“I’ve tried doing the friends thing with you, just like you wanted, but I don’t think I can keep it up.”
Oh God. My eyes burn at his words and my chin trembles. I can’t believe he’s doing this, after this last month when it seemed so easy for him. “I thought… I thought you were okay with it. You seemed to be.”
“I’m tired of acting and I can’t keep doing it. It’s not good for me, or you, or us.” He leans forward, caging me in against the car. I’m so stunned, I have nothing to say but when I open my mouth to speak, to plead, to do something, he continues. “I’ve loved you for much longer than our weekend away, Jillian. I waited until I knew you were over Roman, and I tried to wait until I saw my opportunity, but after the weekend we spent together, I can’t go back. It’s too hard.”
“You… what?”
“You know how I feel. Even if I didn’t say the words, I wasn’t that inept at showing you. If you think back, I think you’ll know that. But you either love me back, or you don’t, either way, it will take me a while to get back to what we used to have. And I need you to give that time to me.”
Tears stream down my cheeks. “I don’t want to lose you.”
He brushes away my tears and gives me a sad smile. “And I want to give you everything, but I can’t only give half of me. It’s not fair.” He leans forward, and I gasp as his mouth touches mine. He steals my breath, pressing his lips firmly to mine. He kisses me intensely, passionately, as if it may be his last kiss and then pulls back.
“Take the time you need to decide and be certain. Get home safe, honey.”
He steps away from me, shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants and turns and walks back into the bar before I can form a thought, much less a sentence.
I fall into my driver’s seat and cry, wiping my tears as fast as they fall.
He loves me.
And he still walked away from me.
29
Jillian
This is a sight I never thought I’d see in my life. The morning sun is rising in my back yard, leaves from the gardens and trees glistening with the morning dew.
And my mom, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeve T-shirt, gardening gloves on her hands, and my cheap sandals I leave at the back door on her feet, bent over one of the beds, weeding it.
I almost want to grab my camera and snap a picture, but I fear by the time I turn back to the windows, the scene in front of me will be gone. Better to take it in and remember it.
“She’s been looking forward to this.” My dad comes and stands next to me, coffee mug in hand, and takes a sip.
I glance at him, the mug, and bite down a smile. The sight of him, dressed in business slacks and a golf shirt, holding a hot pink mug that says GIRL BOSS in gold metallic, is quite a thing to behold.
“If she loves this stuff so much, why’d she stop?”
“Priorities shifted. Perhaps she’s realizing, like me, they didn’t exactly shift for the better. And perhaps, with everything going on with Norman, we’re learning there are amends to make, priorities to reshift before it’s too late.”
I’m speechless and take a drink of my coffee. My father barely flinched when he saw me in my cut-off sweat shorts and ripped and worn short-sleeve shirt. His eyes did widen as he read the words: SIZE MATTERS. NO ONE WANTS A SMALL GLASS OF WINE.
I have to give them credit. For the last month, since I saw them, they’ve made an effort. Our relationships are still strained, but improving, and surprisingly enough, I know from Nana, Mom has called her every week “just to chat.”
I never imagined going to Charleston would forever alter my relationship with my parents for the better.
And alter my relationship with Klaus for the worst.
His words from a week ago reverberate in my brain, like they’ve been doing incessantly.
Take the time you need.
He said it right before he walked away.
I wanted to jump out of my car, race after him and scream to the dark night sky how much I loved him. Fear held me back.
This time, not in fear of losing him, but fear he wouldn’t believe me in the heat of the moment. True to his word, he hasn’t texted all week. I have no idea where his head is at, but I know where mine is.
I have to fix things with him. And I have to do it quickly before I lose him forever.
Unfortunately, they’ve been on the road all week, and on his one night back in town, I had an overnight trip to Wisconsin, so I haven’t been able to see him or talk to him.
What I have to say has to be done face-to-face.
Which I plan on doing as soon as possible.
“Will we see Klaus after the game tonight?”
Right. The game. Where I have tickets and in another shocking move, my dad and mom want to go see him.
“I’m not sure.”
“I’m surprised we haven’t seen him this weekend.”
“Things aren’t… well, I messed them up,” I admit and feel that familiar sting in my eyes. The heaviness to my shoulders.
I’ve messed everything up by being afraid. By thinking that if I love Klaus and admit it, it will ruin us. Like with Roman. Or wanting my parents’ love for so long and not getting it. And yet it’s Klaus.
I’ve always been able to trust him and I should have trusted him before, in my kitchen. In Charleston when he said he wanted to live it. I should have known him enough to know everything he showed me was exactly what I’ve been hoping for so long to see.
“Seems to me with how much he cares about you, you couldn’t have messed up too big.”
“I didn’t trust him when I should have.” I shrug like that answers everything.
“Do you know what I loved about your mom when we met?”
“No.” A grin breaks on my face, that sting in my eyes different this time. Sweeter. My parents never talk about love, or how they met. Things, they are a-changing. “What was it?”
I face him, and yet his gaze is on my mom, smiling softly at her as he watches her work in a way I don’t know if I ever saw before that night in the library.
Or I never noticed.
“Her coldness toward me.”
“What?”
He turned his grin on me then. “When we met, I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Love at first sight? Lightning striking? Thunder rolling? I felt all of that the first time I saw your mom walk across the quad at school and when I tried to talk to her, she basically told me to shove off.”
“No.” I drawl it out, overdramatic.
My dad chuckles and his gaze softens. Like he’s remembering that very moment and it’s too special to mention. “She was hard. I think now you might know why a little bit but back then, well, she was an ice queen toward everyone. I think she was trying so hard to be so different from how she grew up, from Iris, that she didn’t give anyone the time of day.”
Ah. It makes sense now. “And as a guy who grew up with everything, who probably had girls falling all over you for your money and your status in Charleston, that probably ticked you off.”
He shrugs, as if that’s completely how it was. “She made me work for her. Earn her. It took months of chasing after her, proving myself to her that she wasn’t some game. And for that, her fire and her determination, well, it all made me love her more.”