Page 61 of If My Wishes Came True
Afterward, we have a second glass of wine on his couch and, because I’m feeling so calm and comfortable with him, I take the opportunity to tell Charlie about my therapy sessions. About Hunter.
I explain everything, and he listens quietly, his eyes full of compassion and even heartbreak. “I’m so sorry, Jenna,” he says with a furrowed brow before he takes my hand and kisses it.
And then, because I expect he’ll see my tattoo sometime in the near future, I tell him the story behind it. It’s something I’ve never admitted to anyone, not even Esther.
“After Hunter’s funeral, I felt guiltier than ever. I’d convinced myself that if I hadn’t broken up with him, I’d have noticed he was sick, and he wouldn’t have died. I saw the pain in hisparents’ eyes, and I blamed myself. So I stopped at a tattoo shop on my way home. And I told the owner I wanted a rose, right on my hipbone.”
A rose for every month I’ve known and loved you.
“I’d lost a lot of weight, since I was depressed and hardly eating. And the tattoo artist told me it would hurt like hell because I was so thin. I had to beg him to do it. He asked me to consider putting it on the softer flesh next to the bone instead, but I convinced him I had a high pain tolerance, which wasn’t true at all. The truth is, Iwantedthe pain. I wanted to punish myself.
“I’ve never told anyone the meaning behind it. But when I’m with a guy, and he tells me how sexy it is, I feel like I’m hiding something. And I don’t want to feel that way with you. That’s why I’m telling you the truth. I know we’re taking things slow, but when you eventually see me…I want you to seeallof me.”
If I’m not mistaken, Charlie’s blinking back a tear. “Come here,” he says after a long exhale.
He pulls me into a hug, and I settle my head on his solid, supportive shoulder. “I’m sorry for dampening the mood.”
I feel him shake his head. “Are you kidding? I want to know everything about you, Jenna. It doesn’t have to be all sunshine and rainbows.”
He’s telling me that I don’t have to be bright, bubbly Jenna with him. Only if it feels genuine. And god help me, if I wasn’t already convinced that what I’m feeling is love, not lust—Charlie Sutton just sealed the deal.
But as much as I want to go all the way with him, I have to keep in mind that he told me he wanted to wait to have sex, too.
I tilt my head up to look into his eyes and thread my fingers into his hair, bringing his mouth to mine. After a sweet kiss, I pull back. “I’m going to go now. Even though I really want to stay.”
He nods and presses another kiss to the top of my head. “Let me walk you home.”
I giggle. “You sure you’re up for it?”
He just gazes at me and smiles.
A few minutes later, after he walks me to my door and gives me another chaste kiss, I’m home, on my bed, flipping through my high school journal—which I haven’t cracked open in a while. Not since before I met my boyfriend. I guess I’ve been distracted.
But now that I have met him…I see my drawings through different eyes.
And my heart stops the moment I realize what I’m looking at.
The sketches are of me and Charlie.
I mean, they’re doodles—but the man I drew has the same, gorgeous, dark eyes as Charlie, the same impossibly long lashes, and the same slight curl in his hair. He’s tall and muscular like Charlie. He even has his rosy cheeks.
In the first drawing, we’re crashing into each other—just like our meet-cute by the elevator. I even drew the sparks between us as jagged lightning bolts.
In another sketch, we’re walking on the beach with iced coffee. Check.
Admiring paintings at an art museum? You better believe it.
Now, we’re eating pancakes at an outdoor restaurant. Been there, done that.
He’s making me dinner. That tracks.
And here’s the one in Rome that I remember so clearly. This wish hasn’t come true yet…but is it only a matter of time?
Maybe it’s a coincidence. I mean, these are all fairly typical things to do on a date. Right?
Or maybe it’s fate.
Honestly, I don’t care.
