Remembering You (The Saxville Sweethearts #1)

Prologue

In two weeks, Jude, the love of my life, will be gone.

I have no idea how we’re supposed to make this work.

Tonight, I’m hanging out with him to figure out this long-distance relationship.

We’ve dated for the past two years, and we’re rarely apart.

Anytime we aren’t in school, working, or playing sports, we’re together.

We spent all of our time together over the summer, too.

A year-long separation will be difficult, but I’m hoping we can make it work.

I want to look good for him, so I slip on a flirty summer dress. It’s light blue, and the material hangs down just enough to cover my ass. A devious smirk spreads across my face, but it fades as I remember this will be one of our last nights together before he leaves.

My matching flip-flops are by the door. I slide them on and pause for a moment before grabbing my keys off the hook.

Reflecting on our good times, I realize how much I’ll miss him.

My chest is tight, and it’s hard to breathe.

I want to stay in the moment, but it’s hard.

When I think about the amazing memories, I smile.

We can make a few more before he leaves.

“Where are you going?” my mom yells from the kitchen.

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Going to Jude’s. I’ll be back later.”

I drive toward his house in a daze, trapped in more memories. Finally, I ease into Jude’s driveway, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel before I finally cut the engine. With a deep breath, I step out, the warm air wrapping around my body as if it’s trying to comfort me.

The knot in my stomach grows tighter when I approach the door. I do a quick courtesy knock and step into the house. His familiar scent invades my nostrils, and tears well up in my eyes.

You’ve got this.

One foot in front of the other, I trudge to the kitchen where Jude leans against the island in all his glory. His light brown hair flops to the side, and his arms are outstretched, causing his biceps to flex. Those muscles have me rushing over to glide my hands up and down his arms.

“Looking good tonight,” I say, licking my lips to tease him.

He wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss on my temple. “You are, too.”

“What’s for dinner?” There are only a few dishes he can cook fairly well.

“The fridge has all the ingredients to make a stir-fry,” he says.

“I’m not that hungry.”

“You’re always hungry. Are you feeling ok?” he asks, his brows creasing.

No, I’m not ok. Our world is about to drastically shift.

With his arms still around me, he gives me a loving squeeze and my worries vanish; he’s all I want. I inhale his familiar musky cologne, sinking further into him. My hand slides up his muscular chest to his heart, and it reminds me to soak up the love we have for each other.

“I love you,” I say, gripping his shirt and pulling him closer.

He distances himself slightly, cups my face, and our eyes meet.

“I love you so much.”

He presses his lips to mine, and my lips part on instinct. The kiss grows harder and more intense. The next thing I know, Jude grabs my hand and leads me to his bedroom.

He undresses me and glides his hands over my body. One thing leads to another, and we end up breathless, lying together in his bed. My head is on his chest as he runs his fingers through my hair and down my back.

“Are you ready for some dinner now?” he asks, clearly unable to keep his hands off my body as he continues to run his fingers along my skin.

“Maybe in a few minutes.”

“Ok.” He reaches down to my finger and plays with the Claddagh ring he gave me almost two years ago.

I lift my head to look at him and say, “I’m going to miss you.”

The knot in my stomach has mostly subsided, but a slight twinge reminds me it’s still there.

My stomach growls, and laughter sounds from both of us.

“Guess it’s time to cook dinner,” Jude says.

I swallow—hard. He is my safe space, my comfort, and I don’t want to move. With a sigh, I reach for my clothes, slipping on my dress while he rakes a hand through his messy hair. Neither of us speak as we move toward the kitchen, our footsteps quiet against the wooden floor.

My mind races. Tension lingers in the air, mingling with silence, as Jude cooks.

We usually talk about our day, but not tonight.

Something feels off about him, but I can’t pinpoint what it is.

The cross-country move is probably weighing on him.

We need to figure out how to make this long-distance relationship work… We’re just avoiding talking about it.

I wish we could just go together. Life seems cruel—separating us—although I know I’m lucky, too. I have a full ride to my top-choice college, so upending my dreams isn’t the answer either.

I know our love is strong, and we can find a way.

It’s only for a year, but there’s still a suffocating doubt in the air.

My heart sinks as I think about Jude so far away, not being able to hold him, nestle my face in his chest, or kiss him whenever I want.

It doesn’t take much thinking for me to slump in the chair.

