Page 124 of The Perfect Love

“Now, a chocolate croissant is tasty, but nothing close to a meal. Can I go make you something to eat? I’m not a sandwich connoisseur like you, but I do all right.”

“Yeah.” I grab her hand as she climbs off the bed. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No. I mean thank you for coming here. For caring for me even when I tried to stop you. For not taking offense to me not telling you. For seeing me. You always see me.”

She smiles, though her eyes are glassy, and leans down to place a gentle kiss on my lips.

“You always see me too.”

Chelsea made me the best sandwich I’d ever eaten, then I passed the fuck out. Apparently, emotional turmoil is exhausting. When I woke up, Chelsea was sitting next to me, all my pictures neatly stacked in piles at the end of my bed.

Now we’re going through them all together, and it’s awakening a whole other part of me to share these pieces of my life with her.

The last couple have made her bristle, though, because they’re pictures of me in my Syracuse baseball uniform with some of my teammates. Have I been watching her extra closely to see if there are any signs she recognizes any of them? Of course. She’s right that we should be partners—taking care of and protecting each other—but my protective heart will always lead with her. Especially when it comes to this.

Still, she hasn’t reacted like she’s recognized anyone, and I’m happy to move on to different memories.

My smile almost splits my face when she picks up the next one. It’s a picture of me with Aaron, Joel, and Miles, arms slung around each other, sweaty and covered in dirt.

“After we won our last game before the state championship. It was the farthest our high school team had made it in like twenty years or something. I think Miles’s mother orchestrated that photo. She’s tiny and terrifying and runs everything with a sugary sweet voice and a deadly glare.”

She laughs at that, and I grab the next picture, my smile only growing when I see it.

“Huh, look at that.”

It’s a picture of me with my parents under the sign for her family campground.

She smiles big too, then drags her finger over the blurry figures in the background, standing near a golf cart with the campground logo on it.

“That’s me.”

I turn to look at her, mouth hanging open. “Seriously? You’re sure?”

She nods. “It’s obvious to me. My hair was redder back then, and I’m standing next to Robbie, who had shaggy hair at the time—actually, he pretty much had an entire Shaggy vibe, like fromScooby Doo. I spent a lot of my summers riding around in that old golf cart with Robbie. We named her Bertha. Bouncing Bertha.”

“There’s that tether again. I can’t believe all this time I’ve had a picture of you. I guess that answers whether we ever saw each other. We must have.”

“Sometimes I wish I’d have felt that pull sooner. Looked up and locked eyes with you. There’s no way I wouldn’t have known.”

“Known what?”

“That you’re my person.”

I set the photos down and turn to her, my palm resting on her cheek.

“Sometimes I let myself imagine what would’ve happened if I’d met you at any of the previous points when our paths crossed.”

“And?”

I shrug. “It always would’ve ended up the same. You here next to me.”

She grabs my shirt and pulls me closer. “Always such a sweet talker.” Then she kisses me, quick and spicy, finishing with a nip of my bottom lip.

I laugh and kiss her nose, then she cuddles in close, and we get back to looking through the stories of my life.

After Chelsea and I spent the afternoon relaxing in my room and looking through pictures, she coaxed me out of my room for pizza at dinner time, where my friends gave me shit and reminded me they are also here for me. I know I should get better at letting everyone in, but I like being the one they can count on, either to talk to about hard shit or to make them laugh with my stupidity.

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