Page 76

“I am so sorry, Greyson,” I finally say the words that have weighed on me for so long. They come out a lot softer than I intended them to, though—a quiet, broken admission. A world of regrets andwhat ifslaced carefully through them.

But he shakes his head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says, and a tear unwittingly slips free, sliding down my cheek. He wipes it away with his thumb, curving his hand over my shoulder and sliding it down my back. He holds me against him as he continues, “I’ve had a lot of time to think things over, and I—I think I’ve always trusted that you had your reasons. That they were important to you...

“I think I just need to hear them,” he says, his brow creasing as if he’s still mulling over his own thoughts, “From your lips. This one time, so we can move forward.”

I nod, swallowing thickly. I did have my reasons. And theywereincredibly important to me. I had things to prove to myself, a world of hurt to recover from, and a past to prove wrong. And I think I knew, on some level, that I had to do these things on my own before I ever could’ve given someone like Greyson the love that he deserved.

It’s something I know with absolute surety now.

But still…I never should’ve— “I never should’ve left you like that.” I shake my head against his chest, somehow managing to hold the rest of my tears at bay. “But I was afraid,” I whisper. “I was so fucking afraid that I would give up everything for you, and it would be for nothing. That something would change for you, and you wouldn’t be waiting to come back to me anymore.

“Because I would’ve done that. I would’ve given up so much—too much, maybe—to wait for you, if I’d known you would come back.”

I don’t realize I’m staring down at my feet, chin trembling, until Greyson lifts my face in his hands, forcing my gaze back to his. I blink back my tears, and the look in his eyes tells me he’d like to end this conversation right here and pull me into him and crush me against his chest. And I want that,I do, but I force myself to continue anyway, because he needs to hear these words, and I need to say them more than I ever thought possible.

“I wanted that, Greyson. More than anything,” I continue, swallowing thickly. “You have to believe that I did. I just didn’t think there was any way in hell it would actually happen,” I say, shaking my head. “At the time, I was sure it wouldn’t, so…I left.

“I ran away, because I thought…” I almost choke on my words, on the sob building in my throat. I take a deep breath and push past the shakiness in my chest—in my heart, in my voice. “I thought you’d leave first. And it felt like—for once…like I was in control. That life couldn’t screw me over and push me down its own path like it always did, becauseIhad made the choice to walk away.” The shakiness in my chest intensifies, my heart thundering. I rub my hand against it, willing them to settle.

He takes a deep breath and releases it, closing his eyes. It’s a few breaths, a few heartbeats, before he opens them again, his gaze meeting mine. “I’m not going to pretend that it didn’t hurt—that it didn’t fucking hurt like hell—but I understand, Jess. I do. I get it.” His gaze bores into mine. “I was afraid, too…

“But my fears became my reality.”

“I know,” I say, barely audible. I press my face into his chest, and the rainstorm of tears finally fight their way free, falling down my face one by one. “You have to know how truly sorry I am.”

His hands slide up my back and into my hair; he rests his chin down on the top of my head. “I know, Jess. I do,” he says, followed by a deep and quiet sigh. My head rises and falls with the movement, a few more tears sliding down my cheeks.

I didn’t think this would make me so emotional. Or maybe I did. Maybe that’s why I kept running from this very conversation. But now that I’ve found myself in the middle of it, now that I’ve finally spilled the words from my lips, I feel a hundred pounds lighter. Even with the unknown still sitting before me.

“You’re here now. That’s all that really matters to me,” Greyson says, slicing into my awareness, and if I wasn’t already crying, I think I would completely break down with the relief that washes through me. “We have now,” he continues, his voice vibrating in his chest, humming against my cheek, and I press myself closer to him. “This moment—you and me—and what I hope is a lot more time spent together to make up for the years we lost. That’s all I want, Jess,” he finishes quietly.

His fingers gently tug at my hair, forcing me to look up at him. His green eyes swim before me. “God, I’ve missed you,” he breathes, brushing the streaks of my tears away with the back of his hand.

“I missed you, too. So much,” I whisper, and then I lift up onto my toes and press my mouth to his.

Our lips slowly move together, soft and hard all at once, and the ache in my chest smooths away and shifts into something else entirely.

And this kiss. It doesn’t care about expectations, or disappointments, or mistakes. It doesn’t care about regrets, or the past, or eight years lost. It only cares about the fact that I’ve loved this man for a lifetime, and that I plan on showing him exactly how much I’ve missed him—missedthis—

—missed us—with anything else but words.

Sixty-four Before

“LIKE THIS,” Isaid, stroking the brush outward in short, curved flicks against the canvas. I pulled my hand away from Greyson’s and watched him finish the tip of the wave on his own.

Someone knocked on my door, and Greyson practically pushed me out of his lap. I glared at him, amused, as my dad walked into my bedroom.

“Jessica, Greyson,” my dad greeted with a smile. He loved Greyson. They all did. Elizabeth, and especially the twins. One dinner was all it took to bridge the gap between our past and the present, and Greyson, somehow, had kind of been like the unofficial starting point. The safe buffer we needed to start fresh and get to know each other.

“This came in the mail for you,” he continued, setting an envelope down on my dresser. “Elizabeth and I are heading out. But we’ll bring dinner home in a few hours. Are you staying for dinner, Greyson?”

“You bet.” He smiled, and my dad laughed.

“Alright, see you two in a few. Behave yourselves.” He motioned with two fingers, pointing them between Greyson’s eyes and his in that silentI’m watching yougesture. I rolled my eyes.

“And Greyson?” he added.

“Yes, sir?”