24. Jude
Jude
I close the door behind me, leaning against it.
For a moment, I stare at nothing, trying hard to breathe as everything crashes into place.
The stomach-dropping sensation I just experienced in the lobby.
The restlessness that kept me up last night.
How my chest tightens each time Taylor mentions San Francisco. They all make sense now.
It’s not the extra help I’m so concerned about losing.
It’s him.
A rough laugh escapes me. “Fuck.” I drag all ten fingers down my face. At thirty-six years old, I’m having butterflies in my goddamn stomach.
I’m having feelings for Taylor.
The realization should send me running, but I don’t.
I can’t. I’m too exhausted. Not only because I hardly slept a wink last night but also because, for once, going for a run did nothing for me.
Constantly chasing that high is starting to drain my energy.
I want a permanent change. I need something—someone—who will always make me feel good.
A month ago, thoughts like these would never have crossed my mind. Now, all I can think of is the effect Taylor has had on me. I’m thinking of the silence when he leaves. The longing that will follow. It will be unbearable.
Because I’m already struggling with the thought of letting him go.
Easing away from the door, I pace the room.
My heart thumps violently against my ribs.
It’s not from panic, but a clear certainty.
For the first time in my life, I don’t want distance, or casual, or an escape route to nowhere.
I want him. I want to tell him how I feel.
I want to hold his hand when he finally accepts himself.
Mornings, nights, and arguments. Holidays.
Milestones. Call me selfish, but I want them all.
I stop beside the window. Outside, the mountains stretch endlessly beneath the evening sky. I spent years being content with living here, but now, I’m not so certain it will be the same if he leaves.
If he leaves.
The thought triggers a harsh chuckle. Of course, he’s going to leave. The Silver Sage Retreat was always temporary for Taylor, a convenient escape. In two months, things will return to normal. He’s going to pack his things and head back to the cushy life that I could never offer him.
You could offer him love.
Another harsh chuckle. Love. That four-letter word has no place in my vocabulary after all I’ve done with my life. I’m not worthy of being loved.
But then Roman’s words come right back at me.
Maybe I’m not worthy, but I could change that. I could mend my broken self. And yes, I am broken. If I weren’t, then I wouldn’t believe that Taylor is too good for me.
A strange calm settles on my shoulders. I don’t know how Taylor feels. I’m not sure if I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life by opening myself to him.
But I know one thing.
I’m going to do everything in my power to make him stay.