Page 253 of Falling Backwards
No, not just quieting—it’s dwindling, subsiding, leaving.
There are no words to describe how welcome the still quietude that’s growing in its place is.
But other words are building on my tongue.
“You used to feel like my safe place,” I tell him.“And then you didn’t anymore.I was so messed up about it, Luke, and then we didn’t talk at all after everything went to hell, and then years went by and things just got tucked away, not better.Then we started working together and all that resentment came back up, and you still didn’t feel safe to my soul—there was no more laughter or comfort or—” My throat tightens.“There was just…abrasion.And animosity.And us feeling like we couldn’t stand each other.”
I can tell he feels the echoes of those things just like I do; he’s wincing, nodding again.
“But,” I say softly, “you were still there when I needed you.When I needed help with Kyle, when I needed protecting.And I realized I did still feel safe with you.And the more time we spent together….I didn’t realize how much I missed you until you were a little bit mine again, and then you werereallymine, not pretending because of Kyle or some stupid bet.Yet things werestilltucked away.”
I absorb his perfect face, his unguarded eyes.The promise of peace is there; his chaos has gone too.
I refuse to spend another second not promising peace back to him.
“I don’t wanna carry our mistakes around with us anymore.For real this time.”I pause, then add with a swell of that peace through my body, “They’re not tucked away anymore.We’ve faced them.Now I’m ready to put them down if you are.”
In the space of a breath, his hands are away from mine, one cupping my cheek and the other sliding under my hair to the side of my neck.Sweet tingles explode beneath the touches and I can’t keep in a soft breath of a gasp, can’t keep from tilting my face into his palm.
“I’m ready,” he tells me.“I want you.I want us to have what we would’ve had if I hadn’t been stupid.”
The smile I give in to wobbles slightly.“Or if I’d been able to trust that you were sorry, instead of harming you too.”
His lips curve into a smile that is also a little wobbly.
That gaze is steady, though, just like mine is.
I recall the night we decided to stop pretending to date, when he said he didn’t want to reclaim our old good days but wanted to move ahead and be happy together as we are now.It sounded right, but in this moment, I agree with thatandwith what he has just said.It’s okay to yearn for both because weareboth.
I have to say as much.“I want what we would’ve had, too, and I also want what we do have.”
And I wonder if I need to explain what I mean by that—he may not be connecting the dots—but I only wonder it for short seconds.
“You took the words out of my mouth,” he says.“I said that thing a second ago and then remembered kind of saying the opposite when we became a real couple.I was just about to tell you I actually want it both ways.”
Just like that, the boy has me grinning.
He’s instantly copying me again and Iloveit, love the contagiousness, the warmth.
I love the ease.
For the first time in years, I look at Luke Bramhill and I feel an uninterrupted, untainted, undeniable sense of ease.
His voice comes again, gently.
“I have to say it to you one more time, though: I’m sorry for what I did to you when I was young and stupid.I’m sorry I involved you in Jayden’s terrible game and caused you that pain.I’vebeensorry and I would take it back if I could.It killed me that I hurt you, and if I could, I would take it back and be smarter and better.And I know apologizing doesn’t undo anything.I explained myself, but it doesn’t excuse me.Still, I need you to know that aside from telling you you’re my ten and that you completely own my heart, this apology is the truest thing I’ve ever said.”
More sentiments I feel all the way through myself.
I finally move a hand from his chest, lift it to curl my fingers against his jaw.His eyes fall closed with relief I share in.
“I believe you,” I murmur.“And I forgive you.Youownmyheart, Luke.You’re my ten too.”
My fingertips slip up the side of his face, over his temple, into his hair; he nuzzles them and I swear I feel a faint shiver go through his body.It completes some tiny part of me.
I add, “I’msorry again.I’m forever sorry for the flyers—for the lies and for the one truth I never should’ve shared.I don’t feel anymore like those things were fair.Even though I was suffering, I didn’t have to choose spite and revenge.I’m sorry I chose those things becauseIwas young and stupid.”
He reopens his eyes into mine.His thumb goes over my cheekbone, and back, and forth, delicately.
