Track 21 #2
I grabbed it with trembling fingers, blinking back the sting in my eyes as I read the title—The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks.
Somewhere between confusion and feeling impossibly loved, I flipped through the pages.
Tiny stars dotted the margins, marking passages I knew by heart.
I skimmed a few of them, my chest tightening as I recognized every scene, including my favorite ones.
When we watched the movie all that time ago, I’d kept interrupting it, pointing out which moments were better in the book, even though the film itself was perfect.
I never imagined he’d listened closely enough to remember, let alone care enough to find those scenes in the actual book to see how the words I loved had been written.
I swallowed hard, setting it aside like it was something fragile. The lump in my throat made it difficult to breathe. All of that attention, all of that quiet effort—it undid me. It was such a small thing, and yet, it felt enormous. Beautiful.
Too beautiful to be meant for someone like me.
I refocused on the two piles, putting all my attention on aligning them into perfect stacks.
That’s when I noticed Professor Stanley’s handwriting across the front of the front of an envelope in Jake’s pile. Just three words were across it: Letter of Recommendation. Behind it, there was a plane ticket. To Seattle, Washington.
I opened the envelope.
To Michael Stratton, CEO of Stratford Financial
and Alysia Howard, CFO of Stratford Financial
It is with the utmost confidence that I recommend my student and personal advisee, Jake Cooper, for the position of junior financial processor, Northwest Division, at Stratford Financial, Seattle.
I understand he was part of the entry-level internship last spring and was unable to complete the program due to unforeseen circumstances. However, I, as well as many others, can confirm this event was entirely situational and would encourage your institution not to hold it against him.
Throughout my time working with Mr. Cooper, I have had the privilege of witnessing his tenacity, resilience in the face of hardship, and unwavering dedication to his work.
He consistently demonstrates an exceptional work ethic and a genuine passion, not only for his own assignments, but also for supporting the success of his peers.
Mr. Cooper exemplifies the qualities of a model student, professional and respectful in nature. It has been an honor to work with him, and I am confident he will bring the same level of commitment, integrity, and excellence to Stratford Financial as he has in his academic career.
Regards,
Prof. Richard M. Stanley
My hand trembled, the letter nearly crumpling in my hand. My heart began to beat rapidly in my chest, the words on repeat in my head.
“Hey, you ready?” Jake asked as he emerged from his room, an army green backpack hiked on one shoulder.
I stood from my seat on the couch, the letter and plane ticket still gripped in my fingertips. His eyes dropped to my hand, then flicked back up to me.
“Stanley gave you a letter of recommendation? For Stratford?” My tone was more accusatory than intended. I wanted to sound excited. A part of me was, but a bigger part—the selfish one—was scared shitless. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jake stood there, apology and regret mixed with something else—reluctance, maybe—painting his eyes.
“There’s nothing to tell.” He looked down at his shoes before his eyes found mine again, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Nothing to tell? This is a plane ticket to Seattle that’s leaving in four days, Jake.”
He bit the side of his cheek, seemingly unsure whether to respond or let me go off the way I clearly intended to.
“This is a big deal. Stratford is a big deal. Like huge.” I looked at the paper, reading the words as they were printed.
“Junior financial processor of the Northwest Division is a huge fucking deal, Jake.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “I didn’t buy that ticket. Brian did.” He palmed the back of his neck. “He helped with the offer, too. It wasn’t all me.”
Shock tangled with sorrow in my chest for this perfect man who still couldn’t see his own greatness.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “Have you even read this letter?” I held the paper out to him.
He hesitated, gaze drifting away before he answered, firm and quiet. “No.”
My stomach dropped. “Why not?”
The silence pressed in, and frustration began to churn beneath the ache in my heart. I stood, moving around the couch until I was directly in front of him. “Why haven’t you read it, Jake?”
He just looked at me, and that’s when it hit me.
He had already decided.
“Don’t tell me you’re throwing this away,” I said, my voice sharpening.
“Don’t tell me that after giving up a once-in-a-lifetime internship, after retaking a class you’d already completed, you’re about to walk away from your second chance.
