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“Is this big picture of yours a long-term strategy? Maybe something I should know more about?”
“Yes, it’s a long-term strategy, and I’ll tell you more when I can.”
“I have a date.”
His body goes rigid, and he rolls us so he is half on top of me. “Excuse me?”
“When we get back from the Orange Bowl in January, I have a date. Not sure why I’m telling you, but some of the things you are saying have me so confused. You sound possessive and determined to have me in your life but haven’t really given me much choice in the matter. Just a few days ago, we hadn’t seen or spoken in forever, and now, you’re talking about us long-term. It’s only fair to tell you, while you plan your life, I’m going to live mine.”
The intensity of his stare sends shivers down my body.
“Cancel the date.”
“No.”
“Cancel the fucking date, Devon.”
“No!”
“Don’t test me, babe. I’ll get creative.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why?
“I told you on that plane. You’re mine, or at least you’re going to be when I break through this wall of hurt I’m responsible for.”
“I’m not yours, Bryce, not anymore.”
“Yes, you are. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for breaking the bond we shared. Age difference or not, I should have told you how much you meant to me. I was waiting for you, Devon. I was waiting for you when I fucked up. It took too long to get my shit sorted, and I let you think you didn’t matter, but you did. When I pulled my shit together, it was you who was my guiding light.
“I knew I wasn’t going to marry her, but the baby was still mine. It was too selfish to ask you to be a part of that when you had such a future ahead of you. When you basically fled to Virginia, my heart hurt every day, but I didn’t come to you. I thought it was the right thing to let you move on. But I’m selfish now. That night on your deck, when you kissed me, I meant what I said. I prayed for the next three years that you would feel the same way when you turned eighteen, and the moment you laid eyes on me, I could tell you did. But I fucked up. It’ll forever be burned in my soul that I let you go. But now it’s time to fight for us.”
“I wouldn’t have cared.”
“Come again?”
“I wouldn’t have cared if you had a baby. If you would have told me you didn’t love her and wanted me, I would have done anything for you. I loved you that much. Getting over you was a grieving process. There are still some moments that I think about us and my chest hurts.”
“Jesus Christ, I’m an asshole.”
I stay silent, watching the emotions run through his mind.
“I’m going to fight for us, Devon. You’ll never doubt me again. But please, give me a chance, a real one. Cancel your date. Let me prove to you, and your family, how serious I am.”
My mind goes back to a time when I would have given anything in the world to hear him say something like this. Then I realize, it still means something. I owe it to myself to see where this could go. If he hurts me again, it’ll be different, because now I’m stronger.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, Bryce, okay. I’ll cancel.”
“Thank you.”
“What happens next?”
