Someday Never Came

Chapter Forty-Seven

Music blares from the truck’s old speakers as we travel down highway, swiftly taking me away from the ocean, the beach house, and from all the men I love. Jensen’s hand on my thigh is the only thing keeping me sane. It keeps me in place and prevents me from breaking—from shattering into thousands of pieces, never to be glued back together.

His eyes are locked on the road, never once glancing in my direction. Not even when we park, when he grabs my bag, opens my door, or even as he reaches for my hand to guide me through the familiar parking lot. He hesitates as we approach the door clearly labeled for departures. Slowly Jensen turns to face me, swiping the pad of his thumb over my lips before pulling me into a hug.

“You ready?” Jensen’s words come out wrong, strangled. I nod, before wiggling out of his reach. Afraid if I don’t take my next step through those doors, I never will.

He follows, not two steps behind as we march through the airport, silent once more. As we approach the TSA checkpoint the panic in me has fully taken over.

Every step we take feels like a thousand-pound weight slowing my steps. My chest is so tight, it hurts to breathe, and the feeling of absolute uncertainty takes root deep within me. I have two choices: leave, knowing he won’t be the one to reach out, being ashamed of his actions, his words. Or agree to meet again. I know if I leave him like this, that’s it. No more chances at someday. Forcing him to stop in his tracks, I turn to look at him. Concern shines through his features. I know he’s speaking, but all I can make out is a question about forgetting something.

Shaking my head I manage to catch my breath long enough to get a couple of sentences out. “You are enough. I need you to know that.” Hearing my voice shake slightly, I go on. “I need you to know I love you. It doesn’t matter what else stands in our way.”

Shock flickers across his face before the years of military training kick in, allowing a carefully crafted mask to slip into place. I don’t allow him to speak before I continue with my speech.

“The truth is, I will always run to you, and that has always been the issue. I have always chosen you even when you didn’t, couldn’t, or wouldn’t, choose me just as fiercely. My soul will always be yours.” Feeling myself growing desperate, I press on. “If you asked anything of me, it would be yours. If you need me in sixty seconds, tomorrow, or in another ten years I will be there, just as promised. But that is the problem, isn’t it? You have aways known somewhere in that thick skull of yours that I was more than a fond memory, or a summer fling. That is why you always find me, you search me out when you feel it’s safe for me to be involved. But the truth is: you trying to protect me for all these years has caused more harm than good. You need to know that. You need to know I have been haunted by the ghost of you, not knowing if you were okay, or even alive for years, Jensen. I could stand here, and I could try to make sure you understand exactly what it is I am saying. But if at this point, you don’t know how I feel, or question my love for you at all, then there is nothing left for me here anyway. I wholeheartedly believe you know exactly what I am about to say and ask of you. You are capable of loving me, a part of you already does, despite yourself.”

He isn’t breathing, his entire expression is a stone mask as I take in a deep breath.

“Here goes nothing. This is my rom-com moment at the airport, where someone lays it all on the line before flying back home. This is me saying once and for all I am in this. I am yours if you will have me, Jensen. This is our final chance. No more running from us, no more what ifs. This is me offering you what could truly be our happily ever after, romance book ending. All you have to do is choose us and allow me to be by your side. I’ll fight whatever demons you have by your side, because you’re not alone. I will walk through hell’s front doors and fight the devil himself if that is what it takes for you to have peace.

I can see us—our future—if you say yes. I will tell you all about it. I am not asking you to choose now—I know you need time. You need to process. So here is what I am offering you today: one year. Three hundred and sixty-five days of me—I am yours. Mind, body, and soul for the next year. You know how to contact me, all you have to do is come and get me. No invitation is needed, I’ll be waiting. I waited a decade for our second chance, so what does one more year matter if it means I might get what I always wanted?

If in three hundred and sixty-five days you haven’t reached out, you haven’t found me, you haven’t shown up with roses and the fucking romance novel grand gesture I deserve, then I will know without a doubt we are over for good. I’ll know you did not choose me. I will accept that and try to move on the best ways I know how. I will assume you found someone else and that we were truly never meant to be.” I pause to take in a deep breath. “I’ll know you never want to touch me like this again.” I take his hand and lace our fingers together. I lean up on my tiptoes whisper in his ear, “I’ll know you never want to fuck me as I forcibly leave no space between our bodies.” The twitch in his jeans letting me know I have his attention. “And I’ll know you never want to see me again.” I whimper, attempting to keep my emotions in check.

I look up to see his eyes shining, full of what I fear is regret. I want to question him, to know why this feels like a final goodbye, but he pulls me into the most heartbreaking, beautiful kiss a person can imagine. Just like that, I am once more lost in the entangled web of Jensen Dean Adler.