Page 22 of More Than My Hometown

7

MAISEY

Ewan…

My breath catches, my heart right there in my throat, making it impossible to swallow. I try to inhale, my entire chest constricting, reminding me of all the oxygen he stole straight out of the atmosphere.

He looks better than anyone has any business looking in a gray T-shirt turned almost charcoal thanks to the rain.

There’s a million things I want to say. That I want to ask. Starting with how he knew where to find me. But the words don’t come. I can’t make them go. I can only squeak out two little syllables.

“Ewan.”

He takes half a step toward me, closing the already small distance between us, stealing what’s left of my ability to think.

“I lied.”

W-wh-what?!

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. Always.”

Always…always. My mind reels, that simple, six-letter word sending my world into a tailspin. Never mind the three not so little words that were paired with it.

Always.

Who does he think he is, dropping that word like that?

“You, Maisey…you were my life. Not this town. You,” he says, his voice warbling slightly. “I not only would have sworn it in blood, but I would have married you right then and there had Judge Robinson and our parents let us get away with such a thing at thirteen.”

I reel back, the blow of his words hitting me like a wrecking ball. They’re everything I’ve wanted to hear for so long—the words I’ve secretly fantasized about—but they don’t seem real. I bite down on the inside of my lip, testing to make sure I’m not dreaming. Sure enough, I feel the sharpness of my teeth, letting me know that I’m not in some junk food-induced coma on the couch.

This is real.

“The only thing I ever wanted was for you to see me as more than a best friend. To cross that line. There were so many times I almost told you, and I chickened out every time, so afraid that you didn’t see me that way. That you viewed us as a younger version of Hux and Dolly—the perfect platonic pair.”

Ewan continues, the words rushing from him like water over Niagara Falls. As if him not getting it all out in a single breath might kill him.

“I had this whole plan in my head, that we were going to come back here after graduation, and I was going to convince Old Man Jennings to sell the shop so that I could make it part of Hayes, and take that plan you’d drawn up on that napkin when we were in Florida and put it into action. That once we were back here, in Hickory Hills, and I was living up to my family name, you could see me as someone who was worthy of you.”

Worthy of him? My heart slams against my chest, the ability to breathe becoming harder and harder the more he continues. He really thought that? He thought he didn’t deserve me? No, this isn’t right.

I look up at him, not sure what I’m going to find, but still shocked by what I see.

Tears.

Ewan’s blue eyes are glassy and there is no mistaking the tremble in his bottom lip. Raindrops run down his face, but do little to disguise the pain once the dam breaks. Turns out, tears and raindrops look nothing alike.

“I know you used to talk about seeing the world all the time, but I never thought you’d actually leave. And that day that you asked me to go with you, I should have said yes. I know that. And not a day has gone by that I don’t regret my answer. That I don’t regret missing out on the adventures that we could have had. Because I was too deep in thinking that I had to stay here, be a Hayes, instead of…” He trails off, swallowing hard. Pressing his eyes shut, he inhales hard and deep, like he’s pushing down every emotion he’s ever felt. I want to reach out, to grab him and tell him it’ll be okay, but I’m paralyzed in place. “All I know is I missed ten years of being your best friend. Ten years of loving you from far away instead of up close. And I don’t want to miss the next ten. Backup plan or not, I want a future with you, Maisey.”

You do?

I stand here, stunned, my body as frozen as a block of marble. I should react—say something, anything—but can’t. My vocal cords are betraying me. It’s like a wad of cotton has been shoved far down my throat, preventing anything else from moving past it.

“Say something, Maisey,” Ewan says, his voice cracking. “Even if it’s just telling me to get the hell off your step.”

I try. I really do. But I can’t; I’m too shocked.

Ewan Hayes loves me.