Page 155 of Falling Backwards
But even in my own head, I know that word is a lie; if it were true, I wouldn’t see softness in her eyes when I shift up enough to look at her.
I wouldn’t have seen, felt, heard all kinds of things from her lately.
What’s been happening to me has been happening to her.We’ve been doingeverythingto each other, bit by bit, layer by layer, day by day.
“So I….”Cheeks pink, she hesitates.“I’m not the only one who…feels so much?”
The question heightens my nervousness a bit.Nevertheless, this time when I shake my head, it’s a true answer.
And I grate out more truth yet because it, too, refuses to be held in: “I don’t know where the room for feeling so much even came from.It wasn’t there before.”
She’s quiet at first.Then she sighs, “I know what you mean.”
The vague reminder of our resentment towards each other has her hold on my arm loosening, has my fingers by her face curling away from where they’ve been touching her.
This is the girl who broke my trust and stomped on my heart—sure, it happened years ago, but it still happened.And it hurt like hell.
Facts that don’t touch how much I hurt her first.
But none of it changes how I feel about the way she looks from our kisses, or how badly I still want to kiss her again.It doesn’t change that I love how big I made her laugh a couple minutes ago or that I’ve loved everything else good we’ve ended up sharing.
I don’t know what to do with all of that, but there it is.
We lie here in silence for several more seconds, just studying each other, and then my phone starts vibrating over on the kitchen bar.After another moment, Maggie reluctantly murmurs that I should check it.Just as reluctantly, I sit up and away from her, my body rather sore from how I was situated; I know I wouldn’t take back a bit of it.
Once we’ve clambered off the couch, she takes her purse in the direction of the bathroom, leaving me to pause halfway to my phone because of how unfairly good she looks in my sweatpants.
She disappears and I hear the door close and I mutter, “God help me,” about the pants and everything else.Then I add to myself, “Are you serious, dude?You officially have a crush on her again?How can that be?It’s Magnolia fucking Moss.”
Saying it out loud doesn’t make it sound stupid, though.
And it’s not even accurate, because…
…well, calling it a crush doesn’t do this feeling justice.At all.
And what I feel isn’t exactly like what I felt back then—my thoughts from a minute ago were right about that.Saying it’s here‘again’implies that it’s the same now as it used to be, but that’s not true.There are things here that weren’t there before.New connections and conversations.New levels of trust, warmth, closeness, attraction.She’s more than she was and so am I.
We’vegrown up.
I’ve missed the call by the time I get to my phone, so I check the notification—and my stomach gives a hard, unpleasant dip.
Jayden’s name is there.He’s who was calling, probably about the visit I’ve just remembered he’s planning on making.
Jayden.Jayden.
I don’t work on returning the call.My swirling thoughts are darkening with even more thoughts of past-me and past-Maggie.I relive flickers of everything.
And for the first time in a long, long time, I recall what Jayden said in response to how upset I was about how badly things ended:‘Dude, man up and get over it.It’s not like she actually fucking matters.’
But she d—
I jump as the notification of his voicemail pops onto my phone screen.
The thought of hearing him talk makes my stomach feel outright sour.I don’t want to hear his voice.
Then a new notification comes up—one for a text from someone else.I do tap on that to open it in full.
AUNT JONI:Hi, dear.Just wanted to say I love you and I hope you’re doing well
