Page 58 of When We Meet Again

Roman.

Roman clears his throat. “I actually have to get going.”

I know that look. I’ve seen it many times before, and he’s been open about hating the way Patrick talked to me sometimes. His jaw muscles are flexed like he’s trying not to say something he may regret.

“No. Stay?” I almost beg, my eyes pleading.

“No, no. You both have a lot to catch up on.”

I look at Patrick, hoping he’ll ask his brother to stay. He doesn’t. “Well… let me walk you out?”

Roman nods and I follow him out to his truck.

“Roman?”

He begins to turn away to leave, as if he’s forgotten that I’m standing here in front ofhim. I want to stay out here withhim. Not chase his long-lost brother.

“Roman. Talk to me!”

He shakes his head. “This was never going to work, anyway. You’re you. I’m me. He’s back and we aren’t together. Nothing is keeping you here…with me.” He looks up at my apartment. His walls are up. He is back to the Roman who disappeared. The one who kept his distance all these years. I won’t let that happen again. Ican’tlet that happen again. It’ll break me. And more importantly, I can already see it breaking him.

I grab his shirt with my fists, tears streaming down my face. “Roman, please. You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know what I mean.” His eyes widen in disbelief. “This…it’s crazy, right? We finally start to get our happy ending and now…” A slap comes from his arms falling to his sides.

He turns away and rubs his hands over his face as a loud growl erupts from deep within him. The gravel crumbles under his feet as he spins back and flies toward me, holding himself inches from my face.

“Of course I don’t fucking mean it! I’ve let myself fall for you,again.” His hands cradle my cheeks. “And for some reason, every time I think that I can have you, I get emotionally and mentally slammed.” His shoulders sag in relief. “I’m sick…of being…slammed.”

Roman runs his long fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots, deep in thought. Silence fills the air between us until— “Please, Waverly. Don’t go in there. I can’t lose you again. I love you. I fuckingloveyou.”

“You…” I lose my breath and can only muster a whisper. “You love me?” Trying to blink away the tears, I hold my hands over his.

The pads of his thumbs wipe away my tears. “I’ve loved you since I met you. Just…come home with me,” he begs, tears threatening to fall. “Come home and I’ll spend my life ticking off items on your bucket list.” He buries the heat of his face in the crook of my neck, and as a reflex, one palm cradles the back of his head, while the other gently rubs his back. The warmth of his breath causes me to shudder inwardly, and the warmth of his body causes me to melt. Thinking about losing him—this feeling is all too much.

He stands straight and our eyes lock before one tear falls. “You want to travel the world?! Done! You want to swim in what’s left of the Great Barrier Reef? We can do that, too.” Another tear falls. “If you want to open a lightning bug sanctuary, I’ll fucking build it for you. Somehow, but I’ll make it happen.” He cries. I cry. We cry together. “I will spend the rest of my life making you happy becauseyoumake me happy. Just…please…don’t go in there. Not right now, anyway. Come homewith me.”

Have you ever had a moment in your life when you feel everything slipping away—falling through your fingers. Hearing Roman’s pleas is breaking my heart. I remember after Patrick proposed I was dead set on believing I wasn’t happy because I was so used to the other shoe dropping. Well, here it is. The shoe has dropped. Both shoes are buried six feet under. At least I thought one of the shoes was long buried.

“Roman, I can’t… it’s not…”I can’t what? It’s not what?I don’t even know. Iwantto go home with him. But it’s not that simple. Patrick is back. Myfiancéis back. We have so much to talk about. It’s not like I’m going to fall right back into his arms. How am I supposed to pick up where we left off? Patrick and I were complacent in our relationship. Right before the tsunami siren went off, I was already contemplating whether or not I made the right decision by saying yes to his proposal. But that doesn’t let me off the hook to just walk away from him and into the arms of his brother.But where the hell has he been for the last year?

This is all so complicated, but Ineedto have a conversation with Patrick before I can fall into another man’s arms. Nobody writes a ‘How-to’ book on these types of life events.

I place my hand on his chest, hoping he can feel my defeat. My unsaid promises to him. “We will talk tomorrow. Just…this is a lot.”

“I hate that I’m not over the fucking moon that he’s back,” his voice breaks while releasing a secret that was meant for just us. “I resent him. I’m a shitty fucking person, Waverly.” He doesn’t wait for me to say anything before sliding into his truck, closing the door, and jetting out of the lot, kicking up dust as he leaves.

“Roman!” I scream, hoping he hears my plea. “I love you, too. Come back.” I shout into the dirt he’s kicked up with the tires.

I fall to my knees and sob into my hands. “Come back,” I sob, as loud as possible.

I watch his truck disappear and stand there for a few extra minutes. I pushed him to go. And although I told him to leave, I stand there hoping…praying he’ll continue to fight for me. For us.

A few minutes later,Patrick and I are face to face. In the flesh. I haven’t moved away from the front door, and he hasn’t moved from the kitchen. He stands still and casual, with his hands tucked in his pants pockets.

Something has shifted between us. It’s not simply that he disappeared and came back. He’s a stranger. His entire demeanor has changed.

“Can you say something?” He gives me a nervous glance, urging me to speak, but I have no words.

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