Chapter 20 Jude
TWENTY
JUDE
She is stunning in her short black-and-silver dress.
The fabric wraps around those beautiful curves as she sways toward me.
The dress catches the light and sparkles, reminding me I want to worship her every day for the rest of my life.
I can’t take my eyes off of her as I get out of my seat and stand.
Our eyes meet, her pace slows, and I meet her where she stands.
Out of habit, I take her hand in mine as she smiles.
The shockwave that thunders through my body is jolting.
She shivers but doesn’t let go. Sure, it’s bold, but I don’t care.
This is my time to show her I’m all in. We head to the patio area where we find a high-top table.
It’s quieter on the patio, which is great—we can talk.
The ambiance of twinkling lights and the moon bright in the sky makes tonight perfect.
With a reluctant sigh, I let her hand slip from mine.
Pulling out her chair with a gentle scrape against the floor, I gesture for her to sit.
As I settle into the chair beside her, I can't help but lose myself in her presence. She actually came tonight. A part of me thought she might blow me off, which I’m sure I deserve.
“Thanks for coming out tonight,” I say, my voice carrying a mix of gratitude and relief. My focus shifts from the table back to her, and a wave of reassurance washes over me. We’re finally together again.
“I’m not sure where to begin,” I admit, my thoughts a tangled mass of emotions. “There’s so much I want to share.”
Nervously, I wipe my sweaty palms against my shorts, hoping the fabric will absorb some of the moisture. “You look gorgeous tonight,” I say, in total awe of her.
She shifts slightly in her seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a shy smile. “Thank you,” she replies.
I reach out and touch her shoulder, feeling the slight shiver that runs through her as goosebumps appear on her skin. “You’ve had such a positive impact on my life,” I confess, my voice serious. “I want you to know how important you were to me. I made so many mistakes back then.”
She nods, absorbing my words. At first, an expression of understanding crosses her face, then, there’s a flash of pain.
I press on, pouring out my heart. “For years, I’ve wanted to tell you that I still love you,” I say, but pause for a few seconds to gather my swirling thoughts.
“Back then, I let my friends convince me to end things. They said I wouldn’t have time for a relationship and that a long-distance relationship would never work.
I let their opinions cloud my judgment. But the biggest mistake I made was not finding a way back to you after you told me about the pregnancy. ”
I’ve kicked myself every single day about it.
It’s one thing to break up with someone, but I should’ve handled the news about her pregnancy differently.
I was already halfway to Utah by then, but I should’ve been there for her…
helped her. Something. But she said not to go back and that she was fine.
I know she was saying that to let me off the hook, and in reality, I know her better than that.
The tone she had with me wasn’t convincing.
After hearing the news, I should have found the nearest airport and flew home to be with her.
Again, my friends convinced me if she said she was okay with me not being there then I should let it go.
“I was wrong not to come home,” I admit, my head hanging low, heart heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry. You probably thought I was the worst person in the world, and that I didn’t care about you. The truth is quite the opposite, and all I want to do is make sure you know how much I cared and loved you.”
I’ve gone and done it now, diving head-first. I watch her reaction, and my hand is still on her shoulder. There’s more silence. I’ve been wanting to say the words I’m sorry for so long.
We are so close to each other, but neither of us move. It’s like we’re stuck, suspended in time as I gather the courage to listen to her feelings.
I drop my arm to my lap and lean back, not wanting to break the silence.
Instead of talking, I take in her beauty.
Her hair is blowing in the light breeze that is coming off the beach, and the smell of pizza wafts over from the tiki bar.
Taking in the moment and the silence that wraps around us, I stay quiet.
Faith leans toward me, and I mirror her movement as I wait for something—anything. She hesitates, her mouth opens and closes, but then says, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“This moment has been a long time coming. It was pretty shitty of me. I’m sorry for hurting you the way I did.
I have a lot of guilt and regret, and I can only hope you’ll forgive me.
” A lump forms in my throat as I continue, “This might feel like I’m coming out of left field, but I’ve been thinking about you ever since I left for Utah. ”
There’s more silence between us as the people around us are talking and moving about the resort. The music faintly plays as people in the pool laugh and splash around.
She stares at me with pleading eyes. “Jude, I’m processing what you said. I don’t understand why you didn’t come find me when you returned that summer after being in Utah? Your plan, I thought, was you and the guys would be coming home at the end of May and staying home for the summer.”
“Oh, you don’t know?” I swipe my hand down my face and look at her.
“Know what?” she asks, curiosity in her tone.
“I came home a couple months early for ACL surgery and extensive physical therapy. So I had family around to help me with recovery. I was in a really bad mental state at the time. You know how much I wanted this dream of becoming a professional snowboarder, and after the accident, my dreams were crushed. When I thought about reaching out and talking to you, all I did was chicken out. Then time kept passing, and it seemed harder and harder to even try.” I reach over and touch her face for a second, pushing that rogue piece of hair behind her ear.
She leans in ever so slightly as my hand lingers, and I feel the mood shift deep inside of me.
Tears brim in her eyes, shimmering with emotion, and I experience a sharp pain and undeniable pressure in my eyes.
I spring from my chair, wrapping my arms around her waist and lifting her from the stool before setting her on her feet.
My hand cradles her head against my chest, fingers lost in her hair, while my other arm wraps around her waist, my palm splayed on her back.
Her body melts into mine. Her warm vanilla scent invades my nose as she sobs into my chest. A tear escapes from my eye, betraying my vulnerability, and I let it roll down my cheek.
I’m not moving an inch while I have her in my arms.
