We lie next to each other in silence like we used to so many times, all those years ago. This takes me back, but so much has happened since then, none of which was in our grand plan. Nothing happened like we planned.
“He was jealous of you, you know.”
Dax shifts but remains quiet.
“Mitch constantly asked me about you and whether we were really just friends.” Even though he might not be able to see me, I use quotation marks around friends. Mitch always used them, and his neck reddened every time he asked. He wasn’t usually angry or accusatory, but he was more hesitant than anything. Like he was more afraid of the answer than asking the question. “I always answered him automatically that there was nothing going on with us. But I started to sound robotic, even to my own ears.”
Dax shifts on his side, and I do the same so that we face each other. I’m so close, and he’s at just the right angle for the lone streetlight to shed a dim glow over him. He’s intrigued but still hurt.
“After we got married, the inquisitions stopped, for the most part, like he finally believed me. But there were a few times afterward when he couldn’t help himself.” I toy with the grass between us as I get lost in the memories of the past. “Do you remember Jacob’s third birthday? You came to town for it, and when you went out for more beer, Mitch cornered me, asking me again if there was anything between us. Instead of automatically answering him like I normally did, I asked him what had gotten into him. Why he’d asked. He said he tried setting you up with his cousin that night, but all you did was joke around with me all night. He said it didn’t matter what I answered, anyway, because he saw it. He knew the truth.” My voice cracks, admitting this out loud for the first time.
Mitch’s shadowed expression. His defeat.
His sadness.
We both knew the truth.
“Fuck,” Dax mutters. “It’s why you didn’t talk to me for months afterward.”
“It stung, thinking about you being set up. Thinking if it wasn’t Mitch’s cousin, it’d be someone else.” I nod, turning away from him, ashamed at my next words. “I was married with a toddler. I couldn’t have feelings for my best friend.” I audibly gulp, trying my best to get this out. “I tamped down my thoughts and feelings and focused on my family. Mitch eventually let it go, and you and I fell into our normal routine of Skype dates again, although I was usually discreet. After a while, it finally felt normal again—being your friend.”
He nods, understanding and compassion falling over him as he continues listening.
“We fell into another routine after our first kiss, you know? After the accident. After I moved. We always went back to friends, until the night you came to fix my shower. And now, after the other night, I know we’ll fall into that same routine… but I don’t want to.”
We both sit up, and I place his hand over my chest.
Over my wildly beating heart.
“You see, while you pretended not to have feelings for me, I had to do the same for you, Dax. I had to put aside my feelings for you over the years. Had to pretend it didn’t crush me when you met Dani. When things got serious with you two. Every time you called and talked about her, I pretended because it was too late for us.”
“Clara…” His pained voice echoes around me.
“But I don’t want to pretend anymore. I can’t. I want our new normal to be one where you kiss me. Make love to me. Love me.” I watch his throat bob as he swallows, then bites out a curse under his breath. “I want our new normal to be us together because… part of me has always belonged to you. I loved my husband—I won’t deny or apologize for that—but even so, you’ve always held part of my heart. I didn’t think I would ever move on after Mitch, but then I saw you again. Like my heart had finally healed enough to beat for someone else. For you. It made me finally admit that my heart never really let you go to begin with.” I squeeze his hand over my chest, my heart thundering like it’s trying to jump out into his palm. “I want this to be our new normal because you feel right. If you’ll have me.”
The last few words are barely out of my mouth before his resolve snaps, and he crushes his lips to mine. Both of his hands are in my hair, holding me close.
He pushes me onto my back, and his body covers mine.
His kiss is passionate. Eager.
Tearful.
And the longer we kiss, the more I realize just how ready I am for this. For us. My heart mended long ago.
Because of every moment I spend with Dax Pearson.
Thirty-One
Dax
I could kiss her lips for hours.
They’re soft and welcoming. Warm and peaceful.
I didn’t know if I’d get to kiss her again, but now that I have, I never want to stop.
We lie on the field, stealing kisses between sentences, her leg wrapped around mine at the ankle, her arm draped across my waist.
Together, we turn our focus to the stars. We’re like specks of sand in the grand universe, but here, in the middle of our old high school football field, we’re magic.
Because we’re together after years of living separate lives.
“I was going to bring you here at the end of our first date but decided not to,” I confess.
“Why didn’t you?”
I run my fingertips over her arms, enjoying the feel of her body against mine. “It’s what we used to do as teenagers.”
Her head shifts, and the grass rustles beneath her. I feel her watching me as my exterior crumbles. I face her too, searching her curious eyes for courage to be vulnerable and straightforward with her.
I never want to leave anything out when it comes to her.
“I’ll always be your friend.” I cup her cheek, and her lips part. “Bringing you here, where we always used to come when we wanted to escape our teenage troubles—it would’ve reminded you that all we were for years was friends.”
Her eyes glisten as she continues listening.
“But I want to be more, and I need you to promise me that you do too. That you’re in this with both feet. You and me.” I rest my forehead against hers, holding my breath for her response.
She kisses me softly. “I promise you, I’m in this. One hundred percent.”
She nods against me, then forces my chin up with her thumb and forefinger so I meet her gaze.
Even in the dark, it’s hungry, serious, and very sure.
Many memories of Clara are burned in my brain and seared on my heart. Her humming while she cooks. How she laughs at every episode of Friends, even though she knows exactly what’s going to happen.
Clara as my friend.
Her as a mother.
Her bare in bed with me.
She stares up at me, in my arms under the sky, reminding me of all the good in this world when my job hardly reassures me of it—it’s a memory I’ll look back on in fifty years and smile.
Because I’ve been in love with Clara Morgan for years, but right now, even without the words, I know for the first time that she loves me too.
I help her up, then kiss the back of her hand. I kiss her on the lips, a deep and meaningful kiss that no words could express my feelings any better.
I follow her to my house, my body buzzing with hope and excitement.