Chapter 34 #2
It’ll probably stretch and hurt my brain and my heart at times.
But I don’t like living my life with that constant feeling in the back of my head that if I make one wrong move in front of a tourist, I’ll go viral again for being that mom whose kid cried a cuss word when his ice cream fell off the cone.
Or when a new friend is at my house and Yolko Ono pulls a Yolko Ono.
Not that I ever have new friends at my house.
Grey and Zen are the only two I’ve made since the wedding disaster, and they came fully vetted by Sabrina, who didn’t want to like them and actively tried to not let them into her life.
But the fact remains that since my wedding disaster, I’ve been more or less hiding.
Even when I’m out in Snaggletooth Creek, I’m cautious.
I keep secrets now. I trust less.
And I miss the version of me who believed in the best of everyone.
“No strings,” Jonas says quietly. “I wish I’d offered my resources to that friend I made back in Fiji. For her sake. Not mine.”
I look back at the sleeping little boy on the blanket beside me. His legs are spread wide, his shirt tugged up just enough for a sliver of his belly and his cute little outie belly button to show.
One day, he’ll have to know how to navigate the public eye too.
Whether he likes it or not.
He didn’t ask for us to be his parents. I owe him this.
No matter what ultimately happens between me and Jonas.
“When can Bash start?” I ask.
“Now.”
“ Now ? Oh my god. Is he behind?”
“No. Not behind.” He squeezes my hand again, stroking his thumb over my skin. “Just about the right age.”
I look out at the clouds floating over the lake. Think about all of the places I used to tell Chandler I wanted to go.
Look at this picture of the blue grotto in Capri. Isn’t that beautiful? We should go there.
We can’t afford a trip to Italy, Emma. And if you get knocked up right away, who’s gonna watch the kids? I’m not taking a kid to Europe. I hate people who bring kids on planes.
Oh, we can swim with dolphins in the Caribbean! And stingrays! We should take a cruise.
Cruises are nothing but floating germ boxes and you’d get seasick and puke.
Can you imagine being at the top of the Eiffel Tower?
It’s just a big tourist trap.
I’ve always wanted to see the Canadian Rockies.
You have our Rockies right there. That’s a dumb use of money to see the same thing you live with somewhere else.
And then I shed Chandler, but I took on another weight.
The weight of the world watching me.
Because I’d been dumb enough to choose Chandler.
But what if I wasn’t afraid?
What if I refused to let things hold me back?
What if I hadn’t gone to school to study accounting merely because I knew it would make me a solid, dependable living with minimal student debt? What if I’d gone to veterinarian school instead? Or art school?
Who would I be today?
Who could I be tomorrow if I’m brave?
My vision blurs and my sinuses burn.
“Emma?” Jonas says softly.
“If I could do anything in the world, right now, I’d kiss you.”
He holds my gaze for a long, thick, heavy moment before sweeping a glance around us.
I know what he’s looking for.
Who’s nearby? Who can see us? Is this safe?
Those beautiful brown eyes finish their study of everything around us and meet mine again. “If I could do anything in the world right now, I wouldn’t want to stop with you kissing me.”
My pulse is humming a tune I know so , so well. My vagina aches. My clit tingles. My nipples are pointing and my heart?—
My heart is bursting out of the rock wall I’ve hidden it behind since the disaster that was my wedding day, shedding the last of the pebbles and concrete that are still lodged around it, reminding me how much this could hurt.
“I wanted you to sleep in my bed last night,” I whisper.
“I want to sleep in your bed every night.”
“You scare me and make me believe there’s still good in the world at the same time.”
“You are the good in my world.”
“Jonas—”
I can’t finish. I don’t know what I want to say.
I just know that kissing him is necessary. It’s the only answer.
And I don’t care who’s watching. I don’t care who could see us.
I get to choose love .
I do.
And I don’t know what kind of love this is—friend love, lover love, forever love—but I know that what I feel for Jonas is some kind of love, and the only way—the only way I can say it is by kissing him.
So I lean in. Let my eyes drift closed while I stroke his rough cheek and touch my lips to his again.
A sigh shudders out of him while he grips my forearm, holding my arm in place, kissing me back.
Soft.
Gentle.
Slow.
A perfect picnic kiss under the trees while butterscotch wafts around us and our baby sleeps on the quilt next to me.
This .
This is the life I want.
The family I want.
He’s the missing pieces that put my soul at ease.
He comes with complications, with hard work, with mountains between our lives that we’ll have to climb, but he’s worth it.
This man.
This kind, gentle, sexy, eager, funny, patient, beautiful man.
I don’t know why he’d choose me .
But I’m done questioning my worth.
With him, I’m all in.
I can’t help myself.
And I don’t want to.