After a few minutes, her tears subside, but neither of us loosens our grip. It’s a shared, special moment, and I run my fingers through her hair, savoring its smooth texture and coconut scent. She inhales, her breath catching slightly, then releases it with a soft sigh.
I lower my head, letting my chin rest on the top of hers, and whisper, “You okay?” I inhale her coconut scent again. It mixes with the salty air. I’ll do anything to feel closer to her.
She sighs again, and it sounds like relief.
She tilts her head up to meet my gaze, and her sky-blue eyes are filled with various emotions.
“I think so,” she replies, her voice steady, soft.
“That was overwhelming for me. After all the things I’ve rehearsed in my head for years, I still went blank.
I forgive you. I think about all the time we wasted—over a decade.
It could have been easier, but it looks like we both took the hard way. ”
“Of course, it was overwhelming,” I say, my voice filled with regret and sincerity. “You deserved better, and I never should have let you go through any of that alone.” I contemplate what she said. “Yes, we definitely took the hard way,” I say, as I scoff at myself.
She steps back, her arms releasing their hold on me. A rush of cool air runs through me as the warmth from her body disappears, leaving an emptiness in its wake. I’m already missing her presence and the comfort of her closeness.
“I went abroad that summer. I stayed away from Saxville as much as possible,” she admits as her head bows downward.
“I didn’t know that. You’ll have to tell me all about your experience one day…You want to take a walk?” I ask. There’s no way we are done. I need more time with her to hear her side and how she felt.
And I want to know how she feels now.
“Yes, I’d like that,” she says, moving away from the table.
I follow her, trying to keep my hands off of her. All I want to do is wrap myself around her—comfort her until she has no more tears. I stay close to her as we walk. Twice, my hand brushes against hers, sending sparks of electricity coursing up my arm.
“So, where did you go?” I ask, curious to hear about her adventure.
“All over Europe. It was one of the best experiences I have ever had in my life.” She lights up as she tells me about her trips. Come to find out, she went three years in a row, which is probably why we never bumped into each other in Saxville.
“Do you travel any other time besides for your girls’ trips?”
“Not in the last few years, you know, with all the schooling and then opening the practice. It was hard to even find the time for our trips. How about you? You travel all over the place. Where’s the most exotic place you’ve gone for a wedding?”
“Marrakesh, Morocco. It was a small destination wedding,” I say, thinking about the reception, which was over the top and amazing.
“That’s a place I’ve considered vacationing, along with a few other places like Thailand and Bali. One day, I’ll visit all of them.” She smiles at me, and it makes me want to smile back at her.
We come to the end of the walkway that veers off to the beach. Our footsteps halt, and I turn to face her. “This is the end, but I’m not ready to end our conversation. Want to head onto the beach, or would you rather head back to your room?”
“We can continue onto the beach,” she says as she slips off her flip-flops, and I do the same. “Oh wait, I need to text my friends.”
She takes a couple of minutes to text her friends. What for? I don’t know, but if it allows us more time together, then I’ll wait.
I decide to take her hand in mine as we walk onto the sand.
It’s uneven until we get to the packed sand, but neither of us lets go.
As we stroll down the beach, the waves are splashing over our feet.
The ocean breeze brings the salty air through our hair as the light of the moon glows on her as I stare at her beauty.
“All these years, Jude. The breakup devastated me, and the unplanned pregnancy made it worse. In retrospect, I’m amazed I survived my first year of college.
Well, therapy helped, hence the reason I changed my major.
” She takes a deep breath then continues, “But I’m not sure if I would have gotten through day-to-day life if it weren’t for my girlfriends.
The ones that are here are the ones who helped me through.
They distracted me, held me, and listened when I needed it. ”
I bring her hand to my lips as I kiss her hand and say, “Changing your major sounds like you followed your passion. I suspect you’re a great therapist.” I pause for a second. “Your friends sound supportive and loving. I’m glad you had people in your life when I wasn’t there for you.”
“I did what I had to do to survive and build a better life for myself without you. The experience was hard, and it shattered my heart all over the floor. I never could pick up all the pieces.” She tightens her grip on my hand.
I reciprocate the gesture and say, “My heart hasn’t been the same since you were in my life, Faith.
” The intense need to look her in the eyes is taking over, so I turn to her and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and take her other hand.
“No one has ever made me feel the way you make me feel. Even after all this time, when I’m close to you, my heart beats faster and I don’t want to leave you.
” I want to kiss her, but I reluctantly let go of her hands, deciding to leave it at that.
We are already at the resort entrance. “Let me walk you to your room.”
“I would like that,” she says, sliding her hand into mine.
It’s clear that we both feel relaxed and at ease with each other, so I choose not to overthink things.
It doesn’t mean we’re getting back together.
I’d be lying if I didn’t hope for a second chance now that we’ve talked a bit.
I’ve said some of what I wanted. If I don’t get to it all tonight, I sense she will continue to listen to what I have to say.
I’m allowing her space to process and think about everything as we walk through the resort.
We head past the packed tiki bar and people with drinks in the pool.
It’s loud in comparison to our silence as we make our way to her room.
For the duration of our walk, she doesn’t release my hand. The quietness between us spurs all the feelings within my body as we reach her door. She faces me, and I brush her cheek with my thumb. “I’m sorry, Faith.” I bring her in for an embrace tight against my body.
She hugs me back and says, “And I said I forgive you; no more apologizing. It’s time for us to move on from all of it. We’ve wasted enough time.”
“Okay, you’re right.” We stand together, holding each other as I whisper in her hair, “Can I see you again?”
She finally says, “I’d like that a lot.”