Page 157 of Falling Backwards
Maggie slips a long look to my phone, and I wonder now if she’s wondering about the phone call that interrupted us before.
Don’t ask me who called.Please.I don’t wanna lie, but I don’t wanna talk about Jayden either.I don’t want him anywhere near you, not even the subject of him.
When she looks at me again, a gentle smile turns up the corners of her lips.All she says is, “I’m happy you feel better.”Her smile wilts back into an expression of sad compassion.“But…I’m so sorry about the holiday card.”
Again with her looking like she has more to say.
This time, the fear I feel has anxiety twisted up with it.
What if she tries to counter my rule-breaking kiss with breaking our rule about not bringing up topics that’ll end in an argument?What if she tries to talk about the past?Am I ready for that?Areweready for it?What if it damages what we’ve built up because she still can’t forgive me and I’ll decide I don’t want to forgive her?I can see in hindsight that kissing her was a big enough risk, and we’ve barely even talked about that, about how our feelings for each other have obviously changed—we definitely haven’t talked about where we want to go from here.
But what if she wants to talk and itdoesn’tblow us up?a calmer voice in my head offers.What if we do forgive each other?What if everything has been happening the way it needed to for us to move on and so it’s okay if our biggest rules are being challenged?Things aren’t the same right now as they were when we started this—and they aren’t the same as they were eight years ago.
I know which of those scenarios I prefer.
Without a doubt, I know it.
But is it really possible for us?And if it is, how do we start that conversation?How do we take the first step?
Or have we already taken it?
She clears her throat and my heart jumps into mine.
“Um,” she says, “thank you so much for letting me borrow your sweatpants.They were the best.A little big on me, but super comfortable.”
I’m glad for the distraction from my wild thoughts.I was about to start drowning in them.
I decide to take her change of subject as a sign that this is not the right time to get started on all that other stuff.
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” I reply.After a beat: “Theylookedthe best on you.A hell of a lot better than they look on me.”
She chuckles deeply.“Oh, no way.”
Jesus Christ, her laughter….
I’m torn right in two between rushing her for another kiss and controlling my-damn-self when she clears her throat again.
“Hey, do—do you wanna try making eggs Benedict?”
Another good distraction.
Hoping I don’t sound as breathless as I feel, I point at her and confirm, “Yes.Yes, I do.”
Well, I don’t quite soundnormal.
But she puts on a smile and says, “Let’s go get the stuff, then,” and I notice she doesn’t either.
I’m not the only one who’s torn on how to feel about this place we’ve found ourselves in.
As I head for my bedroom so I can change clothes, I have to wonder how long we’ll teeter here—and where we’ll land when we fall.
M A G G I E
“Gosh,” I sigh as I return to my stand from seating Mrs.Matthews and her husband for their golden anniversary dinner.Not only are they an inspiring sight to behold, but I somehow still feel full from the eggs Benedict that Luke and I made for a late lunch,andmy body is tired from the HIIT workout we decided to do before that.
Thinking back on the workout makes me giggle both with happiness and sympathy.Yes,wedid it.Together.Luke gave it a shot with me.Proud of him though I was, I could tell how hard it was for him and I remembered how especially hard it was for me the first time I did it.
