Page 74 of Crossroads
“The dorms are open, and they have some sort of dinner for everyone who can’t go home for the holiday.”
“Okay, good.” I hate how calm he sounds because I know he’s disappointed. But he’s trying to be strong for me. “Christmas. We’ll have Christmas.”
I nearly choke on a sob and almost lose it. “I don’t want to wait another month. I want you now. I can’t do this anymore, Jasper. I...”
“Hey, Em. Breathe for me.” His tone is soothing, and I try to do what he says, but it feels like I’m panicking. It hurts to breathe. “Listen to me. You have me. I promise you, you have me. You’ve had me since you walked into my life in those shiny white shoes.”
A watery laugh leaves my throat. “You have to let the shoes go.”
“Never,” he says in that perfect Jasper teasing tone. “It’s going to be okay.”
I shake my head again, wiping at the falling tears. What the hell? I’ve never been a crier, but all of a sudden, I’m a weeping fool for this man. “Maybe I could just come home. Quit, you know? I can go to school there.”
“Don’t you dare.” He’s not being cruel, but his words cut through me anyway. “You love it there, Emerson. This is your dream.”
“I want you. That’s my new dream. Everything else can fall into place.”
“No,” he says clearly. “You’re going to finish college there. You have to do this. It will get easier.”
“I don’t want to be with anyone else, and I don’t want you with anyone else,” I say for the first time. “I want to call you my boyfriend and mean it wholeheartedly. I want you. Selfishly and fully. I. Want. You. I love you.”
He’s quiet for so long that I nearly crack right here in the airport and beg him to love me too because I can’t call the words back. I’ve been holding onto them for so long. “I love you too, Emerson.” Before I can tell him he doesn’t have to say it just because I did, he goes on. “I love you more than anything in this world. I think about you all the time. You have me. I don’t want anyone else, and the thought of anyone touching you makes me homicidal.” That pulls a quick, surprised laugh from me, and I can see him grinning, even though I can’t actually see him right now. So proud of himself. “We’re together. Okay? You and me forever. But that doesn’t mean that you get to quit school and come here and give up a huge piece of yourself for me.”
“But I would.”
“I know,” he says. “I know you would. But that’s not love. That’s not the kind of love I want for us. I want you to have everything you want and know I’m right there with you, even when I can’t be physically there with you.”
“Four years is a long time,” I say because we’re young. I know that in the back of my head. I never wanted to get married and have a life with someone. That was never in my plans. I wanted many things but never that, and now I know, without a doubt, I’d rearrange my whole life to be with him and never look back.
“We’ll make it work. I promise. You trust me?”
“More than anyone in my life,” I answer honestly.
“Okay. Drive back to your dorm safely, eat shitty dorm turkey, and I’ll see you by Christmas. I promise.”
I close my eyes and choke back more tears. “Okay. I love you.” I say it because I can and because I want to hear him say it again.
“I love you too.”
And for now, that soothes my soul enough to go on.
But I don’t know how long I can go without being with the man I love. Nothing else seems to matter as much anymore.
THIRTY-TWO
I can’t do this anymore.
That thought runs through my head over and over as I eat quietly with my family. Kelly sent food with me over to my parents’ house with strict instructions to sit down with them and enjoy the holiday as a family.
It’s been awkward and quiet the whole time—with the exception of Logan, who’s always hyper and running around happily.
My dad and I haven’t talked at all, and I’m okay with that right now. My thoughts are firmly on Emerson—my boyfriend.
A hot sort of thrill fills me at the label. It feels good. Really damn good. And it’s incredible having finally been able to say the wordsI love youto him and him say it to me.
Because I do love him. There’s no question.
And I can’t do this anymore.
