Chapter 28 #3
It’s his last day off work; I can’t believe how fast the time went. Some days it feels like I’ve never left, that this is simply how life would have been if the past five years had never happened. Other days, it’s hard to swallow that it’s been almost three weeks.
“I’ve been having trouble with the concept of time lately,” I say.
“How are you feeling about it all?” he asks.
Theo hasn’t called me back since our chat last week. So while that’s been in the back of my mind, I’m trying to not let those logistics get in the way of what Adam and I are rebuilding.
“You mean the house?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He pours milk into my mug, allowing the froth to create a heart shape.
“I think…” I smile. “I’d like to own this house together.”
“I’d like that too.” Adam passes me my mug and leans in to give me a kiss.
It’s gentle, yet lasts longer than a peck.
When we part, there’s a brief moment when we smile at each other.
Almost like there’s this unspoken sentiment, like neither of us quite believes the universe has brought us back together.
“So, we’d rent it out?” I take a sip of coffee, the hints of cinnamon and nutmeg soothing. “Like we’d be landlords?” I chuckle at the sound ofit.
Adam sits down at the dining table, and even though there are three extra chairs, I follow and sit on his lap.
“I mean, that could be one option.” He wraps an arm around my waist. “Or we don’t let other people live here.”
The plan was always to either rent the house and use it as an investment or sell it. Now it’s beginning to feel like Adam’s asking me something else.
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I say.
“We’re already living here.” Adam takes a sip of his coffee. “And it’s been nice.”
“It has been nice.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “Plus, it would be weird to have other people live here.”
“So weird,” he echoes.
“I got the part in Les Mis, ” I say softly.
“Y-You did?” He smiles.
I nod. “éponine.”
“June…” He sets his coffee on the table and pulls me into a hug. His hands cup my cheeks, and he gives me a kiss, a kiss I don’t want to end. “Congratulations. Fucking Les Misérables. ”
“I know.” I close my eyes.
He pulls away to look at me. “How do you feel?”
“Mixed emotions,” I say.
“I can imagine,” he says gently.
I adjust myself in his lap and take a deep breath. “I also got an offer for a movie…” I look up at him, and his eyebrows are now raised. “If I do it, I can’t do Les Mis. ”
“Oh wow.” He lets out an exhale. “But, June, that’s amazing news too.” He grabs my hand, genuinely happy for me. “This is not a bad problem to have.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I say, and I hold my breath waiting for his answer. Expecting him to say stay here, chooseme.
“You’ll make the right decision for you.” He looks at me, his eyes warm. “And I’ll support you either way.”
There’s a piece of lint on his sweater that I pick off and rub in between my fingers.
“How are Ford and Sarah?” I ask, looking at the small ball of cotton I made.
He drags a breath in, like my asking is the most intimate thing we’ve done all week. In a way, it is. His family is a topic I’ve intentionally avoided this entire time, but something I’ve been wondering about all these years.
“They’re good,” he says, and I’m relieved. “Dad’s the same and Sarah’s in med school.”
Though it’s nobody’s fault but my own, it hurts to think of a whole chapter of her life finished that I wasn’t around for. “Oh my God, med school? For what?”
“To be a radiologist,” he says like he can’t believe it. “It scares me how smart she is.”
“Wow…Adam, that’s amazing.” I look at him and know how proud he must be. “You know, I’m not surprised. She was always smarter than all of us.”
“Oh, definitely,” he chuckles, and then his fingers lazily draw circles on my thigh. “They’ve missed you.”
My heart drops. Ford never tried reaching out, and while I stayed in touch with Sarah for the first few years, we naturally drifted apart, being on opposite sides of the country.
Phone calls about her dates and the stress of school turned into texts, then the occasional Happy Birthday text.
Running away from Adam meant losing every part of him, even the parts I could hardly live without.
“I’ve missed them too. ” I squeeze his arm, making sure he knows. “Can I tell you something?”
“Always.”
“Sometimes when I’m scared, or sad, or…just feeling lonely, I think of your mom,” I say softly. “Like she’s watching over me or something.”
I’m not a religious person, but there’s a part of me that likes to think Audrey is with me, giving me the strength to get through the things that are challenging.
“I do the same.” A somber smile fills Adam’s face.
“I think she’d be happy for us.” I give him a little nudge.
“Oh, are you kidding?” Adam throws his head back. “She’d be ecstatic. She loved you, June. I wish I could tell her it all worked out.”
There’s a tight feeling in my throat I try to push down, while at the same time I hold back the tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
“I think she knows,” I say. There’s a spot between the crook of Adam’s neck and shoulder that I bury my face into, and he kisses the side of my head. I swallow and feel Adam’s hand gently squeeze my hip.
“June,” Adam says softly. “You know I love you, right?”
My head lifts up to meet his gaze. He’s staring back intently, eyes bigger than I’ve ever seen them before.
Years of memories play across his face as he waits for me to answer.
It’s suddenly eleven years ago, and he’s teaching me how to poach an egg.
It’s ten years ago, and he’s giving me the only seat on the subway while he stands.
It’s eight years ago, and I’m ironing his pants before an interview.
It’s seven years ago, and he’s crying into my shoulder as we pick Audrey’s dress for the funeral.
It’s six years ago, and I spot him in the audience, cheering during my curtain call.
There are many things I could do or say in this moment, but I simply nod and move one of the hands wrapped around his neck down to his heart.
“I love you too, Adam.”
It’s not anything flashy or performative, because it’s not a confession. It’s not a declaration. We’re simply saying out loud what we’ve both always known. What we’ve been showing each other for years.
I don’t hold my tears back anymore and I place my head back in that crook, knowing it’s mine.
I can’t help but think of all the years we spent apart, how during all that time we could have had this.
I want to ask him if it was all worth it, but it’s more of a question for myself.
A question I’ll never have the answer to, no matter how many years goby.
Maybe that’s how life is—we do things because it’s the best decision we can make in the moment, and there’s no way of knowing if we made the right choice. There’s no way to gauge if all of it’s for nothing, or if it’s so we can have everything.