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“What’s that?” Justine asks, her voice soft.
“I’m falling in love with you, and I don’t want to stop,” I say simply. “And not because I’m on the rebound or because we work together. It’s because you listened when I needed someone to hear me. You didn’t try to fix me or tell me how tofeel. You just . . . were there. I liked having you in my space when everything else felt like it was closing in around me and suffocating me. You were the breath that pulled me out.”
Justine is quiet for a moment, and I feel my heart thudding in my chest.
“Quinn James,” she finally says, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Are you making relationship declarations on Christmas night, over video chat, while I’m in my pajamas with no makeup on?”
I laugh, relief flooding through me. “You’re beautiful without the makeup,” I tell her. “You’re gorgeous when you’ve been up all night writing songs or after a show and your hair is all wild. I think you’re one of the most stunning women I’ve ever had the chance to be in the presence of . . .”
“Quinn—”
“And yes, I guess I am making relationship declarations on Christmas. Is that okay?”
“It’s perfect,” Justine says. “Because I know I’m falling for you. To be honest, I’ve fallen.”
I feel something settle in my chest, a certainty I haven’t felt in a long time. “When I get back to the tour, we’re going to talk about this properly. Make some real plans.”
“Real plans, I like the sound of that.”, Justine repeats, her eyes sparkling. “What
kind of real plans are we talking about?”
“Well, for starters, I want you to meet my family. The real them, not the tour version.”
“Even Juniper?” Justine teases.
“Especially Juniper,” I say with mock seriousness. “I’ve already told her about you. I think she approves.”
“Oh, does she now?”
“Yep. She’s very discerning for someone who’s only a month old.”
Justine’s smile softens. “I’d like that. Meeting your family. All five babies included.”
“And I want to write with you. Not just tour songs, but real stuff. The kind that means something.”
“I’d like that too,” Justine says. “And maybe . . .” she hesitates.
I feel my heart skip with anticipation.
From upstairs, I hear my name being called. “Quinn! Mom’s making hot chocolate!”
“You should go,” Justine says, hearing the voice. “Enjoy your family time.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow?” I ask, not quite ready to hang up.
“You better,” Justine says. “Sweet dreams, Quinn.”
“Sweet dreams, Justine.”
As I end the call, I sit for a moment, phone in hand, feeling a lightness I haven’t experienced in years. It’s not just freedom from Nola, from walking on eggshells or feeling like I’m not enough. It’s the certainty that with Justine, I’ve found someone who sees me—all of me—and chooses to stay anyway.
“Quinn!” My mom’s voice floats down the stairs again. “The babies are awake!”
I smile to myself. Time to go be Uncle Quinn again. But now, for the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to what comes next.
The weather iscrisp but welcome. I leave Peyton’s early, needing the fresh air, hoping it will give me, in some odd way, the courage I need to tell my family about Justine. Telling them that Nola and I are done went better than I thought, but it also freed me to admit my feelings for Justine. Telling her where myhead and heart are felt liberating. It was like a cinderblock had been lifted off my chest.
Now to tell my family about Justine. I’m not sure if I should tell my parents first and then my sisters or what, but I’m worried about Elle and how she’s going to react. There’s a lot at stake if things with Justine and I go south.