Page 200 of Falling Backwards
—just like when we were sixteen.
I vividly remember us being that young and this amused.
And I’m not rattled like I was earlier today when I was recalling that time in our lives.I’m only eager to pause the show and guide Maggie’s face close enough to mine that I can press kisses to her grin-touched cheek.
Because actually, this ismorethan it was back then.
Weare more than we were.
Knowing that reminds me to remind her in the spirit of Thanksgiving, “I’m thankful as hell for you.”
“I’m so thankful for you, too, Luke,” she replies.Her face turns and lifts so she can, to my pleasant surprise, smack a kiss onto my forehead.
Damn.Who apparently loves forehead kisses?This guy.
“And….”Her laughter fully fades and she hesitates, looks over my face but not into my eyes, takes hold of my hands where they’re still on her face.I can feel the blush coming to her cheeks.
Voice gentling, I ask, “What?”
Her voice comes out more delicately too.“I—I’m also thankful for…Kyle.Before him, I…to tell the truth, I felt these nudges about you, and I heard these little whispers in my head, but who knows how long it would’ve taken me to stop ignoring them if we hadn’t come together because of him?”
The admission reaches into me.
At last, her eyes touch mine, full of green softness.“Who knows how long it would’ve taken me to get back to you?”
Too long,some part of me knows.
I have a feeling my voice isn’t going to come out very strongly, but I still have to make my own admission.“I guess I’m thankful for him, too, ’cause I wonder the same thing about myself, and the answer I have sucks.”
She nods a little, then whispers, “It would’ve takentoolong?”
The exact thing I thought.
“Yes,” I whisper back.
One corner of her mouth curves up in a tiny, sweet, shy hint of a smile.
It fits how I feel about what we’ve said.I didn’t know Maggie had those nudges and whispers, but I know I did.Truly, when would I have decided to listen to them if an outside influence hadn’t come up?Months?Years?Ever?
I’m reminded of what my mom said about us earlier—that things between us were ready to change whenever we were ready to make room for them to.The truth of that still makes a crazy amount of sense.
I finally give Maggie a little smile of my own and say, “I’ll never tellhimI’m thankful for his bullshit, though.”
“No, never,” she agrees.A single light laugh moves her shoulders, so different from the laughter we were in a minute ago.
But one of her hands leaves where it’s been holding mine and she slips her fingertips down my cheek, and between that touch and the look in her eyes, I can tell her warm happiness hasn’t gone anywhere.
Neither has mine.
I’m still glad when that heartier laughter bubbles up in her again, though, because the moment we were having before was so fun and funny and here’s another thing I’ll never do: get tired of having times like that with her.I want all of them forever.I want us to be silly and open and close forever.
Smiling, I ask, “You laughing at the show again?”
She nods.“Yes.Can we go back and rewatch that one part?”
“Oh, we can, and we will.”
And we do.
