Page 42 of Texting My Moms Ex

This is getting too damn hard,his message reads.If you ignore this, I’ll understand, but I want you to know I’m thinking of you.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I whisper with awe in my voice. “He said he’s thinking of me. How should I reply?”

“The truth,” Natasha says firmly.

It could be a mistake—it almost definitelyisone—but I follow my friend’s advice.

I’ve thought of you nonstop since I asked you to back off. I mean it, Jax. Every single second, you’ve been in my thoughts. Maybe I’m telling you this to scare you off. Maybe you’ll back off if you know how badly I want—no, NEED—you.

That’s never going to happen because I need you, too. I need you so badly. It hurts being away from you.

The message is like a whirlpool dragging me in.

What changed? Why are you messaging me now?I ask, needing to know.

I’ve been talking with Peter.

Oh, God. That sounds bad. Is he going to tell Mom?

No, but he wants us to talk with Mallory. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think we should sit her down and explain that we want to date each other. Once she realizes what’s at stake, we can ask her permission to reveal what happened all those years ago.

Do you think she’ll tell us anything after that?

We have to try. The alternative hurts too much. I’ve been torturing myself, imagining you with other men, moving on, and finding somebody else. Even if that’s the right thing, it feels wrong. It feels like I’m betraying myself by not fighting for us.

I’m smiling more than I have all week.

“Good news?” Natasha asks.

“Probably not. We’re going to tell Mom about us. It’s probably the worst thing that could’ve happened.”

“Tell that to your face.”

I glance at her, both of us grinning.

“I should tell him no.”

“But you’re not going to.”

“No, I can’t.”

That could be an excuse, removing choice from myself, but I’m done pretending we can live without each other.

“It shouldn’t be enough,” I murmur. “Some texts, one half-a-date, some kissing, and some intimacy.”

“Enough for what?”

“For everything I feel, but it is, Nat. It’s more than enough. I know I want him, and sometimes, from how he speaks, I think he might want me too.Reallywant me as more than his girlfriend.”

Sometimes, it feels like he wants me forever.

“I say go for it,” Natasha says. “If it all goes wrong, you can blame me.”

“No, this is my choice.”

It could be the wrong one.

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