Page 43 of Run to Me
“Maybe,” I say back, both thankful and a little hurt that he’d turned down Glen’s offer to crash at my place. I’d stopped myself from shooting him a glare when he made the suggestion. He thought he was helping. Glen always thinks he’s helping by pushing me to my limits to prevent me from missing out on opportunities.
This is one he’d certainly want me to miss out on, though, and he doesn’t even know it yet. I hope he never finds out either. Jace being here increases those chances, so if he plans to walk away and never come back again, he might as well leave now. Or is he here as some test to see which of us was really the problem all this time? Which one is the weakest and struggles with crossing boundaries more? To prove how much he got in my way by being here?
He’s already losing if that’s the case, because I’m not the one who stayed away. I’m not the one who gave up on us. I was never influenced to do anything I didn’t want to do. Does he really think being engaged will erase what my heart’s been carrying for him all these years? Not a day has gone by where I haven’t messaged him to tell him I was thinking about him. Not one single day. He didn’t ever answer, but I hoped he at least read everything I sent him, and I hope that’s the real reason he’s here.
“Family is important,” Glen says as he drops me off in front of my house, brushing soft lips over my chin. “And I can tell how much you missed him.”
Could he really?
I hated him for leaving, but I hate him even more coming back. For reminding me of what I’ve lost. Of what he’s been keeping from us because of other people’s opinions. He let them keep us apart. He didn’t bother to ask me if it’s what I needed, he just assumed it was. I only needed him. Three more days and he’ll be gone again. He’ll be back at the farm and I’ll be planning my wedding. Will he show up to the ceremony? Will he ask to dance with me at the reception?
After kissing Glen back, I hurry inside. I watch from the window as he drives away and reach for my phone. No new messages or calls. Why would there be? Pretty much everyone I know was out with us tonight. I guess I thought maybe afterseeing me in person after all this time, Jace would finally answer my messages.
Tapping the screen, I search for his name. I write a message and delete it before writing another. After continuous back and forth, I finally hit send.
Me: Why are you really here?
My heart jumps when dots dance across the screen, and then they disappear leaving behind a sinking sensation in my stomach. I keep checking my phone the rest of the night—before showering, after dressing in comfortable clothes, and while I’m lounging on the couch watching reruns ofReba.
I want to know why he’s really here. I’m not buying his reasons. If he’d truly cared about me being happy he would have joined me at university like he was supposed to. He would have shown up at the apartment I set up for us, helping me choose better curtains after telling me how awful my first choice was. We’d have laughed and kissed. He’d have tucked hair behind my ear and tugged me closer to him, right before our bodies stayed locked together for hours as we lay naked under the covers.
Fuck, I miss him. My heart pains and I rest my head against the suede cushion, blowing out a loud sigh. I saw him today and still miss him. He wasn’t necessarily cold, but distant. Proof he hasn’t found his way back to me yet. Will he ever? He said he’ll be going to dinner tomorrow. Since Glen won’t be there, will he be more like he used to be? At least the brother side of him, or my best friend who’d cover my eyes during scary scenes? The guy who’d order different food than me so we could eat off each other’s plates? Would he buy packs of Starbursts so he could purposely save me all the orange ones?
Yeah, I miss him. I really, really do. And at this point I’ll take what he gives me if it means I get to have him in my life somehow. In some fucking way. His short answers and small talk are better than the silence that’s stood between us for toolong. Occasional dinners during special occasions will at least lead to us sitting at the same table again, if only once every few years. They aren’t enough, though. I can try to make them be all I want, but the truth will always remain—I really can’t do this, and if he leaves again he might truly destroy me this time. My heart will be too broken for me to move forward with the man who actually fought to keep me.
I really would be better off if Jace hadn’t come back at all.
Twenty-One
I kept going back to his message all night long, beginning to write some bullshit answers several times, and hitting delete before finishing each one. I’m hiding from the truth myself. I can give him all the answers I’ve told myself but I’ll be leaving out the main reason every time.
I’m here because I want his perfect boyfriend to be more wrong for him than I am. It’s fucked up. This doesn’t mean I don’t want the best for him, because I do. He deserves everything good in the world but I can’t stop wanting to be the one to give it to him. But what if everyone else is right and I really can’t? What if Prince Charming really is the better option?
Then I’ll be on my way, and go back to keeping my distance. He hasn’t stopped sending me messages, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself from unblocking him to confirm whether he had. I also missed those “I need you” messages too much. Those words are being said less and less these days, though.
Is it because he’s saying them to someone else now? Is Glen truly all he needs? Why did he look so lost and sad then? Whydid the love between them only appear to be one-sided? Did me being so close make him feel bad for showing his true feelings for Glen?
When I arrive at my parents’ house, the sun has gone from hot to boiling on my exposed skin. Everything is exactly how I remember. Blue flowers appear from the bushes under the windows, and a brown wooden rocking chair sits on the faded-blue porch with a pillow held up against the armrest, reading “Home Sweet Home.” The pink stone path leading to the house holds a few cracks and wear, and I pick up my strides when the front door opens.
The pillow’s words have never felt more true when I gaze into a pair of stunned blue eyes I could get lost in for days.
“What are you doing here?” Nate straightens his neck, holding on tightly to the gold door knob as if needing it to help him stay up right.
“I told you I was coming for dinner,” I say, inching closer and staring down at his unmoving hand blocking me from entering the house and escaping the thickening heat.
“Yes, but dinner isn’t for another few hours. You’re really early.”
“And so are you.” I smile smugly. “What can I say? I hate hotel rooms and wanted to see if my old room really was still the same.”
“It is,” he snaps, anger vibrating through his words. I don’t blame him. I told him I’d always be here for him but I haven’t been in a long time. Watching from a distance wasn’t good enough, and he’s letting me know that with his short responses and daggering stares.
“You going to let me see for myself, or what?” My lips curl and he nods, stepping back.
“Be my guest. Mom and Dad won’t be home from work for a while. I only had one virtual appointment today since the second person canceled on me.”
“Virtual appointment? Does that mean you went on to being a therapist after all?”
“Yes. Some of us stay true to our words.” He slams the door shut behind me, shaking the pictures on the walls. None of them have me in them and I feel like I’ve intruded on the wrong family. Nate is smiling with Glen in one and fishing with Dad in another.
