Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
True to his word, Aiden was waiting for me at Honeybee Coffee. I’d read the final pages in five minutes, speeding through to read every word Aiden had written to me. Then I read it a second time, carefully analyzing each line because Aiden didn’t waste words. Then I read it until the sun set and there was no light left in my bedroom except for the streetlight in front of my house barely brightening the room.
Honeybee was closed now, Aiden’s car the only one in the parking lot. The hatchback of the car was open, and he was lying inside it on his back, his legs swinging back and forth, skimming the gravel.
When my car pulled into the lot, Aiden sat up and stepped out from his trunk. His suit jacket was off, his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” Aiden said cautiously.
My heart swelled at just the sight of him, the frantic hammer in my chest screaming at me that he loved me. That the imperfectly perfect man standing just a few feet away loved me, and he was here and wanted me like I wanted him.
“Before you say anything,” he said, “I want you to hear it from me because you deserve to hear it. You deserve more than a second-hand I love you. And I do—I love you. I love you so much. And I’m so sorry. If I could, I’d go back in time and change the way I handled everything so you knew how much I cherish what we had.”
“Aiden—”
“I’m sorry I was an asshole about the fellowship and that I’ve been an asshole about romance. I should’ve told you that I applied. I went to Ida first thing in January and tried to rescind my application because I knew by then how important this was to you, but she said the applications had already gone through, and I was too late. I wished every day I wouldn’t get it and then, when I did, I tried to pretend like it didn’t matter. But it did and it does and I’m sorry. You deserve everything I can’t give you, but I swear every single day, I’ll try.”
I didn’t say anything, I just pulled the two sheets of papers from behind my back and stepped toward him, handing him his copy.
He frowned. “What’s this?”
“You wrote your last chapter, and I wrote mine.”
He looked down at me, a little dazed it seemed, and carefully took the paper, slowly unfolding it. I watched his green eyes skim the first few lines until they snapped up to meet mine.
“Rosie—”
“I’ve got mine, too,” I said. I held up my stack of papers and cleared my throat. “ Hi .”
When he continued to stare at me, I nodded at his paper, prodding him to continue.
“ Hi ,” he read.
“I’ve spent my whole life defending what I love. Prepared to jump to the defense of romance with nothing else in sight. But it wasn’t fair for me to not celebrate your success. Love should be come hell or high water, and I’m here for all of it with you. I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you instead of just running away when it all got too hard. But the truth is I’m scared. Because you’re right that I’ve set every expectation too high, but it’s because I’m scared of showing who I am and for it to not be enough. I’ve always wanted to be someone somebody can love. Not just like or admire, but love. I’ve yearned to find someone who looks for me in crowded streets and smiles in relief. Or wishes for me every chance they get. Someone who genuinely knows me and wants to figure out how to know more. But I feel like I never figured out how to give love, too.”
Aiden looked down at his paper and said, “Do I really have to start a sentence only for you to interrupt me?”
“Yes.”
A hint of a smile appeared. He cleared his throat. “ Rosalinda, I don’t— ”
“But I love you ,” I interrupted him. The pages were empty after this line because I didn’t need to remind myself why I loved him. He looked up at me, waiting. “I love the way your hands find mine when we walk in a crowd, like you’re protecting me. I love the way your feet hang off the edge of my bed and how you’ve never complained once about it. I love that fucking peacoat.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes. But he was smiling. “I love you. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never had to second guess it. I shouldn’t have walked away from you.”
I reached forward and grabbed his hands. He interlaced our fingers.
“I’m scared too,” he confessed. His hands traveled up my arms until his hands cupped both sides of my face. “But I look for you in every crowded street, and when I see you, I smile in pure awe and relief. I wished upon every star and birthday candle for the idea of you, but when I met you last January, I wished for you , Rosie Maxwell. The girl who loves romance. The girl who can’t go three hours without chocolate. The girl who gets so annoyed with me, I can see it in the way her nose scrunches up. I wished for you until I didn’t know how to not long for you anymore.” His eyebrows creased as tears pooled in my eyes, his thumb caressing my cheek to swipe one away. “We’re both learning. And we’re both going to make so many mistakes, and we’re probably going to fuck this up a million more times.”
I laughed through the tears, my eyes shining up to meet his.
“But know that every single time I fuck up, I’ll come home to you. We’ll work together to make it better because we won’t abandon each other. We’ll make mistakes, we’ll learn lessons, and we’ll be tested. But we’ll come out so much stronger on the other side.”
I nodded, pressing my forehead against his chest. His hand cupped the back of my head, holding me to him.
“I’ll come home to you too.” I hadn’t meant to cry, but tears began to fall anyway. “There’s no one I’d rather fight with. I love you, Aiden Huntington.”
“I love you, Rosie Maxwell. I love you more than any person has loved another.”
“Wrong again,” I whispered before his lips captured mine, moving slowly against mine.
It had only been a few weeks without him, but I felt for the first time in as many weeks like I could breathe. I clutched the collar of his shirt in my hand, and he wrapped his hands around both sides of my waist.
And it was just like a romance novel.