23. Chapter 23 #2
“Did you mean it?”
“Every word.”
My chest tightens, and I look down at our joined hands because looking at his face right now feels impossible.
“But how can you be so sure?” I ask, and I hate the way my voice wavers. “We've only been doing this for a few weeks, Jamie. You barely knew me before all of this. You barely knew Ella. How can you say something like that and just… mean it?”
He's quiet for a moment, his thumb still tracing slow circles on the back of my hand. Then he shifts, turning his whole body toward me so our knees press together.
“You want to know how I'm sure?” he says, his voice low enough that it's just for me.
“Because I've spent my whole life around people who had every reason to love me and didn't. My father.
My mother. People who shared my name, but couldn't be bothered to show up for a single thing that mattered to me. Only things that mattered to them.”
His free hand comes up to my face, his fingers gentle against my jaw.
“And then there's you,” he says. “You, who had every reason to hate me and still let me in. You, who built this entire life out of nothing and made it beautiful. You, who raised the most incredible little girl I've ever met and gave her enough love to fill every gap I left behind.”
His eyes are steady on mine, and I can feel my throat getting tight.
“I'm sure because when I'm with you and Ella, I don't have to pretend to be someone else.
I don't have to earn it or perform for it or prove I'm worth it. You just… let me be here.” His voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat.
“That's never happened to me before. Not once in my entire life.”
I blink hard against the sting behind my eyes, but it doesn't help.
“I'm not saying it because I got caught up in the moment, Tiff. I'm saying it because it's the truest thing I've ever said.”
I catch my breath just as he leans in and kisses me.
It's soft, sweet, and everything I didn't know I needed.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my lips. His eyes are close and he looks beautiful when he’s at peace.
The calm doesn’t last for long because a fresh wave of anxiety crashes through me. Jamie just said the most honest and beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me, and I’m sitting here with my mouth shut like a coward.
Say it. Just say it. He means it. You’re starting to feel it. Just open your mouth and—
I can’t.
The silence stretches, and I feel it thickening between us.
I swallow.
“Jamie, I—”
He opens his eyes, and they’re so warm, so patient, that it makes it worse.
“I want to say it back.” My voice is barely there.
“You have no idea how much I want to, but every time I try, something in me locks up, and I just—” I swallow hard, my eyes burning.
“I need more time. Not because of you. Because of me.
Because I've spent three years raising our daughter alone, four years telling myself I didn't need anyone, and now you're here and you're saying all the right things, and I'm terrified that this could all end.”
Jamie doesn’t flinch, or pull away, he just nods slowly, and the corner of his mouth lifts into the softest smile I've ever seen.
“That's okay,” he says simply.
“It is?”
“Tiff.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I didn't tell you I loved you so you'd say it back. I told you because you deserved to hear it, and it's true. Whether you ever say it back doesn’t change the face that I'll still be right here.”
He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I feel it everywhere—in my chest, in my stomach, in the tips of my fingers. In my heart.
When he pulls back, his eyes stay closed for a second, his breath warm against my cheek.
Ella's still staring out the window, Mr. Squishy propped up beside her so he can see too. Jamie tightens his grip, and I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing in the moment. His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand, a gentle rhythm that matches the beating of my heart.
“I’m not leaving you, Tiff. Never,” he whispers.
I close my eyes and let the words sink in, pressing them somewhere deep where the doubt can't reach them. Not yet, anyway.
The gondola rocks gently as it begins its descent, the carnival lights growing brighter and closer beneath us. Ella turns from the window, Mr. Squishy tucked under her arm, her cheeks flushed pink from excitement.
“That was so high!” she announces. “Mr. Squishy was a little bit scared, but I told him to be brave.”
“That was very good advice,” Jamie says, his voice steady, like he wasn't just holding me together thirty seconds ago.
“Can we go again?” she asks.
“Maybe next time, baby,” I say, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “It's getting late.”
She pouts but doesn't argue, already distracted by the lights below. Jamie helps her out of the gondola when it stops, lifting her with one arm while the other keeps hold of mine, like letting go of either of us isn't something he's willing to do.
We walk back through the carnival, Ella between us, her small hands gripping one of each of ours. She swings herself forward every few steps, giggling as we catch her weight.
“Again!” she demands, and we do it, over and over, until my arm aches and I don't care.
Jamie catches my eye over the top of her head, and he smiles. Not the charming one. Not the careful one. The real one. The quiet and full one, only meant for me.
I didn't say it back, because I’m not there yet, but in my heart I know I’m closer than I’ve ever been.