Page 54 of Winter Break Up

Her jaw falls open. “You’re calling me the coward? I’m not the one who wants to hide an entire relationship from Charlie so that he doesn’t lose his wittle best friend.”

She’s resorting to baby talk, which shows how far deep in the trenches of ridiculous arguing she’s willing to dig us.

“Emily, I’m warning you. You don’t want to open this can of worms.” My voice is deadly quiet, but she keeps on pushing.

“But wait, we’re not in a relationship. I forgot. I had to propose a winter fling to get you to even look in my direction. I’m just your side piece while passing through town, isn’t that right? Clyde was right when he said you were biding your time until models and social media THOTs came back into your world. Was this just your way of getting back at me for the high school breakup? Hook up with me to show just how damn unforgettable you are? Get me hook, line, and sinker so that I’d regret every choice I made back then?”

“You’re the one who just wanted a winter break fling! That’s what this whole thing was. You broke my heart once upon a fucking time, and the fling rule was set in place so you couldn’t do it again. Well, that didn’t fucking work, now did it!” I throw my hands up, anger flaring from every nerve ending.

“And there it is. Finally! We’ve been walking on eggshells and now the truth comes out!” She rages right back.

So much for being cold. We could practically light this snow on fire with our tempers.

“Oh, don’t talk to me about the truth. You’ve been keeping your mouth shut just the same as I have. Neither one of us wanted to rattle the cage.” I point an accusatory finger at her.

“Fine! So what if I have? If this was the only way I could have you after admitting I made a mistake breaking us up, then I was jumping at the chance. If we only get this month, this Christmas, then I wanted it.”

“You don’t want just this month. If we’re being honest, be one hundred percent,” I challenge, folding my arms over my chest.

Because she’s the one who chickened out last time, and if we’re making confessions, I need her to go first. I need to hear that she’s serious before I put my heart on the line again.

“What do you mean?” Her eyes go wide.

“Tell me what you really want.” I’m tired of avoiding the subject.

I’m ready to put it all on the line, but the last time I did that or thought we were solid, she tore it all down. Emily has to be the one to say it first.

“We’re about to go back to school. Hundreds of miles apart, crazy schedules, the last semester before the real world … there are even more reasons not to be together now than there were when we finished high school. Not to mention your soccer schedule, my hours at the hospital—”

“Those are all excuses. Just like the last time. What do you want, Emily?”

“What do you want? You’re the one with endless options coming your way. Why would you want to be tied down?” She throws the question right back.

My entire body wants to plead with her, so I take her gloved hands in mine and try to shake some sense into her.

“No, you don’t get to deflect right now. Tell me you want me. Tell me you’re in love with me, that you’ve never stopped. Tell me that you’ve been miserable for the last three and half years without me. Tell me that you found your soulmate when you were sixteen and just got spooked because we were so young. Tell me that the past few weeks have been the best of your adult life, and that you don’t want them to end. Tell me that we can make this work, no matter what happens. Tell me that it’s you and me forever. The two of us making some crazy hectic life together. That’s what I want to hear. That’s what I want.”

Teardrops slide down Em’s cheeks, and I brush them away before they can freeze on her skin. So much for making her admit her feelings first. I just put my heart on a silver platter for her, and she might slice it open with a steak knife. I can’t regret it, though, since I’ve been waiting years to word vomit that to her. At least she knows now, and I won’t have any regrets about not making my intentions crystal clear.

A beat passes. It feels like an entire three-hundred and sixty-five days packed into those few seconds, that’s how long it feels like Emily is silent. Then she blinks up at me through those impossibly long lashes.

“Of course, that’s what I want.” Her voice is so quiet that I nearly miss it.

But my heart doesn’t. My heart soars at the whispers; the organ somewhere up in the cloudy gray sky it’s full of so much hope.

“Emily, I—”

“But how are we supposed to make that work? It’s too complicated, Mercer.” She shakes her head.

Those three little words are just on the tip of my tongue, but once again, she is doubting us. It makes me want to sink into myself, to not put anything on the line ever again.

“It’s only complicated if we make it that way. To me, this is the simplest thing in the world. I want to be with you, you want to be with me. Whatever comes our way, we figure it out.”

“We’ll be long-distance for who knows how long.” She chews on her lip.

Her second-guessing starts to poison me against trying to convince her we could overcome any obstacle.

“Fine, you know what? If you want to throw up every roadblock, then stick with those. Hold them close to your chest, use them as your safety blankets. You were too scared to give us a chance back then, and I guess that’s the same conclusion you’re reaching once again. Don’t expect me to wait around if you’re ready to stop being a goddamn coward.”

---