Page 27 of It's Always Us

“That’d be tragic.”

“Ha. I see you’re still hell-bent on using as few words as possible.”

“I just save them up for when they really matter.”

He laughs, and it’s that laugh that stretches my mouth to limits it hasn’t ventured into since I last heard it.

“Lex, where are you?” he barks, forcing us back on track. It’s demanding, and I like itwaytoo much.

My hidden grin turns into a yawn as I rub my puffy eyes. “Home.”

“Good. You left so quickly that I didn’t get to tell you to text me. I got home late and didn’t want to wake you up to be sure you made it.”

“Did you win?”

“My own wife didn’t watch my game?”

The word rolling off his tongue sends my stomach soaring into a backflip, and I want him to say it again.

“I couldn’t watch,” I tell him honestly because there’s no use in pretending anything anymore.

“Why?”

Such a simple question, yet so difficult to answer, especially when I want to respond with truth. I take a second to gather my thoughts, and he waits as he always did.

“I didn’t want to see your face.”

He laughs again, and it sends warmth from my head to my toes. “Baby, some women only watch the game to see this face.”

“Shut up.” He’s not wrong. I see what women post and talk about. But now, he’s married . . . to me. A smile tries to break free, but I quickly yank it back, with the reminder that he’s . . . wherever and I’m here. “I didn’t want to see you there . . . far away again.”

“We’re just starting, Lex. You and me.” His tone is instantly serious and intense. Manly and direct. It’s new, and I don’t hate it. “I don’t care what we have to do. I can’t live without you, so whatever has to happen,we’re going to do it.” He says it matter-of-factly and I almost believe how simple he makes it sound.

I roll to my side, holding the phone tight against my ear. I need to be brave and unpack all the thoughts I shoved into my backpack and left zipped up tight. “But we don’t know each other anymore. You have your life, and I have mine. So much time has passed, and everything around us has changed.”

“I know you, Lex, in all the ways that matter, and you know me.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” I say, biting my lip, recalling his tone and words to whoever he was speaking with on the phone in the bathroom.

I hear him push out a breath, and I don’t know if it’s frustration or angst. “What do you want? Please, just tell me. If this was a mistake to you, then say it.”

His direct question catches me off guard. All I hear is anguish now, and I hate it.

I’m careful with my words. “Youare all I’ve ever wanted, but . . . I’m not sure I understand what that means. We aren’t the same people. I don’t know anything about your life beyond what I see on the screen, and most of that has been you with other women.”

That last part slips out, but at least it’s honest.

“Lex, I was a fucking idiot. None of that was what it looked like.” His tone is forceful, and I want to believe him.

“I think maybe we got caught up in the moment and the past the other night, and I . . . I don’t know where we go from here. I’ve never wanted to get in your way, and I won’t now.”

“Lex, seriously, how do you not get it?” His soft, gentle voice has a lump forming in my throat. “You are my dream.Youare all I want.”

“How can you be sure? I’m not the same girl I used to be.” I try to tease, but reality is, I’m not the same person I was, and neither is he.

“I see that,” he says plainly. “Lex, I don’t want to be here. I want to be wherever you are.” I hear his frustration and imagine him running a hand through his hair. “I know we can’t make up for all the time we’ve been apart, but I just need to know that you still want to be with me now.”

“What does that mean ‘be’ with you?” I ask the question I’m pretty sure neither of us has an answer to.

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