“No. I’ve been talking to my therapist, and we both decided that if I have someone who I trust—who I love—then I’m healed enough to go forward.”
Who I love.
I believe Jenna loves me. She always has, just as I’ve always loved her.
She just doesn’t know I took my feelings a step further eight years ago when I fellinlove with her.
Part of me is ecstatic that she never had sex with that asshole Lucas Fisher. She was always too good for him.
Perhaps it could’ve worked for us all those years ago. Perhaps she was feeling the same way around that time.
Perhaps…
“You’re going to have to take the lead here, Jen. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re such a wonderful man, Max. How I wish I’d been here the last eight years to see you grow into what you’ve become. Always the gentleman.” She reaches toward me but then pulls her hand away. “But I don’t know what to do. For all intents and purposes, I have no experience, so I needyouto take the lead. Can you do that for me?”
10
JENNA
He doesn’t answer me right away, and I’m not surprised.
People walk on eggshells around me, and I understand their reticence. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t know how to act either.
But I’m alive. Alive and miraculously healthy considering what I’ve been through. I need to move forward. I’m determined not to let the experience color my entire life. I worked hard during that grueling year of intensive therapy, and I found out a lot of things about myself. First, I’m stronger than I ever believed I was.
And second? Those dreams I had for my life? They’re still valid. I’m still going to go to college. It’ll be different for sure. I’m going to study social sciences and learn to help abused women instead of studying law. Plus, I missed out on those four post-high-school years where you get to be independent without really being independent. Where you get to go to sorority rushes and frat parties and keggers on campus.
I mourned that loss, and now I’m ready to move on.
I still want marriage. I still want a family. And to have those things?
I’m going to have to have sex.
I reach forward tentatively and touch the corded muscle of Max’s forearm.
He jolts a bit at my touch.
“You’re a very attractive man, Max,” I tell him.
“Thank you. I think.”
“I mean it. You came into your own in high school, and I never really understood why you didn’t date more seriously. But now? My God. You’re male model handsome.”
He looks down at his lap. “Don’t lie to me, Jenna.”
I open my mouth to apologize until I realize I’m not lying.
Max Robinson is as handsome a man as I’ve ever seen.
“Look at me,” I say. “Look me in the eye.”
He returns his gaze to mine, and his dark eyes are burning.
“I’m not lying, Max. Have you ever known me to lie to you?”
“No, but it’s been a while.”