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But how can I say yes? How can I trust him with my heart again?
I grab my phone and type.
To John:
I’ve never loved anyone as I loved you
And I’ve never loved anyone after you
And I may never love you the same way again
But… mostly, I don’t know
How can you be so sure about us?
John takes the phone, reads the message, and I swear his gaze on me when he raises his head is burning a hole into the glass. He looks away only to fumble with his phone for a second and then bring it back to his ear. He’s calling me.
“Hey,” I pick up.
“Hey,” he says. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”
“I know,” I whisper. “But I kind of am. You keep asking, and I don’t want to keep saying no, but I also don’t know how to say yes.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” He tilts his head to the side, making a cute face. “I meant it as self-deprecating humor and then I turned it too serious.”
“No,” I blurt. “No, I get it. I do, it makes sense. But where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know,” he says, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. “But to answer your earlier question—”
“What question?”
“How can I be so sure about us?”
“Oh.”
My heart races in my chest as I wait for the answer.
“I’m sure because I’ve been living in this limbo for the past sixteen years and I’ve never felt more alive than since you crashed back into my life. I’m sure because I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have a future with. I’m sure because you’re the first person I think about as I open my eyes, which is terrible.”
“Why?”
“Because I should think of my daughter, but you always beat her by a fraction of a second.”
“Only because I’m shiny and new. What about ten, thirty, fifty years from now?”
“Then you’ll be old and crusty and still be the person I want to wake up next to every day.” The words wash over me and warm me all over, and it’s as if, for a moment, the world stops moving and I’m caught in this feeling. I barely hear his next words. “I guess that’s a long-winded way of saying, I love you and I’ll do anything to spend the rest of my life with you. Because no matter what, no matter how many times you say no, I’ll keep asking.”
I bite my lip to keep my tears in check as I stare at him through the window. Gosh, he looks so handsome and intense. I want to fly over there and get lost in his arms. In his kisses. Let’s be honest, I want to do a lot more than just kiss him. I have since Halloween, heck, since prom night.
“You’re Dr. Smoldering again tonight,” I whisper into the phone.
“Then why do you sound so upset about it?”
“John.” I touch my fingers to the cold glass of the window. “We shouldn’t kiss anymore.”
“Ah, okay.” His crestfallen expression is heartbreaking even at a distance. “Why not, if I may ask?”
“The physical aspect confuses things even more.”
