“How did you know where I’d be this morning?”
The corner of his mouth tilted. “Well, you’ve posted Lake Merritt to your Instagram story more than a dozen times over the years and said it’s your favorite running spot. So, I got there early, and I prayed I wasn’t an idiot and you’d show up eventually.”
“How early?”
“Four in the morning.”
I smirked, running my thumb over the hollow base of his neck. “You really do love me.”
“I do,” he said, pulling me down to kiss him. When I was balanced over him again, his eyes searched mine. “When did you break up with Jacob?”
“The same day Azra showed up. That night.”
Tyler frowned, his hand splaying on my back. “I’m so sorry. That had to be so hard.”
“It was. He was a great guy, and I hated hurting him. We were such good friends… and the way it all went down when we talked on the phone, I thought we’d talk more once I got back here, that I’d get to see him again, maybe explain in person and try to establish some sort of friendship. But…” I shook my head on a dry swallow. “He didn’t want to see me, and I can’t blame him. You can’t really ever be just friends with someone you loved like that, I suppose.”
Tyler nodded in understanding, his fingers drawing shapes on my skin.
“What happened with Azra?”
He sighed. “Well, she hates me. Understandably so. When I told her, we were back home at Mom and Dad’s. She flew down the stairs and told them along with Morgan and Oliver what I’d done.” He paused. “They were about to drive to the airport to leave for their honeymoon.”
I grimaced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. Ouch,” Tyler agreed, and he swept my hair back over my shoulder. “Of course, they didn’t make their flight after that. They moved it to a later one, and after Azra stormed out, I sat all four of them down in the kitchen and explained.”
Shame rushed over me in a heat wave. “Oh, God,” I said, rolling onto my back and covering my face with my hands. “They must hate me.”
Tyler chuckled, balancing on his elbow to take my place, his eyes cast down on me now. “Do you really think that’s possible?”
I sighed, letting my hands drop to the side. “I’ve talked to Morgan a few times,” I mused. “She hasn’t said a word.”
“I asked them not to. I needed some time to figure out what I wanted to do, what I wanted to say… and mostly, how to get you to listen.”
“Wasn’t as hard as you thought, was it?”
“Did you notice I was wearing sneakers?” he asked. “I was prepared to run you down and pin you to the ground, if I had to.”
I bit my lip, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him long and hard. “Now I kind of wish I’d ran.”
Tyler chuckled.
When we pulled back, I kept my arms around him, frowning again. “So they don’t hate me?”
“Not even close. In a way, I think they all kind of knew… or at least, they weren’t surprised. Mom even seemed like she’d been hoping for it.”
I smirked.
“Seriously, though,” Tyler said, running the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “I think most of what was standing in our way wasn’t Jacob or Azra or Morgan or anyone else. It was us.”
I nodded, closing my eyes when he pressed his lips to mine again. “We’ve wasted so much time,” I whispered. “Put ourselves through so much pain.”
“I guess some lessons are learned the hard way.”
I nodded again, with my forehead pressed against his, my arms looped around his neck. “So, what now?”
Tyler grinned, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “I was thinking we could spend the rest of our lives making up for lost time.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, feigning nonchalance as my heart galloped in my chest.
“Yeah. What do you think about that?”
“I think the rest of our lives won’t even be enough.”
At that, Tyler kissed me, slow and soft and sure, and then he whispered, “Then let’s stay together forever after that, too.”
3 Years Later
Tyler
My wife couldn’t possibly be any hotter.
Jasmine was stretched out in the oversized hammock that hung above Tahiti’s crystal-clear, turquoise waters, platinum hair in a messy bun on her head, dark sunglasses shielding her face. She held a romance book in her hands — one she’d started reading on the plane ride here — and every now and then, she’d reach over for the orange and pink frozen drink on the deck, moving the tiny umbrella in it aside to take a sip.
She looked like a goddess, with the mountains stretching up behind her in the distance, palm trees waving in the breeze along the beach. She had her long legs crossed, polished toes tapping along to the steel drum in the distance, and her tan skin was ablaze against her skimpy white bikini.
If we didn’t have our own private hut on the water, I’d have had a big problem with that bikini, because the thong exposed her perfect little ass and the strapless top just barely covered her chest. As it was, she was on display for my eyes only, and I rather enjoyed the view.
I took my time making my way outside, letting my eyes wander over the plush canopy bed that was still a mess from us the night before and swiping my sunglasses off the bedside table. The teak wood was warm on my bare feet as I padded across the balcony, and I leapt into our private pool right next to the hammock, tucking my legs into my chest for the optimal splash.
When I emerged to find my wife glaring at me over the soggy pages of her book, I knew I’d succeeded.
My wife.
God, I’d never get tired of that.
We’d wasted so much time being apart, years of pretending what happened between us was nothing, a mistake we were both trying to forget. But the minute she showed back up in New England for my sister’s wedding, I knew we’d both been lying to ourselves.
I think I knew, even on that first night when I watched her eating dinner with my family for the first time in seven years, that she’d be mine. It didn’t matter that I was taken at the time, or that she was, too. Just being back in the same room had ignited a flame inside me that I’d tried to convince myself had long been extinguished.
The truth was that it never could be.
Those two weeks were hellish. I tried to stay away from her, tried to leave her alone, but no matter how I convinced myself that I was doing everything I could to give her space, I somehow found myself in the same room as her, no matter where she was. And I made up every excuse in the book to spend time with her — like being in the kitchen when I knew that’d be her first stop after her morning run, or forcing her to rest when she lost her voice and jumping at the opportunity to stay back with her, or taking her for a run on my favorite trail.
Every time I had a wake-up call in the form of her boyfriend reminding me that he existed, I’d find a renewed urgency to stay away from her.
But it never lasted long.
And once we finally admitted what we’d been feeling all along, once I’d had her? I knew I’d never be able to let her go again.