Page 74 of Salvation
“You say it like I’m sure I know what makes me happy. Maybe what I’m chasing isn’t it.”
My mom chuckles like I’m a stand-up comedian delivering my punch line. “Oh,she’sit, alright. You’ve been chasing Ivy Cunningham since the first time you ever laid eyes on her. Don’t think I didn’t see how you looked at her the last time I saw you together. And don’t think I didn’t notice that missing ring on her finger, either. Fight for her, Campbell, because she is your happiness. That much has always been obvious.”
There’s no use denying what she’s saying because it would just make a liar out of me. Ivy is my very definition of happiness, and that definition has grown to include Willow, too. But I’mterrified of fumbling both of them and finding myself back in the dark. Alone.
“And what if I’m not her happiness? What then?”
I’ve never heard my mother snort, but that’s her response to my question. My eyes widen when the snort turns into a full-on cackle, and I start to worry that she might be possessed.
Pressing one hand to her stomach, she swipes at her eyes, knocking away tears. “Now that was funny, son. Have you seen how that girl looks at you?”
“Um—no?”
With an exasperated sigh, she rolls her eyes and mutters, “Men,” under her breath. Louder, she says, “Honey, she looks at you the same way you look at her—like you’re the thing that lights up her life. So fight for it, Campbell, with everything you have.”
“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am,” I say, lifting my hand and saluting her with an easy grin to ease the tension this conversation has sent thrumming through my veins. It’s a habit. When things turn serious, I make a joke, but I’ve since realized that I’ve been using it to hide behind. I no longer want to hide, so I clear my throat, letting my smile slip away, and meet her gaze. “I promise I will, Mom.”
A mischievous spark twinkles in her eyes, reminding me of the twins. I get a little nervous when a sly smile slips onto her lips. “Good, and you can start right now because Ivy just walked out her door with several moving boxes in her hand.”
“What?” Panic hits me square in the chest, and I turn my head to look out the window above the kitchen sink. Sure enough, Ivy is walking down her back drive toward her car with a box big enough to hide her face from me. That panic turns into ice-cold fear.
Blindly shoving the drying towel in my mom’s direction, I take off running toward the patio doors, but my mom’s voice stops me before I’m fully gone.
“Wait, Campbell, I have just the thing to help win her over.”
She walks to the other side of the kitchen, and I bounce my foot against the tile, glancing out the glass door to assure myself that Ivy hasn’t gotten in her car and driven away yet. When my mom returns to my side of the kitchen, she’s carrying a container of cookies in her hand with a bright smile on her face. “Go fight for your happiness, Campbell.”
I swallow, terrified of what I’m about to do, and take the cookies from her. “Yes, ma’am.”
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With the cookies in hand, I don’t waste any time getting out the door and sprinting across my parents’ yard to where Ivy is loading the box into her trunk. By the time I make it to her, I’m sweating and breathing hard, not because I’m out of shape, but because my nerves are on the verge of sending me into a panic attack. So I force myself to take a deep breath before calling out her name.
Her head whips up, turning to look at me, and I’m hit with the force of her honey eyes. They will forever be my favorite color, no matter how many seconds pass.
“Don’t leave,” I beg before she can get a word out. I need to get this out now because if I don’t, I might find a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t. So I press on, laying everything on the line. “Don’t leave, Ivy, because I can’t breathe without you. I’ve been trying to for years, and it wasn’t until you showed up back on my doorstep again that I felt like I finally got a good breath. Don’t leave because I can make you happy—I swear I’ll make you happy. Every day, I’ll do whatever it takes. Don’t leave because I love you, and I’ve been loving you since I was nine years old. Just please, don’t leave.”
The last part slips out unbidden. I hadn’t planned on confessing my love to her, but somewhere in the middle of me begging, I realized I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. By the end of my plea, I’m breathing hard with my heart trying to beat through my chest as I wait.
She stares back at me for a long moment, her eyes flicking between mine. Fear creeps in, bringing some of the numbness I hate so much with it, but when she launches herself into my arms, pressing her lips against mine, it slips away, letting the light in.
I drop the cookies to the ground and catch her, wrapping my arms around her and holding her so close that I don’t know where I start and she begins. Although I think every part of me has always begun with her.
Ivy gasps, but instead of kissing me deeper, she pulls away, shaking her head.
“Wait, Campbell,” she gasps again, “wait—I–I’m sorry.”
Two words, and I shatter right there at her feet. I drop my arms from her waist and step back, placing space between us, all while my entire body screams to feel her pressed against me again.
Scrubbing at the back of my neck, I try to wipe away the sting of her rejection. I don’t look at her. I can’t. I’m barely holding myself together. “I should go. I’m sorry.”
“Campbell,” Ivy says, her voice sad. I wish I could take back everything I just said because this feels like losing her again, and that’s not something Iwantto survive.
“It’s okay, Ivy. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
I take one step back and then another, needing to get out of here before I fall apart, but when I make the mistake of lifting my head, unable to stop myself from getting one more look at her, I freeze. Conflict mars her pretty face, a war playing out in hereyes. And as bad as it sounds, that war gives me hope because it means at least a part of her feels this, too.
“I can’t do this, Campbell. Not with you,” Ivy denies, but this time, instead of listening to the words she’s saying, I watch her instead. Her bottom lip trembles before she tucks it between her teeth, and she avoids looking at me. But it’s not enough to hide the tears sparkling in her eyes. That hope grows wider.
