Page 66 of I Choose You

“Thank you for being here.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “This is all so new, and so much is happening at once. You’re my rock, Kenz.” He lifts my chin. “I hope you know that.”

Emotion floods my veins. Tears threaten, but I push them down. I don’t want to ruin this for him. If it consumes me now, it’ll start a conversation we shouldn’t have here. I clamp down the reaction and urge him forward because, honestly, I should be okay with this. “Open her up.”

What does it matter if he likes it?

God, why did we do this?

Why did I come here?

He blows out one last breath before turning to unlock the door. The last ten years of my life flash before me as the door slowly opens. Summers with the Sacks brothers. Birthday parties. Sports games. Puberty struggles. High school dances. Prom. College. Nights of studying. It all rushes through me like a movie on fast-forward at four times the speed.

I don’t understand it until Mason moves past the small foyer to check out the open space that will be his new home. Beautiful doesn’t cut it. The kitchen, dining room, and living room form a large L. The open concept makes it bigger than I thought it would be from the outside. Stainless steel appliances form a triangle in the kitchen. Fully furnished, a leather living room set faces the direction of the windows. A television hangs on the far end of the room where there’s another door that leads to what I’m guessing is the bedroom, which we find with a bathroom plus the bonus of a clawfoot tub. It also opens into a nice size walk-in closet. Two sets of floor-to-ceiling windows are on both walls out in the living area, making it seem like one of the best apartments in the building—one on the corner.

Everything is sleek and modern, whites and blacks with sharp edges and clean surfaces, minus the glossy, well-taken care of oak floor.

One that makes me want to vomit in the nearest wastebasket. I make a valiant effort to push down the stomach acid that burns the back of my throat because this is a dream.

This place is a clear upgrade from what we have in Quaint. I knew this was an opportunity of a lifetime. I just didn’t realize the extent of it until now. There’s no way Mason would say no to Texas after this. Not that I was hoping for him too, but there is absolutely zero chance he’ll change his mind after seeing this. My hands immediately turn clammy from sweat. When Mason ventures back into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, I wipe them on my jeans hoping it dries them, so he doesn’t notice.

“Damn! This place is incredible,” he shouts.

“It is.” It doesn’t come out as enthusiastic as I would like, but he doesn’t pick it up. Thankfully, all the details and that his boss would go to a length like this for him is distracting enough. I know why he did. Mason is remarkable, diligent, and knows what he’s doing. Seeing this all now, I’m shocked it didn’t come sooner.

When he walks out of the bathroom, I put on a brave face. “All I need in there is a bidet.”

Half a laugh spills from me as I make it back out into the living room to get a view of the scenery. The enormous windows show so much. The restaurants below us are small, but the way the sun casts a glow over the smaller suburb is noteworthy. Briefly, I wonder what the sunrises are like. If they’re as good as the ones I see on my walk to Jessie’s. Being this high up, I bet they’re better.

Unexpectedly, arms wrap around my midsection, and my stiff shoulders relax. “We’re facing west. I bet the sunsets are incredible.”

I didn’t consider the direction when I was wondering about the sunrise and blink away the fact we were thinking close to the same thing. “I was thinking about the sunrises.”

He rests his chin on the top of my head. “I hope I’m home to actually see them.”

In Maine, he works so much he doesn’t get in until after the sun already sets. I hope for his sake he gets to see them, too. Otherwise, what’s the point of moving? Having a team collaborating with him should offer him more time and freedom to enjoy the small things.

“Yeah, me, too.” It comes out more melancholic than I intend, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut in instant regret. I didn’t want to do this to him. Didn’t want to ruin the day for him. I didn’t realize it would sound so…gloomy until it left my mouth.

“Hey.” He’s quiet when he says it and spins me around. His palms move to my cheeks. “Don’t do that.”

I’m trying to mentally shake away the sadness threatening to consume me, but it’s tough. This trip is putting life into perspective. It’s making me wonder if these last few weeks were a mistake. If allowing him into my life more intimately was a bad choice. He’ll be halfway across the country in a week and a half. Where will I be then?

Why do I even care? I shouldn’t. I should be perfectly okay with this. If he’s here, we won’t be able to commit to each other. Not seriously, anyway. I should be jumping for joy. Except I feel the complete opposite. My stomach cramps right below my diaphragm when I suck in as much air as my anxiety will allow. Why didn’t anyone warn me grief would finagle its way into my heart?

“I’m not trying to do anything,” I tell him.

“You’re worrying about me leaving. I can see it in your eyes,” he says softly.

I close them, hoping that when I open them again, they’re magically reset and seem happier. Except, honesty spills from my mouth instead. It comes out like word vomit, and once it starts, I can’t stop it. “This was a bad idea.” We shouldn’t have been so careless.

His brows crinkle, causing a tiny crease between them. “What was a bad idea? What are you talking about?”

“This.” I take a step back to allow my arms to circle the room. “Me coming to Austin with you.” My chest is heavy, and the ache in my heart causes sharpness in the back of my throat.

“I don’t understand.” He shakes his head vigorously as confusion sets in. In the next breath, he moves the heels of his hands over his eyes to rub this visual away, of me dropping all this emotion on him while we’re supposed to be appreciating a trip away. “How? I thought we were enjoying our time together.”

I let out a sardonic laugh. “When you asked me to come, I thought I could handle the reality of you leaving. Seeing this apartment makes it real. I mean, it already was real, but this takes it to an entirely different level.”

A hallway will no longer separate us. Our intimacy will come to a dead end. My best friend will be gone. What happens when I need him?

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