Page 139 of The Publicity Stunt

“Being with you is the only thing that matters to me. And no number of apologies will ever make up for the fact that I hid my marriage from you, but please …” I rest my forehead against hers. “Please let me try.”

“Parker …”

“April, I love you.” As soon as I say the words, her tears start to flow down relentless and wild.

“We probably can’t go back to the kind of people we used to be. The memories we shared, I know I’ve tarnished them all. But I want to make new ones with you. I want to keep making memories with you for the rest of my life. I don’t care if it’s ten years or a millennium. I don’t care how much either of us changes or doesn’t. Because you will always be my best friend. And I want to know you. Whoever you are today or decide to become tomorrow, I want to love every single version of you.”

I lace my fingers in between hers and she sniffs back her tears.

“You’re my person in this world, April. And, at the very least, I need my best friend back.” The words seep out of me. “Because without her, the world is starting to make perfect sense. And I hate it.”

She opens her eyes and I pull back my head to look at her. Nothing. There’s nothing. There’s no trace of a smile or anything even close to it. There’s nothing but tears.

I grip onto her fingers tightly, giving them one last squeeze, and start to take a step back, racking my brain for what to do next. But she tightens her grip on my hand and tugs me back.

I look at her, my heart back in my throat. She takes a shallow breath and lets go of my hand. “You made a speech,” she squeaks.

“I did.”

“You hate speeches.”

“I do.”

“But you made a speech,” she repeats.

I press my lips in a firm line and shrug. “Well, yeah. I just want to see you happy, April. You know that.”

“But what if I want to see you happy? You think you’ll be happy with me but … but what if you grow to hate me?”

“Hate you? Sweetheart, I could never—”

She cuts me off. “No, you don’t understand. I have so much pain inside me that just doesn’t seem to go away. Every day I wake up and it feels like a task to do something as basic as brushing my teeth. How can you still want me after everything? What if you just love the idea of making me happy? Even if it doesn’t necessarily make you happy? That’s not love and I’m not okay with that.”

“April, I love you and we’re going to be just fine.”

“You don’t know that. I just … I feel like it’s always sad inside my head. Like a forever winter. Cold and dead.”

She rests her cheek against my chest and I just want to stay like this for a little while more. Her head against my body, my arms around her, hers around me.

“That’s okay, Chere. I’ll warm you up. It’s never cold inside my head. Like a forever spring.”

A soft laugh leaves her mouth. “Spring? Most people would’ve gone with summer.”

“Yeah, well, most people don’t have what I have,” I say.

“Oh? And what do you have?” she asks.

“April in my arms. Forever spring.”

She looks up, meeting my eyes. “That was the corniest thing I’ve ever heard, Parker.”

I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her flat against my chest. I rest my chin on her head and whisper, “I’m the corniest man you’ll ever meet.”

She places her palms on my chest and laughs into my shoulder, and my heart soaks up the sound like a sponge. My hands travel to the center of her back and I draw her in close.

She tightens her grip around me and so do I, feeling her heartbeat under my chest. She wraps her arms around me, burying her face into my chest. And I can’t begin to explain what it feels like. Like she’s answering a question I haven’t even asked yet. Haven’t even formed in my head yet.

I cup the back of her head with my palm. And for the next few minutes, we go on holding each other like that.