Page 86 of If This Was a Movie

I fucked up. I took too long. I pushed him away too much.

Tears start to fall against my will as I come to terms with how big I’ve fucked this up. I just wanted to clear my head, not push him away. And now I think it’s too late.

I watch as he moves to the side of the house, grabbing a shovel and carving a clear walkway between the passenger side door and the front door before unlocking it. Then he comes back to my side, opens the door, and puts a hand out to me.

“Come on. Be careful; it might still be slippery.”

I stare at his hand, then the path he just made for me, then finally, up at Nate. When our eyes meet, his brow furrows with concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, opening the door further, but the softness isn’t there. My Nate isn’t here, the one who teases me and pushes me out of my comfort zone because he knows I need him to, or else I’ll stay in the safety of the familiar, lonely but safe for the rest of my life.

Now there’s a wall in front of him, and I wonder if this is how he’s felt the whole time.

“You’re mad at me.” I shiver, staring at my hands, snowflakes floating into the open door, landing on my leggings and melting, but I barely pay them any mind.

“What?”

“You’re mad at me.”

He sighs deeply before saying, “I’m…I’m frustrated.”

“With me?”

He groans, then looks at the gray sky. When he looks back at me, a dusting of snowflakes is on his eyelashes, and I want to wipe them away, but I don’t think that’s my right anymore.

Maybe it never was. I never really earned it, after all.

“Yes. No? I don’t know. I’m mad at myself for pushing you so much to the point you felt you needed to flee in a snowstorm to get space. And with you because you refuse to give us an honestchance.” I open my mouth to argue, but he continues speaking. “January hurt you. But you weren’t the only one wrecked by that, Jules. There’s been no one here for me.”

I hesitate before asking for clarification. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve been praying every day that I’d get to see that girl again, that I’d find out what happened. That you would show up right when I needed you most. And then you did. You can’t tell me that’s not a sign.”

I shake my head because I can’t fathom what he’s saying, can’t process it, but he interprets it as me disagreeing.

“I forgot. This new, closed-off version doesn’t believe in signs anymore, right?”

I shake my head, tears welling again, desperate to explain, to tell him I wanted to come here and talk to him, but I needed to clear my head first, beat back my fears, and simply lost track of time.

“No! I wasn’t running. I’m just…scared, Nate. I’m terrified.”

“So what?”

“So what? I’m scared, and you say ‘so what?’” I say loudly, the sound buffered by the snow around us, and Nate throws his hands into the air.

“Yes! News flash, Jules, life is fucking scary if you’re living it. You don’t like to be scared, you don’t like risks? Too bad. That’s what life is about.”

My breathing comes heavier, his words fracturing something in me, some barrier I’ve built up, the truth of them shaking me.

Have I been living? Or have I just been hiding, doing the bare minimum to get through each day without the danger of getting hurt?

“I don’t know if you’ve ever let yourself live, baby. But I’m trying to get past your wall so I can make sure you do. I’m trying to make sure from here on out, you live. I want you to chase yourdreams and get your happy ending. And do it scared because you know I’ll be there, ready to catch you if you slip. But I can’t do that if you keep hiding, if you keep denying you’re mine.”

Finally, those tiny cracks split open, letting out everything I’ve been holding in, and I put my hands on his chest.

“Of course I am!” I shout, pushing and watching him stumble with shock. I don’t even have time to register the embarrassment I should feel at finally snapping at him because my heart has taken over, my mind and self-preservation taking a backseat. “Of course, I’m yours, Nate! I’m inlovewith you and I have been for a whole year! It makes no sense at all. None! Do you know how crazy it feels to have your heartbroken after just two nights with someone? Do you know how insane I felt, mourning the merepromiseof you for an entire year?” His eyes are wide, but I’m past common sense, I’m past watching my words. “That’s what is so terrifying. I spent a weekend with you, knew you for a week before you broke my heart by accident, and then I spent an entire year mourning the loss of you. What happens if it’s longer? How will I survive that kind of hurt?”

I feel it then, a single warm tear on my cold cheek dropping, but I’m too far gone.

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