"I thought about my future, about what I looked forward to. I asked myself if I wanted to wake up next to him every day. I did."
"That's it?"
"What's more loving than staying in someone's life?"
"How long have you been married?"
"Thirty years."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
The plane stops at the gate. The fasten seatbelts sign turns off. The intercom whirs with something about how we can now stand.
The woman smiles. "I hope things work out with her."
"Me too."
Chapter Fifty-One
Leighton
It's afternoon when I wake. Even with the breeze blowing between my windows, my apartment is hot.
But the heat isn't irritating. The familiarity of it is comforting. This place is home. Its quirks and flaws are home too.
A glass of ice water cools me down. As does shedding my pajamas.
It's way too hot for a run, but I need to clear my mind too badly to care.
I change into my workout gear, lace up my sneakers, fill my reusable water with a mix of ice and water.
Then I slide my keys into the hidden pocket in my shorts, step outside, and take off.
The sun beats down on my chest and shoulders, but it feels good. Warming, not oppressive.
A breeze blows over my arms.
The air cools as I pass Eleventh.
But the view of the ocean crashing into the sand doesn't offer the clarity it usually does. It sends my thoughts back to Maui. To climbing into Ryan's lap and kissing him and knowing I loved him more than anything.
Maybe even enough to wait for him.
I try to push my thoughts away as I hit Ocean, turn, run back toward my apartment.
Slowly, the dust in my brain settles.
Things come into focus.
But there's no time to make sense of them.
Ryan is sitting on my stoop. Staring at me like I'm an angel sent from heaven.
Like I'm the only thing he's ever wanted.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Leighton
My pulse pounds in my ear.
My heartbeat is the only thing I can hear. It's loud, fast, steady.
He's here.
He's not at the wedding.
He's not in Hawaii.
He's here.
"Hey." He rises to his feet.
"Hey." The words stumble on my tongue. My stomach flutters. My limbs get light.
Ryan is here.
He's really here.
He offers his hand. "You want to talk inside?"
"It's hotter inside."
"That's okay."
I pop the cap of my reusable bottle. Suck down my last drop of water. It's still cold, but it does nothing to cool me down.
I'm buzzing from his proximity.
My body shares none of my caution. It screams for Ryan. For his lips, his touch, his cock.
For every single thing he can give me.
No, that's my head.
Or maybe my heart.
All of me wants all of him.
My fingertips skim his palm. "Okay. Inside." If this is good, and we're inside, then my body can get what it wants. I can get what I want.
If it's bad, and we're inside, then I can fall apart without prying eyes.
But if it's bad…
It doesn't matter where I am.
I punch the code into the gate.
The door buzzes. I turn the knob, hold it open for Ryan.
He nods as politely as he always does.
I follow him up the steps, down the hall, to my apartment door.
The key is lodged into that tiny pocket. I fish it out, slide it into my lock, turn it. This is familiar. Like the night I explained everything.
Like a million nights I let Ryan in.
Then let Ryan in.
I want that so badly.
I want him so badly.
Please be here to kiss and make up.
Please say you love me too.
Because I really don't know what I'll do if you don't.
I push the door open and step inside. "Come in."
He does. His sandals squeak against the tile floor. He slides them off, leaves them in a neat row by the door.
I step out of my sneakers and socks. Leave them in a messy pile.
He presses the door shut. Clicks the lock. Turns to face me. "Your flight okay?"
I nod.
"Iris picked you up?"
"Yeah. Thanks… I think."
"You eat something?"
"Were you behind the chocolate chip pancakes?"
He shakes his head. "That was all her."
"Oh. She's a good friend."
"Yeah."
"I'm lucky."
His blue eyes bore into mine.
I stare back at him. Words crawl into my throat and dissolve on my tongue. None are quite right.
But I can't keep up this staring contest forever.
I have to say something.
I want to say something.
"I, uh, I kind of freaked out." My heels plant on the hardwood as I take a step backward. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"I didn't need to give you an ultimatum. I could have waited. But I was scared. And hurt. And I didn't know what else to do but run."
He nods. "I'm glad you did."
"What?" My brow furrows. He's glad. I… He… That doesn't make any sense.
He closes the distance between us in three steps.
His hand skims my hip. His palm goes flat on my lower back. He pulls my body into his.
I look up at him.
I stare into those beautiful baby blues. "What is this?"
"Give me a minute to put this together."
"Okay." My fingers curl into his soft cotton shirt. I press the fabric into his shoulders. They're hard. Warm. Familiar.
But are they mine?
I need them to be mine.
He brushes a stray hair behind my ear. "I felt it."
"Felt what?"
"All night, it got worse, this gaping hole in my gut. The only thing that filled it was thinking about you."
I stare back at him.
"I think I needed that. I needed to realize I might lose you. That I would lose you if I didn't figure it out."
"No, I, we… I was too harsh. Too impatient."
"It killed me watching you walk away."
"It killed me too."
"But I needed it." His voice is steady. Sure. "I thought about my future. And I see you, Leigh. I see myself waking up next to you. Arguing about whether we should have medium roast or French roast. I see you teasing me about wearing nothing but black. And I see you standing in our bathroom, perfecting your makeup, rolling your eyes when I insist you look great without it. I see us getting our own place. Getting married. Having a family."
"Ryan…"
"I love you, Leighton."
My heart thuds against my chest.
He rests his palm on my cheek. Rubs my temple with his thumb. "I love you so fucking much, it hurts."
"I love you too."
"I'm sorry I didn't see it. The word felt like a weapon or a wound. And you were the opposite of that, baby. You are. You're an angel. You're my salvation. You're everything."