owe them anything. Do what’s best for you in the end.”

He stares at the slice of moonlight on the ceiling. “I’ll disappoint them if I back out.”

“What about you? What if the pressure gets to be too much and you…you know.”

“Lose my head?”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, ashamed for bringing up his history of crumbling under pressure.

“Don’t be sorry for thinking it. There’s a chance I’ll have a breakdown, but I’ve learned how to control myself before things get too far out of hand.”

I doubt he’s managing his stress the right way if he’s never sought professional help. Of course, I haven’t been around for a long time, and he could have things under control.