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“Yeah, me neither. I just saw the cheetah-print pattern, and they reminded me of your neck pillow when we fly.” “Hmm. And the charms? They sell all these there too?” I run my fingers over the little charms. A cat, a camera, a hockey stick, the number 69, mountains, stars, and—
“Your onion goggles.” He gestures haphazardly at the swimming goggles charm, then at the yellow slice of pie. “Mimi’s famous key lime pie.” Oh. My. God. This man is the most adorable human to ever walk this earth, I’m sure of it. Jaxon clicks out a beat with his tongue, clapping his fist into his opposite hand. “Anyway, your old Crocs are falling apart, so.” “You hate my Crocs.” “They’re ugly.” He points at the pair in my hands. “Those ones, though? Those are dope as fuck. Can’t believe I just found ’em at the grocery store.”
“What are we doing? Where are we? Did you bring me a pair of your sweats? It’s cold, and they’re cozy. I’m hungry, but I’m also nervous and excited, so I don’t know what’s what in my belly. Hey, do you—” “Lennon?” “Yeah?” “Shut up.” “Okay.”
And there, above it all, dazzling ribbons of green, orange, pink, and purple dance through the deep blue sky, thousands upon thousands of stars singing as the Northern Lights illuminate my world.
“Maybe they’re dancing just for you tonight. For your birthday.” Okay, well. Shit. Fuck. “I . . . I . . .” Tears explode from my eyes, pouring down my face. I launch myself at Jaxon, legs around his waist, clinging to him. His hand moves over my back as he whispers, “Do you like it?” A simple yes would probably suffice. Instead I take his face in my hands and tell him, “You’re my line.” “What?” “The line that marks my before and after. I met you during the worst time in my life, and everything that’s come since you has been so much better. This, Jaxon?” I gesture at a sky I’ve been dreaming of
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I don’t understand how something so quiet can feel so fucking loud. It’s earsplitting, and I hate every second of it.
It’s in this moment I realize that, instead of remaining a temporary refuge for my heartache, somewhere along the way, Vancouver has become my home.
Nobody takes my crush home but me.
The problem with feeling that kind of happiness is that when it’s gone, the absence of it is staggering. The silence is earsplitting. And I can’t go another day without Lennon and everything I made her take with her when I pushed her away.
“Dance with me, honey.”
Fuck, I’ve been so afraid. To let go, let someone in, give them that kind of power over me. The kind of power where you walk knowingly to the edge of the cliff, stare down at all the possibilities waiting below, a chance at a future, a home, or another person who changes their mind. Both scary, and yet you look over the edge, and something tells you to do it, to give it a chance, so you do. You take a deep breath, let go, and fall.
But I don’t want to fall alone. I want her to fall with me.
“I don’t know if I liked being alone before you, but it was comfortable. I got used to the quiet. Felt like I belonged in it. But now, without you . . . I fucking hate the silence, Lennon.”
I look in her eyes, warm and smooth like whiskey on a summer patio, sunshine streaking through the crystal glass, lighting it with breathtaking shards of amber. And I blurt out, “Looking at you, knowing you exist in my world, that you could be mine one day and gone the next, is the most overwhelming thing I’ve ever felt.”
Logic rarely ever wins when shattered hearts are involved.
So, hey, is it too late to choose Option B, where Lennon offs half my team and we have to forfeit by default? Because I’m definitely not dancing to “Bye Bye Bye” by NSYNC in front of twenty thousand people. * * * I danced to “Bye Bye Bye” by NSYNC in front of twenty thousand people.
“I do.”
He love her so much
But I don’t want to be alone anymore.
“Well, that’s silly. Why do you think I’m always doing your hair and makeup? ’Cause I like you best.” Damn it, the pain isn’t leaving. “Why do you like me best?” “’Cause everyone else is always so happy and perfect, but sometimes you’re grumpy and sad, and it makes me feel like it’s okay to be grumpy and sad. I’m tired of pretending I’m always happy like everyone else.” She throws her arms in the air. “Now can we go get ice cream already? I’m starving!”
“You’re the only person whose opinion of yourself matters, Jaxon. Stop worrying about being enough for other people. Be enough for yourself.”
“Here it is, honey. I love you. I am so goddamn, mind-blowingly in love with you, and the thought of losing you is killing me. I don’t want you to go. This place only feels like a home when you’re here.” I whisper my final plea. “Please, honey. Please stay.”
Jesus, what a wild thing it is to be loved.
