40. Chapter 40
Beau
Haverin’ (hay-vurh-in)
Translation: To talk foolishly or babble
Usage: To refer to someone who is blethering on and on and on and on
I’m about to start the car and drive to the airport when—
“Dammit!”
I forgot my passport.
I get out of the car and head back to my door.
My inability to focus since talking with Torin has been debilitating.
I barely heard a word in my final class sessions, and this is the third trip I’ve made back in for an item that hadn’t made it onto my packing list, items that should have been obvious.
Upstairs, I punch in the code, open the safe, grab my passport—and the watches I would’ve accidentally left behind for the summer.
I tuck everything under my arm, close the metal door, and turn the handle, making sure it’s secure before leaving again, locking up the house, and getting back in the car.
Everything goes into my carry-on. Then I lean back, eyes closed, taking a second, thinking what I might have forgotten. I can’t afford any more trips back in or I’ll be late for my flight. When nothing comes to mind, I lean forward to start the ignition.
Just as I hit the button there’s a loud bang.
“Fuck!” I yell and jump in my seat, adrenaline surging, wondering if something had blown up under the hood.
Then there’s a softer knock against the passenger window. Torin’s there, looking like he ran here. Hair mussed, sweat on his brow, jacket askew. None of which makes my heart beat any slower.
“Beau,” he shouts, voice muffled through the glass, “can we talk?”
I look ahead, unsure if I can do this right now.
He’d said enough last night. Enough to make it clear we could be civil, polite colleagues. Just two people who used to be something, now orbiting the same space. I figured that was it, that we could move on. Separately.
So why is he coming to me now, right as I’m getting ready to head back to Texas to lick my wounds? If he’s just trying to clear his conscience before I go home, then I’d rather leave now and make it to the airport on time, and put an ocean between me and him.
But if he’s here for something else…
I look over at him, and I’ve rarely seen his face look so earnest, so desperate. His lips move again. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I don’t need to. Please.
I scrub a hand down my face, then take a deep breath before getting slowly out of the car, pressing the door closed behind me.
I stay on the driver’s side and look at his relieved expression over the hood.
He ripped my heart out of my chest the last time we really talked, and the odds of him being here to try to get back together are astronomical, so while things are better than before, I need to keep my distance for now.
We stand in awkward silence, both of us with our hands in our pockets, but I refuse to speak first. If he wants to talk, he needs to buck up, and he needs to be more transparent than last night.
I’m not going to make this easy for him.
With no small amount of difficulty, I keep my eyes on Torin as his mouth moves, but no words come out.
I raise an eyebrow, my impatience rising to the surface.
“I’m sorry,” he says in a rush. He hasn’t gotten any better at apologies. If that’s all he’s got, I’m getting on a plane.
I turn back to my car door.
“No, wait!” he says and sticks out a trembling hand.
I huff out a sigh. “Torin, I’m late for my flight. If you want to apologize, you can unblock my number and call me when I get home.”
His shoulders drop, the fight draining out of him. “Please, Beau. This can’t wait. Just give me two minutes, then you can hate me forever if you like. Please.”
I sigh again. “Torin, I don’t hate you. The fact that you think I do is the reason I’d rather just go. You clearly don’t know me at all.”
“No, I do,” he says, leaning over the hood, reaching toward me. “I do know you.”
“Do you?” I ask, tilting my head, studying him.
“Aye.” He nods, chewing his bottom lip. “I’ve known you all along.”
A humorless laugh escapes me, and I shake my head.
“You’re Beau,” he says, “the sweet American who turned my life upside down. You walk into a room and turn a dull day into an adventure. You’re intelligent, witty, and kind.
You care about people—too much sometimes.
You were nice to me when others didn’t want to be, you charmed my entire family without even trying, you believed in me more than I believed in myself.
You liked me for me.” His mouth twitches. “And you have those goddamn dimples!”
My heart warms at his words, but I’m not ready to give in. I still don’t know what broke in the first place, how we got here.
“Liked?” I repeat, staring at him. “Torin, I loved you, alright? Not like. Love. I loved you.” Can’t believe how many times I’m saying it. “I did everything I could to get you to love me back, and do you remember what you did in return?”
His eyes widen. I answer before he can come to his senses.
“You yelled at me. You told me I was stupid, and you left.” My voice is trembling, the hurt washing over me again. “Then you blocked my number and acted like I wasn’t in the room any time you saw me.”
“I did, and I’m sorry.”
“Do you understand why I still don’t believe you know me?” I shout, my heart beating hard, eyes threatening tears. “Do you understand why saying you’re sorry isn’t good enough? You wouldn’t even tell me why you were upset!”
“I know,” he says quickly, “and that’s what I’m trying to explain! You’re not stupid. I’m the one who behaved like an eejit. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I did about you.” He pauses, then quieter, “The way I do feel about you.”
“Then why?” I say, holding my ground. “Why did you push me away? Why did you leave? If you care so much about me, why did you do it? Why?”
We’re making a scene now, passersby eyeing us warily, but I can’t keep my voice down. “If you can’t explain this to me, then you can’t possibly expect me to trust you again.” I pause, my breathing heavy. “Tell me why you left, or I—”
“Because I was terrified!” he shouts, the words ripping out of him.
“Of what, Torin?” I fire back. “Of what?”
“Of you leaving!”
“So you decided to leave instead?” I ask, my pitch dangerously high.
He flinches, a broken sound leaving him as he wipes at his eyes, and despite all that’s happened, I want to go to him, comfort him.
I almost move. But this matters. We have to do this right or not at all. Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it.
“Torin,” I say, voice soft, “tell me why you were so scared that you had to leave.”
