Chapter 22
Adam
After the conversation that went so far off the rails I couldn’t have made it up, we ordered takeout. It was like discovering a new element and then sitting down for a microwave dinner or something—total novelty and excitement and unanticipated joy, and then a banal finish. Though sitting next to Jo, being near her and feeling this peace about the decision we’d made—and the one I’d accepted—would never feel routine.
It was only after we’d eaten and snuggled up on the couch to watch a movie that I realized how tired she seemed.
“Hey, are you okay?”
She paused the movie and angled herself to be able to see me better. “I’m great. Thank you for talking through everything and seeing it my way.”
I chuckled, loving this little hint of sass. “It works out for me, too. But I mean… I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a total jerk, but you seem tired. Like there’s something on your mind.”
Her smile fell and she took a long breath. “I talked to Elizabeth, my sister, today. I love her so much, but it always kind of messes me up for a few days.”
“I’d like to understand that, if you’re willing to share.” I didn’t want to press her, but since she’d mentioned it, I could see the weight of it dragging at her shoulders and wrinkling her brow.
“It’s probably going to make me sound like a whiney little kid, so brace yourself.”
She raised a brow, and I shook my head to show I wasn’t going to think that.
“You know Elizabeth works for the government, mostly overseas doing fancy, important stuff.”
I hadn’t asked around amongst the folks at work, but I should’ve. Maybe someone had worked with her sister while on active duty since the EMU did occasionally partner with other government assets.
“I got my master’s because she has one. And honestly, I thought I wanted it. It gave me purpose at a time when my dad moved out here and I needed an excuse to leave Washington. My mom’s great but she and I have never been super close, and I couldn’t just follow my dad without creating major drama. But with the purpose of grad school, it worked for everyone—Dad was happy I was closer, Mom was appeased I wasn’t just abandoning her for ‘no reason,’ and Elizabeth…” She sighed. “Elizabeth thought what I was doing could make a difference.”
“How much older than you is she?” I asked, sensing there was a sizable gap. It wasn’t unlike me and Ethan—I’d always had to be careful about how I talked to him because he took everything I said to heart so intensely.
“Six years. She was out of the house by the time my parents got divorced. She was… she was always so far ahead, and I looked up to her so much. I knew I didn’t want to work for the government or live overseas, but I thought I’d found my own path, and she seemed excited for me whenever I talked about it. But the reality was, I didn’t love my program, and I didn’t love the job prospects—climbing the rungs at a non-profit to eventually aim at director of communications or something like that. I never imagined being in the corporate world, but even that, she suggested, could be a force for good depending on the company. It just… none of it clicked for me. Every time I talk to her since I graduated over a year ago, there’s this pause after I tell her I haven’t found a job using my degree, and I can just hear her disappointment. I can hear her thinking I’m wasting my life.”
The urge to defend her rose hot in my chest, but I could see coming at her sister wouldn’t be right. “Is it possible you’re filling in those silences with your own thoughts, and not actually what Elizabeth feels?”
She dropped her head and let it hang as though in defeat before she raised it to give me her eyes again. “Yes. It is entirely possible. But it’s also absolutely the main reason I haven’t gone public with Josie Wade. I can just imagine her laughing, thinking I’m joking or writing on the side rather than making this a business, a life. And I hate the idea of disappointing her or embarrassing her, even though logically I know none of those things should factor into the choices I make for my own life and happiness.”
I brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “That sounds really hard and frustrating. How can I help?”
She tilted her head. “Help?”
“Yeah. I can give you an inspirational speech about how much what you do does matter. I can give you a hug. I can?—”
“Hug, please. And maybe table the inspirational speech for another time?”
I took her in my arms, wrapping her up and relishing the way she melted into me. I inhaled her soft scent, and she buried her face in my neck.
Then I felt it. That little bursting burn in my chest I’d shoved away countless times since I’d met her, and here on her too-small couch in the quiet of the evening and the peace of the embrace, I heard it, too.
This is it.
She is it.
I pulled in a breath, pushing away the panic I expected to come, but none came. As we parted and I kissed her forehead and she settled in next to me and started the movie, none came.
As she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder, our fingers entwined, my mind had run out of excuses.
I’d never felt anything like this before, though now that I’d let it in, I could admit I’d been choosing not to. I’d been avoiding it as it barreled closer and begged me to notice that this woman was so much more than beautiful and kind. She was everything.
I only hoped her faith in me wasn’t misplaced.
And I hoped I could give her everything she needed—everything she wanted, too—and if not, that she could walk away happy and whole. And me?
Well. I hoped I’d survive it if it ever came to that.