However, until three weeks ago, I didn’t realize that the best life I could give her was a life without me in it. She needed the opposite of what I could offer her, and I know that now. She knows that now. And we accept it.
So when you ask if I would choose her over you, you’re presenting a situation that I can’t give you a straight answer to. Because yes, at this point, I probably would walk away from you if she asked me to. The majority of my loyalty still lies with her. But if you’re asking who I need more? Who I want to be with more? Who my heart craves more? My heart decided that for me a long time ago, Sydney.
When I’ve read the last word, I pull the notebook against my chest and cry. He slides me off of him until I’m on my back, and he hovers over me, guiding my eyes up to meet his.
“It’s you,” he says aloud. “My heart . . . wants you.”
A sob breaks free from my chest when I hear his words. I immediately grab his shoulders and lift myself up, pressing my lips to the area directly over his heart. I kiss him over and over, silently thanking him for giving me reassurance that I haven’t been in this alone.
When I lower my head back to the pillow, he lies beside me, then pulls me against him. He touches my cheek with his hand and slowly leans in to kiss me. His mouth caresses mine so carefully it feels as if he’s holding my heart in his hand and is afraid he might drop it.
As much as I’m convinced he would do everything he could to protect my heart, I’m still too scared to hand it over. I don’t want to give it to him until I know it’s the only heart he’s holding.
? ? ?
I don’t open my eyes, because I don’t want him to know I hear him leaving. I felt him kiss me. I felt him slide his arm out from beneath me. I heard him pull his shirt over his head. I heard him search for a pen. I heard him write me a letter, and I heard him place it on the pillow beside me.
I feel his hand as it presses into the mattress beside my head. His lips meet my forehead before he pulls away and walks out my bedroom door. When I hear the front door shut, I roll onto my side and pull the covers over my head to block out the sunlight. If I didn’t have to work today, I’d stay right here in this position and cry myself dry.
I brush my hand across the mattress in search of his letter. When I find it, I pull it under the covers with me and read it.
Sydney,
A few months ago, we thought we had it all figured out. I was with the one girl I thought I would be with forever, and you were with a guy you thought deserved you way more than he did.
Look at us now.
Wanting more than anything to be free to love each other but cursed by bad timing and loyal hearts. We both know where we want to be; we just don’t know how to get there. Or when we should get there. I wish things were as easy as they seemed when I was nineteen. We’d grab a calendar and pick a date, and we’d start a countdown until I could show up at your front door and start loving you.
However, I’ve learned that the heart can’t be told when and who and how it should love. The heart does whatever the hell it wants to do. The only thing we can control is whether we give our lives and our minds the chance to catch up to our hearts.
I know that’s what you want more than anything. Time to catch up.
As much as I want to stay here and allow this to begin between us, there’s something I want from you even more than that. I want you to be with me in the end, and I know that can’t happen if I keep trying to rush our beginning. I know exactly why you were hesitant to let me in last night: you aren’t ready yet. Maybe I’m not, either. You’ve always said you wanted time to yourself, and the last thing I want is to start a relationship with you when I’ve barely given enough respect to the one that just ended with Maggie.
I don’t know when you’ll be ready for me. It might be next month or next year. Whenever it is, just know that I have absolutely no doubt that we can make this work. I know we can. If there are two people in this world capable of finding a way to love each other, it’s us.