People don’t usually get one of those, Jake, but you got two. ” I swallowed. “Don’t give this up.”
A strained silence settled between us. My heart thudded in my ears, panic clawing through me at the thought of him throwing his life away.
“I am,” he said firmly, like there was no other answer worth considering.
My jaw dropped. “You can’t.” I shook my head. “No, you haven’t thought this through.”
“I have—”
“Have you, though?” I cut in. “Have you even considered that there might not be another chance? Another opportunity like this?” My voice cracked with urgency. “This is everything. You have to do this.”
His lips pressed together, frustration flickering across his face at my refusal to accept what he’d already decided. I didn’t care. He was wrong, and I needed him to see it.
“You are taking this job, Jake.”
“I don’t want it,” he said, tone firm and gaze locked on mine. “I don’t care about any of it. The letter. The job.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s just a job, Alana.”
“It’s not just a job,” I shot back. “It’s a career.”
He drew in a slow breath. “There are things that matter more.”
“Like what?” I demanded, my blood boiling in my veins. I was angry, frustrated, unable to understand how blind he suddenly seemed.
He paused for a heartbeat. His eyes filled with a certainty that stunned me.
“You,” he said simply, and my erratically flustered heart grew still.
My chest tightened, ribs pressing in on my lungs as my eyes began to sting. “No,” I whispered. “This is about you. About what you’ve worked for. Your future—”
“You’re my future.” He stepped closer, closing the space between us. “You. Not a job. Not a career. Just you.” His voice didn’t waver. “Everything I ever wanted—or thought I wanted—pales in comparison. You are the dream. You’re my future, Alana. You, me, us. That’s all that matters to me now.”
My throat constricted as tears burned behind my eyes. I was undone by words I’d never heard, never dared to imagine being spoken to me. And I loved him for them. I loved him with everything I had in me. But I had promised myself I’d love him more…
“No, Jake.” I pressed the paper back into his chest, tears spilling now. “This matters. This is…” My voice faltered, lost beneath the tangle of emotions crashing through me.
My heart was full with a feeling I only ever imagined could be real. A part of me wanted to keep him, and the promise in his words, tucked safely inside my soul where he had already carved out a home.
But I knew that a love like this was never meant for me. And no matter how selfish I wanted to be, how badly I wanted to keep the love that had somehow found its way to me, he deserved more than what I could give him.
He deserved someone who would choose him without hesitation.
And that was one thing I could never be for him.
I couldn't choose him.
Because I still had to return to a world he could never have a place in.
I closed my eyes and memorized the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm. I stitched the warmth of him into my mind and tucked it away for safekeeping. Then I took a deep, sobering breath and did what needed to be done.
“I’m not letting you give this up,” I said.
His hand closed around my wrist, holding it to his chest. “I’m not giving up anything. I know what I’m doing.”
“No, you don’t!” I shoved at his chest. “You’re talking about giving up an entire future—an entire life—and for what? A couple of months together? You think that’s worth it?” My voice cracked. “You think I’m worth it?”
“Yes, Alana.” His words came through clenched teeth as his grip tightened, both of my wrists now caught in his hands. “I think you’re worth it. I know you’re worth it. If anything in this world has ever been worth it, it’s you.”
He kissed me firmly, passionately. My entire body set on fire, and I kissed him back.
I broke away from him with a sob. “Jake—”
“I know it, Alana,” he said, his forehead pressed to mine. “I know it the same way I know there are stars beyond the clouds, the same way I know the moon will always rise. I just know.”
My throat ran dry at the memory of strangers in an alley, sharing a moment that held far more than either of us understood. A beginning that had somehow already found its end.
“Ask me to stay,” he whispered, his lips barely an inch from mine.
My stomach sank as I closed my tear-filled eyes, drifting into the dream of another life—one where I could tell him he didn’t have to stay because I could go with him.
Where we’d pack barely anything at all as we geared up to start our life together in a new city.
One where our weekends were spent curled up in bed, hiding from the rain he hated so much.
And every year, our Christmas tree would shimmer and our dog would hop onto our laps, and we’d never, ever wonder about the what-ifs because we’d already have everything we needed.