Does that mean you’re my people?
Acknowledging his need to feel emotions:
I love adventure more than anything else, and probably always will. I’ve been thinking about it all day and realized it’s one of the only places I feel things.
And identifying when he stopped showing them in the first place:
That pretty much solidified that, even as an adult, letting people see the real me and meet my family just wasn’t an option.
She rubbed a palm across her sternum as she relived his experiences, absorbing the whole picture of who he was all at once. A strange mix of fascination and sorrow settled low in her gut as she realized just how deep his passion for adventure ran and how important it was to him. How it had served as an escape and a gift to a man who needed something to prove he was worth believing in.
That he’d trusted her enough to share these things with her was momentous in itself, but then…he started to write about her.
Things that made her breath catch and her heart lodge in her throat.
High: I woke up with you curled up against my side.
PS. Remember when we were at that restaurant and you told off the guy on his phone? I didn’t want you to give him your number.
I’m just feeling…something. Something I haven’t let myself feel in a long time, and I don’t know why it’s changing with you.
I’ve never felt judged by you.
Even when you say I’m an asshole. For some reason I find it endearing.
Then came you. A woman who I can be myself around and who I’m actually going to let come meet my parents. And you know what I don’t feel this time?
Fear.
By the time she made it to the final email, she knew what she’d find inside. She knew because he’d been different with her this weekend. It was in the soft way he looked at her and in the gentle intensity of his touch.
She knew because she felt it, too.
I’ve fallen in love with you.
I can’t help but wonder if that will be the final piece that puts my heart back together. If so, know that it will be all yours, whether I can tell you or not.
I hope you want it as much as I want you to have it.
Tears streamed down her face as she stared, the words that should have made her heart burst with joy swimming in a blur across the screen. How long had she wished for a man to love and who loved her back, someone to share her life with? For a man who saw her as she was, flaws and all, and loved her all the more because of it?
What was the universe playing at?
Because as much as she cared for Graham and deeply wished things were different, she had to take a step back. It had been one thing when they agreed to just sex, because feelings hadn’t been part of that deal.
She couldn’t handle an attachment to a man who lived like he did. Her reaction the day he arrived in the ER and then again after last night’s dream made that fact painfully clear.
She swallowed a sob and leaned forward to bury her face in her arms. She’d already decided they needed to talk, and knew it wouldn’t be easy. But now? After reading him lay his heart bare?
She didn’t know how she’d survive it.
24
By midafternoon, Graham started to regret his decision.
He’d heard nothing from Claire all day. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected…but it definitely wasn’t nothing.
Maybe he’d hoped for a text that said, I got your emails. Can’t wait until you get home, followed by a naked picture?
A kiss or heart emoji at the very least.
What did her silence mean?
By the time Graham’s buddy dropped him at home, his stomach was in knots. Suddenly he was thirteen again, back in that media room waiting for the girl he liked to show up.
He shook the thought away. This is different. Claire’s different.
Maybe she couldn’t figure out her password and never read the emails? The thought gave him a sliver of hope, but not much.
He walked in and spotted her immediately, sitting on the couch with her back to the door. Gertrude charged toward him in greeting, tail wagging, but he couldn’t even look at his beloved dog. All he could do was wait for Claire to turn so he could see her face.
That’s when he saw the laptop on the table.
He slowly made his way to her, the thump of his crutches on the hardwood echoing in the silent room.
She looked up when he sat beside her.
She lifted her lips in a small smile, but she wasn’t happy. Pink splotches covered her face and her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.
Somehow, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Something dark and anxious tightened and twisted deep inside him. He inhaled her scent, wondering if this would be his last chance to do so. He meant to be patient and let her speak first, but the words crawled up his throat. “You read them?”