Page 140 of Run to Me

When we separate, I ask him to stick around for half an hour longer. There’s something important I need to do before I begin my workday.

53

JENSEN

The next morning, when I pull into my driveway after dropping off clothing donations, Maisy’s waiting on the steps of my front porch. With our eyes locked in a stare, I climb out of my Jeep and move toward her. Even with Javi and Trevor’s confidence backing me, my uneasy gut doesn’t have a clue how this reunion is about to go down. When I reach the bottom step, I tuck my hands in my pockets and lean against the railing.

“You stopped writing,” she says, trailing a finger along the edge of the notebook in her lap. One of my notebooks. “But you didn’t set me free like you said in the last letter.”

I blow out a breath and resist raking a hand through my hair. “I tried, but not loving you is impossible for me.”

Worry grips my chest when she doesn’t respond. I study her face for the smallest hint of what she’s thinking, but find nothing. When she sets the notebook aside and looks up at me again, her hazel eyes glisten in the late morning sun.

“How are you?” she asks.

“Better now.” Always better when you’re near me.

“That’s really good to hear.”

Our gazes remain fixed on each other as silence blankets us. Her relaxed features mimic the ease I feel in my soul whenever I look at her, sit beside her, breathe her in.

She’s not wearing makeup today, the sixty-three freckles across her nose and cheeks on display. I counted them while she slept once, an act I’m not ashamed of, but I’ll keep it to myself.

When the silence goes on for too long, I make a confession. “I didn’t stop writing, actually.”

Eyebrows drawing together in confusion, she asks, “There’s more?”

“One more.” I retrieve the folded paper from my back pocket and offer it to her. “I wrote this one yesterday.”

Chewing her lip, she considers taking the letter but doesn’t. “Can you read it to me?”

Shit. Reading aloud isn’t usually a challenge for me, but I’m nervous as hell. With a thundering pulse and shaky hands, I unfold the paper, clear my throat, and begin.

“Birdie. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to lose your trust and make you question whether I really love you. I do. My love for you is deep, unconditional, and endless. I could make excuses for my actions and blame them on my fears, but I won’t. The last time we spoke, you told me to ‘man up and own your shit,’ so I’m taking responsibility for all my wrongdoings.

“I’m sorry for tracking your phone and invading your privacy. And I’m sorry for showing up at places uninvited and taking away your choice to talk to me. I’m sorry for recreating your childhood bedroom, but I’m not sorry for holding on to your things when Vera tried to throw them out without telling you. I’m sorry for hiding the extent of my struggles from everyone, especially you. I’m sorry you have to get the worst of me to get the best. I’m working on making my worst a little better, and I hope you can forgive me enough to stand by me as a friend. If that’s as far as we go, I’ll accept your decision and be grateful to still have you in my life. Above all, our friendship means the world to me. It’s the one thing I never want to live without. So I’m asking you, birdie, will you forgive me and be my friend again? Yours forever and always, J.”

Maisy leans on her hands. I don’t know what to make of her casual demeanor, but at least she’s not running for the hills. “That was a long letter,” she says.

“I have a lot to apologize for.”

“You were eloquent in your delivery. Gold star.” The corners of her mouth twitch, and mine do the same.

Calmed by her humor, I fold the letter and return it to my back pocket. “So? Friends?”

She hums and says, “I don’t know. You may not want to be friends with me after you hear what I have to say.”

Pushing off the railing, I stand taller and search her face for meaning. She extends a hand, and I pull her to her feet. Her smooth skin touching mine again brings me so much relief, a shaky exhale flows from my lungs.

“Explain.”

“Everyone kept me updated on your progress. I’m so proud of you for getting help, Jensen. And for putting yourself first. I can see positive changes in you already. But something’s still missing.”

“What’s that?”

Her shrug is small, her smile shy. “Me. You’re the most important person in my life—the man I love. And I want to be by your side, walking this journey with you.”

A sob builds in my throat, so I rub a trembling hand across my mouth to hold it in. “You love me?”