He takes a breath and then, it’s like a dam breaks and the words come pouring out.
“Because I was afraid it was going to happen again, that you would leave me like James did. You were so kind to me, so patient, so caring, and I didn’t trust it.
As soon as I saw something that made me doubt you, I rushed out the door, ignoring your feelings on the way.
I didn’t ask. I didn’t listen. I just—” He lets out a shuddering breath, shoulders slumping.
“I pushed you away to get it over with before I could fall any harder for you. Because I always focus on the trauma of the past. Because I don’t think I deserve the wonderful things right in front of me. ”
His lips tremble as the tears come fast, and I cave. I rush around the car to him, fishing my handkerchief from my pocket and pressing it into his hand. He takes it, covers his face, shoulders shaking. I wrap my arms around him and pull him to me, holding him tight, and he folds into me.
I don’t say anything, just rub a hand up and down his back while he sobs.
The world keeps moving around us, footsteps, voices, a car passing somewhere behind me, but I barely notice.
I just hold him, still hesitant and confused, but so happy to have him in my arms again.
I kiss the top of his head and close my eyes, hoping this is the start of a new beginning, one where we can communicate our thoughts and feelings, one where we trust each other and work together to find solutions to our problems.
“I’m sorry,” Torin whispers as his tears begin to subside.
“I’m sorry, too,” I say.
He pulls back, his face a mask of confusion. “For what?”
“For the things I said to you. I woke up so happy that morning, happier than I’ve ever been, then you crushed me. I could feel you slipping away, and I lashed out in an attempt to protect myself. I didn’t mean any of it.”
“I know,” he says. “I would’ve done the same. I never should’ve left like that, but I saw your old thesis proposal about Highland culture, and all the notes you’d recently taken, and I thought—”
“What?” I ask, my heart thumping.
“But then I talked to Professor Moreau,” he rushes to say, “and she told me you believed no one could do that research better than I could. That you gave up the topic but stayed interested so you could talk to me about it.”
I take all of that in, mind reeling, torn between being upset that he hadn’t trusted me, and clarifying one more time that I would never hurt him intentionally.
“Beau?” he says when I don’t respond, the look of hope draining from his face.
“Torin,” I say, making the decision I knew I would all along, gripping his shoulders and staring him down, “I would never do what James did to you. He was a total rocket.”
He laughs and sniffs, dabbing his nose with my handkerchief. “You’re starting to sound like a Scotsman,” he says. “And yes, he was. Pure rocket.”
“He must’ve been,” I say, my hands moving down to squeeze his waist, “if he left you.”
“No, I know he and I weren’t meant for each other.” He sniffs a bit more, then meets my eyes. “But I didn’t fully comprehend that till I met you.”
“Aye?” I ask.
“Aye,” he says, and I smile.
Silence settles between us, but it’s different now. Full instead of empty.
“Look, Beau.” He hesitates, hands hovering like he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch me. “I know you have no reason to trust me after everything I did, much less like me, much less…” He falters. “Love me.”
“Torin, I—”
“But I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you,” he says, his teary eyes darting everywhere but at my face.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you; it was that I didn’t trust myself.
Not after—” He shakes his head, pushes through whatever is making him hold back, then looks directly at me.
“I’ve missed you. Every day since I left, I’ve missed you.
” His voice wavers, but he keeps going. “I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m asking for one; I’ll beg if I have to.
I meant what I said. I always focus on the negative, live in the worst moments of the past, and miss the beauty in the present.
But I want to change, prioritize the good things.
” He looks directly at me now. “And that’s you.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
You checked off every item on The List and added more.
I want to be with you, Beau. We can start over—from the very beginning—if that’s what you need. And I know that—”
I put a finger to his lips.
“Torin,” I say, and make sure he’s looking at me. “Stop haverin’. And kiss me already.”
It takes him a second, like he doesn’t quite believe me, then a smile spreads across his face.
He’s still hesitant as he leans toward me, so I meet him halfway.
Our mouths crash together, my hands fist the back of his shirt as I pull him in.
His hands loop around the back of my neck, holding me close.
Relief washes over me first, then heat. I didn’t think we’d ever do this again, and I can’t get enough of his mouth on mine, our bodies pressed close.
“Wait, wait,” he says, pulling back. I don’t let him get far.
“What?”
“You said you loved me…” His eyes search mine, still uncertain.
I nod. “Yeah. So?”
He looks at my chest and asks, quieter, “So… do you still? Love me?”
I guide his chin up and kiss him again, slower this time, deliberate. “Of course I do.”
“Even after all the things I said? Everything I did?”
“Yes, Torin.” Another kiss, softer. “I love you.”
His eyes fill. “I love you, too,” he whispers.
Then he kisses me and this time, he doesn’t hold back. Just want and need and relief. Just the two of us. Me and Torin.
When we finally come back down from our emotional high, he breaks the kiss and, panting, says, “I know we still have a lot to talk about, so call me when you get back to Texas, and we can figure everything out.”
“Torin,” I say, stealing another kiss, “I’m not going back to Texas today. Probably not tomorrow, either.”
“You’re staying in Scotland for the summer?” he asks, brow furrowed. “Just like that?”
“No, I’m still going to Texas, but you’re coming with me…” I say, “if you’re willing.”
“Really?” he asks, blinking. “Why?”
“Because my family needs to meet my boyfriend.” His eyes go wide, and I put my lips to his again.
“Because I love you,” I say.
Kiss.
“And I want to spend the summer with you.”
Kiss.
“And next year with you.”
Kiss.
“And all the years that follow.”
Kiss.
“As long as you’ll have me.”