Page 82 of When We Meet Again

“Want to read it?”

Waverly pulls her lip between her teeth, contemplating if she should. She’s now propped on her knees next to me, and I bump her arm with mine.

“Read it. Please.”

So she does. She takes it from my hand while looking in my eyes. The waves start to pick up as the breeze gets stronger.

She starts reading silently.

“Out loud, Waverly,” I demand with a low voice, and her cheeks flush enough that I can see them in the candlelight.

Waverly,

While the new you is standing next to me, the old you is gone. But I can’t live another day without thanking you because it was the ‘old’ you who taughtme so much. She taught me patience. She taught me empathy. She taught me how to breathe correctly while jogging. She taught me the in’s and out’s of tennis. She taught…or insisted on telling me who I should root for during Indy races. She taught me about love, and that love has no expectations and no limitability. It’s unconditional. And as much as I love the old version of you and who you were and what you taught me, the new you is a match for my soul. So while I grieve who you used to be. While I grieve losing you years ago, I’m inundated with feelings at this moment, and I need you to know that I’m irrevocably in love with you. The old, the new, and the future you.

Always,

Rome

At this moment, the sea kissing the sand is the only audible sound. Waverly sits frozen with my confession in hand—only breathing.

I let her sit in her feelings.You can take as long as you need. So long as long as when you come up for air, you come to me. Please.

I’ve been through so many seasons of her life the past almost eight years. I’ve had front-row seats to watch her losing herself, her succumb to sadness, her loss of hope, her surrender to death with the loss of Patrick. But I’ve also seen and been privy to a part of her unwavering friendship, her ability to dig herself out of an emotional rut. I was here when she ascendedfrom the depths of what I can only assume was depression, and if I thought she was perfect before, she’s the ultimate level of sublime to me.

Her eyes drift to me,finally.As if there is a string between us, constantly pulling us together, no matter where we are or what phase of life we’re in. She leans into me, pushing her chest against mine.

Her emeralds bounce between my eyes, and I rest my hands on her hips, unsure what’s running through that beautiful blonde head of hers, and then she says it.

She looks down at the paper in her hand. Her eyes widen like she’s having an epiphany. “When Pat—” her eyes pinch shut and she quickly shakes her head.

“Tell me, please?” I rub my hands up her arms, encouraging her. “You can say anything to me.”

She nods slightly, but never takes her eyes from mine. “When Patrick proposed, even when he told me he loved me for the first time, I never got butterflies. I never got any type of overwhelming flow of emotions. I never pictured our future, but was more stuck in the moment.” Waverly arches away from me, but our hips are still pressed against each other. I watch as her small fingers roll up my confession and tie it with a ribbon. As if it were a delicate crystal vase, she lays it gently next to us and smiles at it as if it’s smiling back. She rights herself back in my arms, but this time her hands wrap around my neck. “I think it was because that’s not where I was supposed to be.”

I smile because I know her. I know when she’s about to pull away, and I know when she’s about to tell me something I’ve been longing to hear. “That letter is everything. It gave me butterflies.” Her eyes flutter shut, and she rests a gentle kiss against my lips. “I saw the future. I’m notstuckanymore.”

Here we are. Together. Eyes closed and lips millimeters apart. “It will always be you for me, Rome. The love I have for you, it’s like it has always been you.”

“Before I kiss you, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop, we should release the lanterns.”

She nods, and we both stand with our smiles wide.

She bends over to pick up my letter and clasps it in both hands. “May I keep this?”

I pull another out of my back pocket. “I thought you’d ask that…well, I hoped, so I made a copy.”

A loud laugh escapes her, and she shoves me in the shoulder. “You didn’t! You did?” She tries to grab it, and I pull it away from her.

“You’ve already read what’s in my heart, it’s the same thing in this one,” I insist.

She goes to grab it again, and I hold her back with my hand. It’s cute that she tries to fight me. “It’s the same thing! I just want you to try to go and tie it yourself.”

She stops and playfully narrows her eyes at me. “Waverly,” I lower my voice. “You can’t tie a ribbon for shit.” Her mouth falls open and I stick my tongue between my teeth, laughing.

“You!” Her scream is drowned out by the watery abyss. “My ribbons are girly with curls at the end.” She turns in a huff and moves over to the other lanterns, muttering under her breath.

This letter isn’t like the other. It’s a wish…a wish to the heavens that this woman would marry me, and if she still wants to have kids, she will let me give her as many as she wants. It’s begging the universe to give us the time we’ve lost, and then some. Until eternity.

---