Chapter 28
LOW-TO-HIGH: PASSING FROM BELOW THE GOAL LINE UP TO THE POINT
My dates with Brennan don’t feel like dates the way I remember with him. They’re quieter. Less hectic. A lot of that likely has to do with us having been at college parties. But more, I think it’s just who we are now.
We. Such a simple word but has so many complex layers. It should scare me more than it does, but it’s what he and I are.
We’re building something and not just when it’s convenient.
I’m grading papers at my kitchen table when I recall our first date after the kiss in my classroom. It started with a text string where we debated logistics.
King of My Broken Heart :
Want to meet for dinner?
Me:
What time?
Seconds later, my phone rings. A shiver runs down my spine at the sound of his Irish lilt wrapping around my name. Before I can speak, he rasps, “Hello, my queen.”
“Hi there.”
I hear papers shuffling before he lets out an expletive. “I forgot I have a neurology video call scheduled at five.”
“With your specialist from Connecticut?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s…interesting.”
“Oh?”
Brennan chuckles. “He can dismantle my ego in five seconds flat.”
“Sounds like my kind of guy.”
Brennan snorts. “When you eventually meet him, you can tell me your impression then.”
When you eventually meet him. Brennan’s words make my toes curl. “So, dinner’s not happening before six?”
“Six might be early. Who knows? They may decide my ego needs to be researched for scientific discovery.”
I laugh. “I’m fairly certain that’s not how neurology works.”
“You’d be surprised,” he said. “There’s always a tablet and he reeks of judgement.”
“Over a video call?”
“I think that might amplify it.”
“So, do you want to say six-thirty or seven?” I offer.
“That gives me time to pretend I understand everything they tell me before I share it with you.”
“Does ego bashing make you hungry or thirsty?” I tease.
“Both. How about a movie?”
“Extra buttered popcorn and chocolate for dinner? Count me in.”
He pauses a moment before declaring with satisfaction, “Chainsaw Prom: A Love Story is playing at the movie theater.”
I laugh from the depths of my soul. “God, you always have had a thing for outlandish horror.”
“I have a thing for holding onto you when you're surprised by a jump scare.”
My heart warms. “Did we decide on a time?”
“Let’s make it six-thirty. I wouldn’t want to keep you out too late on a school night.”
“I reserve the right for ice cream if this movie is complete crap,” I warn him.
“Oh, it will be an atrocity.”
“I’m in.”
“I’ll pick you up at six-thirty?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“You’re what’s perfect,” he murmurs before saying goodbye.
Holding Brennan’s hand the whole time was my anchor. The movie relied almost entirely on cheap jump scares and bloody prom clothes—every knife slice followed by a pastel gown sliced by an up and coming designer who wanted to make a name for himself.
As we leave the theater and make our way to the ice cream parlor, I declare, “I spent more time mourning the dresses than horrified.”
He grumbles, “It wasn’t what it was hyped up to be.”
Raising on my toes, I press a kiss to his cheek before patting his arm patronizingly. “You’ll be okay.”
He whirls me around until my back is braced against the light post. He then points to his lips. “How about kissing me to make me feel better?”
“You’re…”
“Adorable? Charming?”
“Incorrigible.” Still, I lean forward and brush my lips against his.
He grins.“But efficient.”
I beckon him closer. “Absolutely.”
His breathing picks up. That’s when I tilt my head to brush my lips against the outer shell of his ear and whisper, “Ice cream. Chocolate with sprinkles. You owe me for sitting through that crap.”
Brennan’s head falls back as he howls with laughter.
We started with coffee. Moved on to meals. Movies. Bowling. And with every date, I’m falling for him all over again. I tap my pencil to my lips before admitting, “I feel safe with him.”
That’s because Brennan takes care of making me feel that way.
I pull up our text string and reread it.
King of My Broken Heart :
Trust me
Me:
I do. Just not with trying out goat yoga.
You want me to lie there while they poop on my back?
King of My Broken Heart :
Wait, they don’t have diapers on?
With deliberation, I go in and edit Brennan’s contact in my phone before grinning over the end of that text.
King of My Heart :
Yeah, let me look into something different.
There’s a risk in opening myself up like this with Brennan. One I never faced the first time around. Part of me was still bracing for worst case scenarios, that is until earlier tonight when we went out.
I’m startled when he casually informs me, “Mark texted again.”
“He did? What did he have to say this time?”
“Read for yourself.” Brennan hands me his phone.
Mark:
Don’t cut me out, man.
I’ve stuck by your side through everything.
Please…call me.
I lift my head to find Brennan’s blue eyes locked on me. His lips are quirked to the side before he informs me, “I don’t need anyone but you.”
But it’s not the big gestures that are getting to me. It’s the small ones. The quiet admissions. The way we’re peeling back the years and talking honestly about who we were then—and who we became after. Even the parts that sting to say out loud.
Especially the truth that we both built our lives assuming we’d never find our way back to each other.
Despite the ache from time lost, the steady building blocks we’re laying as our foundation give me a quiet certainty that this—us—is worth it. And somehow, that feels stronger than anything we had the first time around.
I’m startled when I realize I’m no longer waiting for hurt. I’m just living for every moment of happiness.
But it really sinks how far we’ve come when I dash into the grocery store that night and hear my name being called. “Amy?”
I turn and find Grayson grinning. “Hey. How have you been?”
“Good, though not as good as you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You look…different. Happier.” Before I can process that, he adds casually, “I ran into Brennan the other day at The Honeyed Hearth.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Are you two together?”
I nod definitively. “We are.”
His smile is genuine. “I’m happy for you. You deserve this.”
After he walks away, I stand there longer than necessary, a box of pasta clutched to my chest. The drive home is quiet as the truth settles deep in my bones.
I forgave Brennan. I’ve already committed to him.
Now it’s time to see what’s next.