Ugh, this is awful.

I cross my arms over my chest as a chill rolls through me.

My mouth waters when I get a whiff of teriyaki sauce and rice, and I lift my eyes to glance at Jude. He’s scooping the stir-fry into bowls, then he swipes the chopsticks off the counter and sets our bowls down.

“Is everything ok?” I ask.

With hesitation, he says, “This may feel like it’s coming out of nowhere, but I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few days.” He pauses and draws in a deep breath. “I’m not sure a long-distance relationship makes sense for us.”

Nausea rises in my throat as my world spins. He doesn’t want to move forward with our relationship? Well, that explains the distance I’m feeling.

Where did this come from?

It’s like I’ve been slapped, and for a moment, I’m stunned speechless as I stare into his amber eyes.

“Jude, what are you saying? You want to break up?” I ask, as a lone tear rolls down my cheek.

This can’t be happening; it’s my worst nightmare.

He wants to break up, move on, and never look back.

Jude and I have something special. We’re in sync about things that matter to both of us.

I’m ready to make a long-distance relationship work, no matter what it takes.

But I can’t do it for both of us; he has to be on board, too. Why is he second-guessing things now?

“Is this what you want?” I ask, touching his forearm, silently begging him to feel our connection.

“I think it will be stressful. We’re going to be thousands of miles away from each other, and it will be a lot of pressure. I won’t have a lot of downtime to stay in touch. It doesn’t seem fair to you.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “I know, and that’s why we agreed that, yes, it’ll be difficult, but why not try? You’re ripping the rug out from under me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just feel like this is what I have to do. For both of us.”

He’s rigid in his seat. I know him. He isn’t budging on this. For the life of me, I don’t know why he changed his mind.

“That’s it, no discussion? We just do what you want?”

I take off the ring. Those promises he made clearly don’t mean anything. I try to hold in my emotions as I set it down with a trembling hand.

“No, Faith. Please keep it,” he begs, trying to console me.

I shrug off his arm. “Don’t touch me. You’ve lost that right.”

My feet instinctively lead me to the door, and I glance back at him to say, “Jude, there are no more promises to keep.”

I stomp straight to my car, fling open the car door, and throw myself in the seat. My tears fall uncontrollably, but I need to get away from him. I can’t just sit in his driveway. As I leave, I notice him standing in his doorway. The sight of him makes me cry even harder.

How could he, after all this time, not even fight for us? He didn’t even give us a chance.

Once I get home, I slam the car into park and run inside to my room.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t make me feel any better, because this room is a shrine for our relationship.

I have pictures everywhere—some are in frames, others are on a corkboard with a thumbtack.

I scan my sacred space, and I see all the gifts he’s given to me.

Not to mention all the dried flowers from dances we’ve gone to, concert tickets, stuffed animals…

These last two years have revolved around us.

My mom knocks on my door and says, “Everything ok?”

I don’t want to get into it with her. She’s no help.

“I’m just upset. I’ll be fine.” Not opening the door, I say, “I’ll call Emily, and then I’m going to sleep.”

“Ok, I’m heading to bed shortly. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I get on the phone with my best friend, Emily. The need to rant to someone is overwhelming. Thankfully, she picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“You’re never going to believe what happened tonight!” I start to cry but keep it together long enough to give her the quick version of the breakup.

“Oh my god! Do you want me to come over?”

“No, not tonight. I think I just needed to tell someone, and now I’m going to cry myself to sleep.

Can we get together tomorrow before you leave for North Carolina?

I need some extra time with my bestie before she leaves, and I don’t want it all to be about Jude.

But…tomorrow I’ll need to continue to vent and cry. ”

“I got you. Call me in the morning, and we’ll figure it all out.”

This whole situation makes me angry. I want to punch something.

Instead, I furiously gather photos and anything else within reach, dumping it all in my desk trash can.

It’s too small to fit everything, so I throw the rest on the floor, and it all comes crashing down on me.

I can’t stand anymore, so I fall on the bed and sob—unable to stop even though my head is pounding.

A range of emotions hit me—I’m confused, hurt, angry, and overwhelmed. I’ve been left to pick up all the shattered pieces of my heart, scattered across the floor, while it aches from all the what-ifs.

Will I ever feel whole again? Jude still has a piece of my broken heart.

And I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back.