Page 49 of Just One Chance
I’ve probably done enough to scare you off as it is, I can’t write this much already without telling you how I feel about you. I’m in love with you, Avery. I almost decided not to tell you. My pride didn’t want you to know of my feelings unless I was certain you felt the same way. But I figure it can only help my case when it comes to justifying what I’ve done. It has to be better to just own it, openly, honestly, without posturing. Of course, I’m also motivated by a likely vain and ridiculous hope that you might consider the possibility of loving me back. Someday, at least? I don’t deserve you; I know that much. But I feel the feelings just the same and believe you deserve nothing but the truth from me after all I’ve put you through.
From the first oyster you made me eat, I’ve loved you. You mesmerize me. You fill me up in ways I’ve never imagined possible. You inspire me. You make me laugh. You make me want to be better at everything I do.
I’m so sorry I hurt you.
I’m sorry I can’t say these words in person.
I love you.
Yours, David
Avery read the letter through once, and then again.
She finished her donut, ate a second one, and then ripped open the to-go box of hushpuppies and ate those as well. Nothing said comfort like fried cornbread, and she needed comfort. When the hushpuppies were gone, she read the letter one more time.
It wasn’t that she was mad he’d said so much. It was maybe the most eloquent letter she’d ever read. For all of his talk of being a terrible communicator, his letter was Jane Austen novel-worthy. But what was she supposed to do with all those feelings he’d shared? How was she supposed to respond? To react? She didn’t love him back. She knew that much. She liked him. She’d thought about the possibility of dating him, but how do you date someone when you know from date one that they’re already in love with you? Talk about pressure.
Avery reached into the basket and pulled out an orange, ripping into the peel. It was the middle of freaking July. How had David even found beautiful perfect navel oranges in the middle of the summer? And in the middle of the night? It was almost as impossible as fresh hushpuppies.
Avery ate the orange, which tasted perfect, of course, and paced around her kitchen. A walk on the beach might help clear her head, but if she went outside, she might run into David. And she still had no idea what to say to him. So she paced around her kitchen some more, periodically glancing out her window toward his house to see if he was still at home. A few more laps and she couldn’t stand to be indoors any longer, so she headed to the back door. It wasn’t David’s beach. She had just as much right to walk on it as he did. If she happened to see him, she’d just keep on walking.
She pushed through her back door, nearly running headlong into Tucker who stood on her screened-in porch.
She jumped and stepped backward, a hand flying to her heart. “Geez, you scared me half to death. What are you doing here?”
“Sorry,” Tucker said. He sounded out of breath and looked awful. He still wore the clothes he’d had on the night before, his shirt untucked and sweat stained, and his eyes were bloodshot. “I parked down at the IOP county park and walked.”
Avery narrowed her eyes. It was close to three miles to Isle of Palms. “Why? Is Jessica tracking your car?”
“My phone, actually,” Tucker said. “I left it in the car.”
Avery rolled her eyes and pushed past him. “Please leave, Tucker. I don’t want to be a part of this.”
“I know, I know. I just came to apologize.”
She turned around. “For what? For using me? For making me think you actually wanted to get back together? For lying to me over and over again? Fine. You’ve apologized. Now get off my property. I never want to see you again.”
“Avery, come on. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“But you did. And I was an idiot to let it happen. Lesson learned. When all of your friends say you’re dating a jerk, it’s probably best to listen.”
Tucker’s eyes narrowed. “Did David say I was a jerk?”
Avery turned on Tucker. “Don’t even try to bring my friends into this. Youarea jerk. Your behavior more than justifies anything that any of my friends might have said about you.”
Tucker was silent a moment, his hands propped on his hips. “He told you, didn’t he? He followed me once before. He must have done it again last night and then called you and told you I was at the movie theater.” Tucker swore. “I knew that guy would rat me out.”
“Stop it, Tucker. David doesn’t have anything to do with this. I was at the movie theater and I saw you. That’s all there is to it.”
Tucker shot her a look. “Alone? In Mt. Pleasant? I know you well enough to know you’d never go see a movie alone.”
“You don’t know me at all, Tucker,” Avery said. “Not anymore.”
Tucker turned and looked toward David’s house. “Is he at home right now? I feel like punching somebody’s nose in. His will do just fine.”
“Tucker, stop. I mean it. This isn’t a mess David made. This is a messyoumade. And if you think I’m going to stand by and let you sling mud at him or wreck his career over somethingyoudid? You’re wrong.”
“So hedidtell you,” Tucker said. “You wouldn’t know I’d threatened his job unless he did.”
