Page 32 of That Kiss

“I’m not saying I need an answer right now, Decker. I just want a second chance—to prove to you that I’m ready.”

I slide my hands from hers slowly, guilt clutching my chest when an image of Juniper laughing in my arms only a few hours ago flashes across my brain.

“What changed?” I stand up and walk toward the mantle, resting my hand on it. “Between when I proposed to you a few months ago and now, what changed so much that would make you uproot your life so quickly and easily?”

Her smile falters again and she stands up. “Nothing specifically, if that’s what you’re asking. No moment I could pinpoint . . . but it’s been weighing on me.” She reaches out her hand and presses it gently against my back. “I’ve missed you.”

“You never reached out.”

“I—I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” I know I sound cold, but maybe that’s because I am. I gave Camilla my heart—I didn’t hold part of it back for Juniper or anyone. I was vulnerable with her. I loved her and she never even wanted to consider giving us a chance here.

“I was afraid that you hated me or didn’t want to hear from me. You never reached out either.”

“Because you rejected me, Cami. You didn’t even give me a chance,” I snap, my tone startling her. “I’m sorry . . . sorry.” I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut as I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“It’s okay, I deserve it.” I turn to tell her otherwise, but she holds out her hand to stop me. “Just let me say a few things.” She takes in a shaky breath. “And I’m not saying this to get pity—I mean it. You’re right, I didn’t even give us a chance; I ran at the first sign of an obstacle. I know it seems like I didn’t love you as much, or maybe I didn’t love you at all since I didn’t even fight for us, but I am now. That’s why I’m here, and that’s what’s changed, Decker. I recognize what I had with you and I want to fight for it—to prove to you that what we had was real and deserves a second chance.”

I stare at her, unblinking, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I feel the anxiety of the situation I’m in clutching at me. I don’t know what to do.

Is she right? Does what we had deserve a second chance, or I am throwing away something with Juney without even giving it a shot?

“Look, it’s late and I’m exhausted, and I’m sure you are too. I don’t know what to say right now, Cami. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk about things further with you, but right now, in this moment, I’m asking for time and understanding while I think through some things.”

“Absolutely.” She says it without hesitation. “I’d expect nothing less after how I treated you.”

I turn back to the fireplace for a second, trying to figure out the best way to handle this.

I have to talk to Juniper tomorrow. I not only owe her the talk she wanted, but now I also need to explain why things between the two of us . . .

I won’t let myself finish that thought.

“Here,” I grab her suitcase, “let me show you to one of the guest rooms.” I walk her down the hall on the main floor, telling myself that keeping her on a different floor will be the safest bet when I have to explain all this to Juney.

“You have a beautiful home. Looks just like the pictures you showed me.” She scans the hallway as we walk through it, her eyes catching on the myriad of family photos that adorn the walls. “And a beautiful family.” Her fingers linger over our last family photo—the one we took when I came home a few months back.

“In here.” I motion into the room, turning on the light and placing her suitcase on the floor. “There’s an attached bathroom that has plenty of towels and probably anything you could need, actually.”

She pokes her head into the bathroom and flips on the light, opening a drawer and then a cabinet. “Does someone else live here with you?”

“No,” I chuckle, “my mom always insists that our guest rooms be stocked in case of unexpected guests . . . something that up until now has actually never happened, so I guess I can’t tease her about it anymore.”

She laughs and it does something to me—almost like it transports me back to a year ago when my life looked completely different . . . back then, I was settled in Texas, surrendered to my plan of staying there. My nights were consistently solo until I met Camilla, and then it was like sunshine entered my gray world.

Her laugh. That’s the first thing I noticed about her. I hadn’t even seen her—just heard it in a crowd at a rodeo one night. When she turned and her eyes met mine, the world felt safe.

“I hope I get to meet her soon.”

My eyes dart to hers and I’m hit with a second reality: Not only do I have to tell Juniper about Camilla and explain to her that she’s staying in my house at the moment, but I also have to tell my family about her.

“Camilla, there’s something . . .” I look up at her, her eyes smiling at me. I can’t do it. Not tonight. I can’t tell her that while I’m acting salty—accusing her of never giving us a chance—I never even told my family about her.

I can’t tell her because I don’t know why I didn’t tell them.

At the time, I had convinced myself it was because I didn’t want their teasing or input. After all, they’d done it to me my entire life when I bounced from woman to woman. They couldn’t see me any other way than that reckless, heartless version of myself who would most likely fuck this relationship up too.

But the real reason—the one I can barely admit to myself—was that I didn’t have faith in myself not to fuck it up. The moment she said “yes,” I’d planned to send them a picture of the two of us with the ring, and explain everything, but I never got the chance. She chose to walk away, so I didn’t owe them our story. But now I can’t escape it.

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