Page 113 of Old Acquaintances

Today

My eyes drift open. I’m snuggled into Tucker’s body, his hands loose but caged, as if he woke up a dozen times to stop me from falling off the couch. It’s daylight beyond the sliding glass doors. There’s noise in the kitchen.

For the first time in years, I’m warm. I’m safe. I’m right where I want to be. I can say with conviction thatI love him.He is exactly the person I thought he was. He might not have called me for years, but his silence came from a place of care. He stayed away because he needed that time to heal, and that makes sense to me.

I received the answer I wanted.

I don’t want to move. I just want to stay in this position where everything is fine. I know what I need - he still cares, he showed up - and the rest can take the backseat. The rest being…us. This hold he has over my heart. My body. It’s all so intertwined. I told myself it was youth, young love, first times. That I would always hold something for the boy who kissed me best. But, deep in the crevices of my soul, I never felt satisfied without his presence. I hated him because I couldn’t love him, because I felt incomplete and hurt. That part is still unresolved. I never knew exactly what I wanted, or needed, from him, but I do now. If he’s the same man I loved seven years ago, then he’ll be the same one I’ll love seven years from now. And more.

Did he ever really love me? For any of it, all of it?

Can I reconcile myself to sitting on the sidelines watching as his friend while he builds a life with another woman?

“Hey.” Tucker wakes with a moan. “You’re still here.”

“Yes.” I lift my chin to him. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Our mouths are lined up, his eyes note the closeness. I feel him against my stomach, focusing on the heat radiating under his hands. Last night, he held me to him. I kissed his skin, and he touched me with his breath. I truly relaxed for the first time in years.

“We should get up,” he says, lifting me with him to a seated position. My hand falls to his thigh. He moves it with a wince. “I’ll bet Serena has things planned for today.”

“That’s it?” I ask when he stands. He silently walks away.

It’s almost our last day. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. We celebrate our birthday and then we all go home. Me to Atlanta, Tucker to Savannah. Same state, different cities, different flights. If we’re able to keep up the friendliness, I’ll probably see him at the baby’s first birthday in September and maybe even Christmas, but I don’t imagine more interaction. I told our friends we wouldn’t see each other anymore and they would honor my wishes, just as they have.

I stand by that statement. I can’t dothisagain. I can’t do friend vacations. I forgive him for not calling, I’ll always feel indebted to him for saving my life, he’s a breathing piece of my heart, but I’ll never be able to see him happy with another woman because I will hate her on the principle because I loved him first and he might have loved me some, too. I want more than all of that.

I walk into the kitchen where Callie braids Serena’s hair at the table. It’s sunny outside, everyone else is eating at the patio table. They must have all walked past us while we slept. I assume they all know the truth. No doubt they had their ears pressed tothe walls while Tucker and I had it out. They would have been the people to prop up him after he left me in the hospital, to encourage him to see a professional about his feelings. They met him when he walked out of jail and didn’t judge him for it.

These friends held my hand while I recovered. They didn’t press or pry or argue when I expressed my needs. They held Tucker’s hand, too, and they kept his secrets.

I’ve been so caught up in my head, I haven’t appreciated the people around me.

God, they’re good people.

Tucker emerges from our bedroom with jeans and a shirt, he avoids my eye, and he snatches the rental car keys from the table.

“Thanks, Tuck,” Serena calls out.

“Where is he going?” I ask after he’s gone.

“I rented a boat so we can go snorkeling. He’s going to get it since he’s the only one who can drive a boat.”

Without thinking I yell, “Wait!” I open the door and shout, “Tucker, wait!”

“What are you doing?” Serena questions when I start striping off my pajamas.

I run into the bedroom and pop on a simple jersey dress. “I’m going with him.”

“Because you’re a boat fanatic?”

I’m not entirely sure why I’m doing this. I haven’t thought it out. I just know I can’t let him put a stamp on this moment and mail me off like the accident was our only link, our only unexplored truth. “I’m going because…I have to make him fall in love with me.”

Callie laughs, “Then, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Do it the right way, Ell,” Serena insists. “Make yourself beautiful and we can set you guys up on a romantic dinner tonight -”

“Screw that,” I snap, sliding into flip-flops.

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