Page 18 of If My Wishes Came True
“Who cares what I used to wish for?” I blurt out, tears welling in my eyes. “My wishes never came true.”
“Icare. Because you’re miserable. I can hear it in your voice. And it’s only amatter of time before?—”
“Beforewhat?” I sob. “Before I fall apart again, like I did after grad school? Before you and Kyle have to drive down here, and pull me out of bed, and take me back to New York with you, so you can watch me like a hawk for six months? Make sure I shower and eat? Well, you don’t have to worry about me ever inconveniencing you like that again. Once was enough.”
My sister gasps. “You could never be an inconvenience to me! Iloveyou. So much. That’s why I worry about you. Because you scare me sometimes. Because…”
She pauses and sniffles.
“When I brought you to New York, all you did for weeks was stare at the TV and sleep. There was no light in your eyes, no joy in your smile…and do you know who you reminded me of?” She clears her throat again. “Mom.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my voice thin and shaky.
Christy exhales deeply before she answers. “Kyle thinks Mom has depressive tendencies.”
I scoff. “Kyle’s a radiologist, not a psychiatrist.”
“Well, he did a psych rotation in med school. But come on, you don’t have to be a doctor to see it. Mom’s never been truly happy.”
“I’mnotlike her,” I try to argue, but it sounds more like a plea.
“You didn’t used to be. But ever since Hunter?—”
“Christy, stop. Please. I really can’t talk about Hunter right now?—”
“Youneverwant to talk about him! That’s your problem. It’s been eight years, and you’re still not over?—”
I hang up on her.
By the time Charlie knocks on my door two hours later, I’ve recovered from the phone call with my sister. I get over it the same way I always do, which is to blast whichever Lola Piper album best fits my mood. I’ve been a diehard Pipette since her debut, and I can always count on her music to lift me up. Today, I listen toLimitless (Lola’s Edition)while I eat breakfast and pretend the conversation with Christy never happened.
I pause for a beat before I turn the knob, though. I can already feel the electricity between Charlie and me buzzing through the door, and I just don’t understand it. It’s thrilling, of course—but upsetting at the same time. I decided years ago that I would never feel this way again. Now my heart’s betraying me by manifesting an inexplicable connection to a man I don’t even know.
I was hoping our coffee date today would help break the spell. That I’d come back free of any lingering hope that Charlie could be the love I used to wish for.
But so far, we’re off to a bad start. I haven’t even seen his face yet, and there’s pure, unadulterated joy coursing through me. It’s the same way I felt when I painted the other day.
And that terrifies me.
He knocks again.
I shake my head to reset myself so he doesn’t see the hearts in my eyes. As soon as I open the door, though, Charlie’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning, and I’m so giddy, I have to bite my lip to keep my smile an acceptable size.
“Hey, Jenna,” Charlie says brightly.
“Hi, Charlie,” I reply.
Then, without even thinking, I wrap my arms around him.
My body’s betraying me again, but I don’t care. Being this close to him feels even better than I imagined. He’s much taller and bigger than I am, but the way our bodies mold together, it’s like there’s a Jenna-sized space between his arms where we fit like puzzle pieces. It settles my mind, and I feel present in a way I’m not used to.
I never felt like this with Scott. When we were in bed and he’d start kissing me, and unbuttoning my jeans, my thoughts would be everywhereexcepton him. I’d be making grocery lists in my mind, or thinking about backsplashes for the house we were flipping. But I never pressed my head against his chest and listened for his heartbeat the way I’m doing now with Charlie.
Even with Dex, I was always preoccupied, wondering how my body compared to the gorgeous models and actresses he’d been with. He gave me absolutely no reason to feel insecure, but I couldn’t help worrying about the stretchmarks on my hips andthe cellulite on my thighs. I mean, he dated Ava Elwood, the supermodel—quite possibly the most beautiful woman in the world. Even if her photos are airbrushed, she’s still 5'11" with legs for days. I don’t know her, of course, but from what I’ve seen in interviews, she seems really sweet, and down-to-earth, too.
And when Hunter and I?—
Dammit. I should probably end this hug with Charlie before it gets weird.
