29. FALLING TWICE #2
“I’ve wished for the same thing all my life.” He shrugs. “It hasn’t come true yet. Maybe it never will—so it won’t hurt to tell you.”
I nod slowly, urging him to continue. I expect him to tell me something silly. Something that will make me laugh. What he actually says leaves me speechless.
“I always wish to meet the love of my life,” Kenneth tells me quietly. “More than anything, I just want to be loved. I want to be someone’s first choice. For once.”
I grab his hand with the pennies and close his fist around them, then wrap my hand over it.
I want to shake him. Tell him I’m right here.
That I love him. That he’s my first choice and always will be.
Instead, I say, “How about you use both pennies this time?” His eyes widen as they connect with mine.
“It’ll give you a better chance of your wish coming true, don’t you think? ”
“Uh—” His exhale is shaky. “What about you, though?”
“I’ll wish for the same thing.” I shrug.
“That way it’s even. I guess we’ll have to stay in touch, and you can tell me if your wish came true.
” I don’t mention I’ll tell him if mine came true—because it already did.
In another timeline. Another life. Another reality that’s not mine anymore.
Maybe it never will be again. That hurts more than I want to admit, but what was I expecting?
Can a person really fall in love with you twice?
When there are so many other options out there?
How impossible is it? What are the actual chances?
Ken smiles. “I think that’s a great idea.
” He grabs my arm and makes me stand beside him, then holds both pennies between his thumb and forefinger.
We’re directly in front of the fountain now, and he looks at me.
“How about you grab my wrist and wrap your hand around it? Then you lift my arm, and I’ll throw the pennies? ”
“Sure, Kenny,” I tell him with a smile of my own, and his eyes widen. “Why don’t you count down?”
He nods. “Alright.” I take a deep breath as he closes his eyes, but I can’t do it.
Instead, I look at him, at the way his blond hair shines lighter under the glow of the golden hour, his nose scrunched as he thinks or talks to himself in his mind.
But mine is clear for the first time in a long time—no anxiety, no white noise, just silence.
Blessed fucking silence when it’s been loud ever since I woke up in that goddamn hospital room.
Ever since my life was completely ruined.
By chance. By fate. By the cruelest joke that’s ever been played on me. “Make a wish.”
His whisper caresses my skin, and I watch as a little smile makes his lips twitch.
The dimple at the corner of his mouth plays peek-a-boo, the one on the apple of his cheek doing the same.
I lose my breath entirely, but I don’t wish for anything.
I already have everything I want right next to me. I only hope I can hold on to him.
“One, two, three,” he counts, giving me my cue, and I lift his arm. He throws the pennies behind us, and they make a little splash as they hit the water. We turn around quickly and watch them sink to the bottom. “Perfect,” he breathes.
“You are,” I tell him, shifting my eyes to his face.
I take in his perfect profile, his little upturned nose, his full lips, the deep Cupid’s bow.
Golden eyelashes fanning over sharp cheekbones.
Sharp jaw. Slender throat. Eyes the color of the ocean on a sunny day.
I wonder if he sees how I look at him. If he sees the yearning, the longing, in my gaze.
Can he tell how badly I want him? Does he know I’d give anything to have him back in my arms, my life?
Kenneth turns around with a smile, then reaches for my face and brushes his thumb over my cheekbone. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me softly, and I feel my face flushing at his compliment. “And you’re blushing.”
My heart beats faster as I give him a shaky smile, and I can hear it pounding in my ears.
Can he hear it too? How loudly it beats for him?
He caresses my cheek with his knuckles, then traces the angle of my jaw with soft fingertips.
I shiver at the touch, and his smile widens, making his eyes sparkle, somehow causing them to look even bluer.
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,” I say, my voice shaking. “I want to know something no one else knows.”
Ken stares at me for a beat, then another. “I guess I’m a romantic,” he breathes, then looks away and drops his hand. I take his chin between my thumb and forefinger and make him face me again. His eyes are wide, and he’s blinking quickly. As if he’s on the verge of tears.
“How so?” I ask him gently.
“Sometimes—” He takes a deep breath and tries again. “Sometimes I dream of this alternate life. Someone loves me there, but I can never see his face. But it feels so real, Conrad. Sometimes it makes me feel crazy.”
I gulp, my body heating. My fingers tighten on his chin. “Maybe it was.”
“Real?” Kenneth frowns. “No. I’d know if it was.”
“Maybe it’s from another life,” I push. “Do you believe in past lives, Kenny?”
He smirks. “I like that nickname.” I blush, embarrassed at calling him that. As if I know him. I do. “I guess I could get on board with a past life. But what about it?”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.” I shake my head, dropping my hand from his face. He grabs my wrist and puts my hand on his jaw. I grip him firmly, taking a step closer to him. “But I guess I’m also a romantic.”
“Try me.”
“I believe in fate,” I start. “Soulmates. I believe there’s one person who’s meant entirely for me, and no matter the timeline, I’ll find him again and again.”
Kenneth seems to ponder that. “I like that.”
“It’s silly…”
“No, it’s not,” he says quickly, grabbing my wrist and squeezing it, making my fingers tighten reflexively on his jaw.
It makes me want to kiss him. Say fuck it and close the gap between us.
Instead, I look into his eyes and bite my bottom lip.
He looks at it for a long moment, then at my eyes again.
“But you are right, Connie.” I gasp at the nickname he called me in a past life, our past life, and he grins. “You are a romantic.”
“Told you,” I say with a low chuckle, but it’s strained. I feel like someone has spun me in circles for hours. Lightheaded.
“I like it,” Kenneth smiles softly. “We have that in common now.”
Does he wonder if we have more in common? Does he want to find out? Does he want this? Me? Us?
I switch my grip on him to the back of his neck and pull him closer, then press my lips to his cheek.
His skin is soft, freshly shaved, and I inhale deeply to get the smell of his aftershave deep into my lungs.
My eyes sting, but I fight back the tears, refusing to let them fall, and let go of him.
Instead of letting me step back, he grabs my hand again and smiles. It’s bright and happy, and so him.
It makes me feel whole again.