Page 113 of The Sound Of Silence

“How long before I hate you?” I joke, and love that it gets me the smallest of smirks before it fades.

“No need to rush it. It’s coming,” he says, something in his tone telling me he means every word. Or at the very least, he truly believes it will happen.

“Ready to make a move,” Ryan says, smiling between the two of us. He’s either completely oblivious of the tension, or Pippa’s told him everything and asked him to run interference.

“Yep,” Jesse says, banging the roof with his palm before opening the driver's door.

“Why does this feel like the end when it’s only the beginning?” I ask, unable to hide the quiver in my voice.

Jesse frowns, and while his eyes remain locked on mine, I can see he’s lost in thought. A beat passes between us before he smiles. “I’ll be back,” he says in a strange accent.

He’ll be back?I swallow a lump in my throat and press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, hoping to chase away the emotions threatening to break free. That has to mean something, right? He wants to come back. For me? Or—

Realization hits me, and I fall against Pippa’s car as I burst out laughing. “You didn’t?” I ask, my words coming out mid giggle.

“I did.” Jesse’s smile widens with his admission before he winks, killing any chance I had of walking away with my heart intact. He just quotedThe Terminatormovie, and if that doesn’t make me fall even harder…I’m screwed.

Throwing my head back, I laugh louder, no longer thinking about what he did, so much as laughing at the fucked-up situation. This is the most real I’ve felt in years, and it took a complete stranger to bring it out of me.

“Remember that smile,” Jesse says when I’ve calmed down, his eyes ablaze as they flash to my mouth, his stare heating my chest. “Because God knows I won’t forget it.”

Reaching between us, he subtly squeezes my hand before sliding into the car. It takes every ounce of my will power not to climb in on top of him and kiss him goodbye, but thankfully Ryan’s there to thwart that plan.

With a nod, Jesse pulls his door closed, and the motion snaps the invisible thread between us. Breaking my heart. I force myself to walk away, needing to escape before the first tear falls, but Jesse calls out just as I’ve taken my first step.

“Chin up, Buttercup.”

For the rest of the day, I go through the motions, playing my part in society, falling back into the life I had before. But by the time six o’clock hits, I’m sick of pretending.

He might be home by now.

His parting words are like a broken record, running on repeat in my head. Not because they’re meaningful, but because they’re not. At all. It’s just some cliché saying. And yet, something about them feels familiar. To me. Not just in general.

“Chin up, Buttercup.”

I can’t help wondering if there’s something I’m missing, a deeper meaning to the phrase, and the more I stew over it, the more anxious I become.

Of course I’d finally meet someone that evokes my emotions, only to have him leave. Of course it would be complicated, forbidden, and messed up.

Why can’t I find it in me to date someone from here in town? Life would be so much easier if I could.

Instead, I just packed up my heart and sent it on a haphazard journey to San Francisco, while I stay behind, continuing on in my mediocre existence.

My last thought angers me, and I find myself hating every little detail of my life. Things I've never even questioned before. Is this where I saw myself when I was younger? Is a small-town business owner what I aspired to be? No. The answer is a resounding no. Because that’s something I remember. I remember I had hopes and dreams of leaving this place. I just haven’t found the drive to go after them.

Damn you, Jesse.

Why couldn’t you have just been like the rest of the town and coddled me, never allowing me to open my eyes. Never allowing me to question what’s out there.

Because now they’re wide open and I want more. More of him. More of the world. More of myself.

Pulling out my phone, I text Jesse to let him know how I feel. No longer caring about the bullshit rules of dating, no longer questioning if I should wait.

Willow: You’re right, I hate you. I wish we’d never met.

Translation: I miss you.

More than I should.

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