Page 96 of If My Wishes Came True
“Jenna? What’s wrong?” Christy asks, her hand on my shoulder.
I burst into tears.
My sister and friends gaze at me with concern, their foreheads crinkled.
“I don’t know if Charlie and I are going to work out,” I admit, wiping tears from my eyes.
Christy, already up-to-date on my boyfriend troubles, rubs my arm as I continue. “He’s a chronic people-pleaser—and he’s terrified of conflict—and I’m not sure I can trust him with my heart. I mean, he would have married you, Vanessa, if you hadn’t been brave enough to call off the wedding. All because he didn’t want to upset you. So, how will I ever know if he’s being genuine with me? And he’s been miserable working for his dad for the last nine years, but hasn’t worked up the courage to stand up to him.”
Vanessa nods knowingly.
“I’m not sure he’ll ever change,” I continue. “I told him I needed space after the whole Nico Reveal, and we argued after we left your place on Saturday. Now, he’s in Denver for work, and I have no idea what’s going through his head.”
Sam, Christy, and I all look to Vanessa for guidance.
“You and Charlie argued?” she asks, stunned. “And he actually agreed to give you space?”
I nod.
Vanessa raises her eyebrows, looking impressed. “That surprises me, to tell you the truth. We never fought once the entire time we were together. And if I was ever annoyed with him over something small, he wouldn’t rest until he’d smoothed things over. He couldn’t stand me being upset with him. It may not seem like much, but he’s making progress, Jenna. He’s passionate enough about your relationship to argue over it. And I bet it’s killing him to give you space, but he’s doing it anyway. That just goes to show how much he cares about you.”
I sniffle. “You really think so?”
Vanessa nods. “I saw the way he looked at you last week, at my apartment. I never once caught him looking at me like that. If there’s anyone he’ll change for, it’s you.”
I wipe my cheeks again. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Vanessa’s words are nice to hear, but they’re only her opinion, of course. I won’t have the answers I’m looking for until I see Charlie again. And even then, there’s no guarantee he’ll be able to stamp out my uncertainty.
So, back at my apartment later that night, while Christy’s showering, I take my journal of wishes out of my nightstand. And for the first time in twelve years, I add a sketch.
It’s of Charlie.OnlyCharlie.
He’s in the Tuscan countryside. He’s got his camera strapped around his neck.
And he’s happy.
It’s the morning of the art show. Charlie’s portrait is out of my studio now, already on display at the gallery. Christy dropped it off yesterday, while I was wrapping up one of my final design projects with a client. It was probably for the best that I didn’t deliver the piece myself, since I can’t even glance at it without getting misty-eyed.
Everywhere I look, I see reminders of Charlie. Even now, as I’m sitting next to Christy at my kitchen island, finishing the omelet she just whipped up for me. Who knew that eggs could be so triggering? All I can think about is the expertly prepared breakfast my boyfriend made me the morning after we first slept together—and now there are tears in my coffee.
My sister tilts her head, her eyes full of sympathy. “Are you afraid he’s not going to show up at the gallery?”
I nod, a sob escaping my chest. Christy puts an arm around me as I answer her question between sniffles. “I’m already nervous enough for tonight as it is. What if my painting isn’twell-received? What if the only people who can appreciate it are the people who know me? Maybe strangers won’t be moved by a portrait of Charlie, and the loving way he looks at me. And what if he never looks at me like that again?”
“Take a deep breath,” my sister says, her tone calm and even. “First of all, your work is extraordinary—anyone can see that. And second of all…I believe what Vanessa said at the bar last weekend. Charlie’s fighting for you, Jenna. He’s given you space for two whole weeks, when it’s probably everything he can do not to call you. I think we’re going to walk into the art gallery tonight, and he’ll already be there, waiting for you, with flowers and a heartfelt speech?—”
I sigh. “I think we watched one too many rom-coms this week, and you’ve lost touch with reality.”
Christy’s shoulders slump. “Maybe. But…I want to believe in soulmates. I want to think that love can be written in the stars.”
When she arrived last weekend, I showed her the sketches in my journal, and told her about Charlie’s dreams. She wouldn’t even consider the possibility that it’s a coincidence.
“I mean, we never got to see that kind of love with Mom and Dad. And the cosmic connection between you and Charlie? It’s just so beautiful, and romantic…”
Now my sister’s cheeks are streaked with tears.
My eyes go wide. “Oh no…I broke you! I never should’ve subjected you to all those sappy movies.”
