Page 66 of The Soulmate Theory

I know that, and yet, I can’t seem to get the words to come every time I think I’ve gained the courage to do it. Carter has accepted every part of me. Even the parts I don’t like, even the things that drive him nuts. He accepts them, I think he may even love them. To imagine the disappointment in his face, to imagine him losing his trust in me, his belief in who I am; I don’t think I could bear it. He’s the only person I’ve felt may love me truly, deeply, unconditionally. My past may be a condition he can’t overcome. I’m not sure how I’d overcome not only losing him, but knowing without a doubt that I’d done something that even unconditional love can’t conquer.

He’d been wrong all those times when he accused me of not believing in love. I did. I always, always had believed in love. What I wasn’t sure I could believe in was whether or not love was something that was in the cards for me. If it was something I deserved anymore. Because for a time, my morals changed. I was selfish, greedy, and reckless. I created a path of destruction and ran away from it when it blew up in my face. I wasn’t worthy of someone like him. I wasn’t deserving of the love he could give me. To know that while I had been turning into the worst version of myself, he had been waiting for me– that had almost broken me.

So I now stood at a crossroads of having him and hating myself. Or giving myself over to him, every ugly part of who I am, and facing the chance that he may not accept it.

A ray of morning sun shone through the crack in the blinds, illuminating just over his lips, as sparkles of light floated down to accent his skin. I traced the outline of his tattoo around his bicep, moving my fingers up along his shoulder. Thoughts emptied from my mind entirely as I found contentment in this moment. Watching him sleep, running my fingers along his skin, savoring the warmth his body provided. The quiet of the early morning, the belief that the rest of the world slept along with him.

He was the tether that tied me back to earth.

He was still heavy with sleep when my phone chimed. I started at the sound because I was sure I had silenced it last night before I fell asleep. My phone chimed again and Carter’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked at me as a lazy smile spread across his face. “Good morning,” he said.

I ran my fingers through the curls that nested on top of his head. “Sorry my phone woke you. I thought I silenced it last night.”

He sat up out of bed quickly, eyes lingering on me only for a moment before he lunged for my phone. He scrambled toward the other end of his bed and held it against his chest. “Don’t get mad at me.”

“What?” I asked. I’d been awake longer than he had, but it had been that peaceful, lazy, early morning consciousness. His sudden movements made me painfully confused.

“I turned on notifications for your email after you fell asleep last night so you’d be notified when you received the decision from UCLA.”

“Carter,” I growled.

He held his hand up. “I know, I know. You can be as mad at me as you want to later. I’ve already thought through the ways I’ll make it up to you.” He bit down on his lip. I shivered. “But let's rip the Band-Aid off, Pep. Just check your email, and then you’ll know for sure. I am not going to watch you anxiously wither away all day long lost inside your own head. Anxious to the point you can’t eat. Can’t hardly speak.” He pulled my phone away from his chest and glanced down at the screen before looking up at me. “I can’t stand it. So let’s just find out, and then we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

I huffed. “Is the email even from UCLA?”

He nodded.

My gut twisted into knots. I nodded back.

He entered the passcode on my phone (my birthday, which he had correctly guessed on the first try) and opened the email. I watched in panic as his eyes dragged across the screen, reading the school’s response line by line. His eyebrows rose up and his eyes widened. His mouth gaped slightly. I couldn’t tell if the expression was shock, disappointment, dismay, or excitement. It would have been any of them– could have been all of them. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but I swore it felt like years as I waited for him to look at me. To speak.

Instead, he smiled. A smile so wide, so bright, it felt like I was being licked by a ray of sunlight. It was more than excitement, surprise, or shock. “Miss Penelope Mason,” he drew out my name knowing it’d build my suspense, “welcome to the Graduate of Archaeology Program at the University of California Los Angeles.”

The sob was already bubbling up my throat before he’d finished speaking. It erupted from my mouth as his words ceased. I could feel my eyes swelling as the emotion settled around me. Tears overflowed as the realization set in. All I could do was drop my face into my hands as I heaved and cried. I’d been so scared for so long. Afraid I’d thrown my entire life away over one bad judgment call. I’d been stuck in this purgatory for over a year. A door only appeared when Carter entered my life, and now that door had finally opened.

UCLA had been a top choice school for me since the beginning. I wanted to stay in Oxford if I could, but when I had thought about moving home in my first few years of college, UCLA was the school I saw myself attending. It wasn’t just the fact that it was a top-rated school. Or that their program was renowned. Or the career opportunities that would come with connections there. It was the environment too.

After a lifetime of rain, I wanted sunshine.

When everything came crashing down and I had to leave Oxford, I was set on UCLA. Until I’d been rejected from nearly every other program I’d applied to. When I had been rejected from programs less extensive, less demanding, less prestigious. I’d all but given up hope on this dream.

It didn’t feel real.

The bed dipped and shuffled as I was being pulled by two strong arms into a hard body. I pressed my cheek against his chest. “It’s real, Pep,” he said. I realized I must’ve said it out loud. “It’s real. You did it. You did it.”

He rocked me for a long while as I let out all of the feelings I’d held back for so long. I let out everything that had dragged me down. That had drained me. All the fear and guilt, all the pain. Until the only feelings left were hope and love.

He wrapped both arms around my hips and sat up, whirling me back so that I fell against the bed. He pressed his lips to mine once more before he pushed off the bed and stood up. I braced myself on my elbows and looked at him. He smiled as he threw a t-shirt at me. “No sex until you go tell your parents the good news.”

I pouted.

He walked into the bathroom. I slipped on my bra and threw the t-shirt over my head. I began sorting through the pile of my clothes that had accumulated on his bedroom floor throughout the week, looking for a pair of sweats that would resemble something I may have worn at Macie’s. I walked up to his door and slipped on my shoes while simultaneously pulling my hair into a bun when he stepped out of the bathroom.

I turned to face him and stepped forward to press against his chest. I pressed up on my toes to level my mouth with his nose and planted a kiss there. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” I returned as I stepped out his door and into the chilled April air.

I wasn’t worried about running into any of our family members at this time of morning. Tom was likely already at work, and my father had Wednesdays off. Our sisters were probably still in bed since school had a late start. I still snuck across the Edwards’ yard on the far side of the shrubs. Another routine I found myself falling into.

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