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The magic—it’s sparking around me all over again. Somehow.
I am a total mess.
Even little surprises can throw me off. So, this doozy—seeing Jack on this walkway—is a real brain-scrambler.
I had things planned out, including what I wanted to say. I’m trying to remember it all now so I can get it right.
I wanted to tell him how sorry I am for acting the way I did.
Have I done that yet?
I don’t even know.
“I took that promotion, but I let the best thing in my life fall away,” I say. “I had it all wrong. My priorities… I let unimportant stuff get in the way.”
“I’m glad you got that gig. You earned it, and they’re lucky. And… you mean that? About us being the best thing?”
I nod.
I have to tell him how I feel. Even now, I’m trying to figure out the words.
But before I can gather my thoughts, he speaks. “So, you really think me and you being together was a good thing?” His eyes, stormy with concern, search mine.
He’s not being casual about this.
That impresses me.
This doesn’t feel like something that should be handled casually.
It feels sacred.
I nod. “Yeah… I really do. I guess it scared me, in a way, how good it was. It still scares me. I’m thirty, and I’ve thought I was in love before a couple of times, and it didn’t go well. But it’s never felt like this before. And that scares me because if it feels so much bigger this time…”
“The ending could hurt more,” he says.
“Yeah. The thing is, I don’t want to hide from that. I’ve done enough hiding… I think it’s time to try something new.”
“We should try again,” he says, his voice deep and sincere.
I search his eyes. “Should we?”
The sound of hesitation makes my heart beat faster. He could say no or back down again.
When he nods, I start to soar.
“I’m sort of freaked out about it, too,” he says. “Long distance is a real challenge. But I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I can’t keep missing you. My bike tires are worn to nothing, and I’ve been working so much that the name ‘Billy’ is on my top outgoing calls. So lame.”
“Hm?”
He lost me when he started talking about bike tires.
“Not important,” he murmurs. I can tell by the warmth in his voice that he’s as happy as I am. “Want to give it another shot?”
“More than anything.”
He steps in closer to me, and the plastic and paper packaging around the flower stems crinkles as it gets compressed between us.
I’m not even worried about the flowers.
