Page 35 of Always You

“Please. You could have any man you want,” I say, keeping a hint of laughter in my voice. It’s true. Devon is gorgeous. She’s long and slender—because of course she is. She’s a ballerina! Her skin is smooth and unblemished. And I’d commit a felony for her long, luscious hair. It’s wild to me that she manages to get all of it into a bun.

“I’d have to find a man worth the effort, though. I’m telling you, the men here in Boston are the absolute worst. They’re all players. I’d commit crimes for a Southern gentleman,” she says as she takes a massive bite of her mint chocolate chip ice cream and picks up the TV remote.

We spend so much time scrolling through movies and taking breaks to talk and laugh that we’re all finished with our ice cream by the time we finally decide on something to watch. It’s some cheesy romance movie that looks like it was made by Hallmark. Just what I was hoping for. I live for Hallmark movies, especially the Christmas ones.

I lie down on the bed and get myself comfortable, and before I know it, my eyes are heavy and droopy. I try to keep my eyes open and focus on the movie. I want to spend quality time with my sister. She’s right; we don’t get the chance to do stuff like this often. Time with her is precious, and I don’t want to spend it snoozing.

Josiah lies down beside me and pulls me into his side so that my head is nestled into that sweet spot in between his shoulder and neck. He smells woodsy and manly. I want to stay awake just so I can keep smelling him and feeling his chest rise and fall beneath my cheek with each breath he takes.

It’s impossible, though. Dinner with Devon’s friends completely wiped me out. I’m halfway in between sleep and wakefulness when the movie turns off. I want to protest, but I don’t have the energy to move or make a sound. “So, what exactly is going on between you and my sister?” Devon asks. Josiah’s arms tighten around me for a short second. I stay extra still because I want to hear his response. I’m scared he won’t answer if he knows I’m awake.

“She’s it for me. I’m going to marry her,” he says in the most assured tone I’ve ever heard, and my heart does somersaults in my chest before plummeting back down to Earth. How can he be so sure of everything while a million different doubts run through my mind? I love this man. There’s never been a doubt in my mind about that. I’ve always loved him, but sometime within the past few months, that love has shifted into something new—new and precious and scary. But also exciting. I want Josiah to be it for me more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. I can’t imagine myself with anyone else.

I was so sure that I was going to marry Brandon, though, and look at how that turned out. Not that Josiah is anything like Brandon. They’re as opposite as they could get, thank goodness. You just never know what’s going to happen or where life’s going to take you. Anything could happen, and I don’t want to get my hopes up about where this is headed. I don’t want to wind up heartbroken and humiliated again. Josiah doesn’t have any of those reservations, apparently.

The theater is packed with people all dressed to the nines, Josiah included. He’s wearing an all-black suit that looks like it was made specifically for his body. He looks absolutely delicious in it. I haven’t seen him this dressed up since senior prom eight years ago. I didn’t get to ooh and ahh over him that night like I do tonight. Another girl got the honor then, while I pretended that I didn’t care as she clung to his arm. But tonight, he’s all mine. I love being the one holding onto his arm, straightening his tie, and smoothing his lapels.

“You look so beautiful tonight that everyone is staring at us,” he leans down and whispers into my ear. I glance around to see what he’s talking about. People are staring, alright, but I seriously doubt it’s because of me. He looks like sin and sophistication in that suit, and it’s drawing the attention of every woman within a fifty-mile radius.

There’s no reason for anyone to be staring at me. I’m wearing one of the few cocktail dresses I own. I’ve had this one for years. I actually bought it for my grandparents’ fiftieth anniversary party, so it has a lot of bittersweet memories associated with it. I miss them. The dress is pretty, though. It’s black and flowy, and it has loose, sheer sleeves with fitted cuffs around the wrists. My shoes are to die for—no, literally. They’re gorgeous, but they’re killing my feet. If I could take them off and walk around barefoot without drawing a bunch of stares, I would. I hope we can get to our seats soon.

“You don’t believe me,” Josiah says.

“Why would anyone be looking at me? I didn’t even have time to properly do my hair!” I say, gesturing to the long, loose waves flowing around my shoulders. It’s how I typically wear my hair, but I wanted to do something a little nicer tonight. It’sa special occasion, so I wanted to look pretty for Josiah. At least I have my gold floral hair pins to give it something a little extra.

Josiah’s gaze scans over my face and my hair before meeting my eyes again. His eyes soften as he brushes my hair back and then cradles the back of my head in his gigantic hand. “You couldn’t possibly look more beautiful to me than you do right now,” he says.

I feel like swooning, but he drops a quick kiss to my temple before wrapping my arm around his and continuing down the corridor to the entrance of the theater. Right. We’re here to see a ballet, not put on a show for all the people milling about around us. And it’s not just any ballet—my sister is dancing the leading role.

Focus, Ellis. Focus.

We breeze through the crowd of people, and the next thing I know, we’re in our seats. They’re really good seats in the first mezzanine. We’ll be able to see the entire stage without worrying about a head blocking our view. I wonder if these seats were actually free for Devon or if she shelled out a fortune for me. Either way, I’m so excited to be here tonight, and I’m so happy Josiah is here with me. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t come. Pushed myself too hard to keep up with all of Devon’s plans all weekend, probably. That would have ended in disaster.

I simultaneously love that I can depend on him and hate how much I already do. It’s comforting knowing that someone will always have your back and put you first, but it’s scary to think about what my future would look like without him if something went horribly wrong.

If I allowed myself to fall even more than I already have and then lost him…it would be like losing my very heart. I don’t want to even think of what that would feel like. I can feel myheart crumbling in my chest now just considering it as a possibility. My entire life, he has been my soft place to land, and I think I’ve been the same for him. Where or who would we turn to if we didn’t have each other anymore? I know our families would try to fill that gap for us, but it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing would ever be the same again, and it’s scary to even imagine.

The lights in the theater dim, and the crowd hushes. Suddenly, the orchestra in the pit begins playing a lilting tune. After a minute, the curtains rise, and a ballerina dances around the stage…it’s Devon! I sit up straighter in my seat to see her better. She looks beautiful and young and graceful. I’ve never felt prouder. I don’t think I could be prouder if she were my daughter instead of my sister. My parents should be here watching her. They’d beam with pride. They’d walk around afterward telling anyone who would listen that their daughter is the star of the show.

I’ve never done anything to make them proud like that. I made good grades in school. They put the obligatory “My kid is on the A Honor Roll at Oak Grove Elementary” bumper sticker on their car when I was little, but that bumper sticker also applied to my sisters. We all made good grades. We were required to if we wanted to keep our Barbie dolls. Otherwise, we’d be left with just our stuffed animals to play with until our grades improved. It would have been horrible. You can’t accessorize stuffed animals or style their hair.

I’ve always wanted my parents to look at me the way they look at Devon when she’s dancing her heart out on the stage. My mom usually ends up crying because it makes her so happy. I’ve never made her cry tears of joy. Going to medical school would make them proud. I mean, just getting into med school is insanely difficult. Graduating and then completing aresidency would send my parents over the moon with pride and excitement.

In my head, I know they’re proud of me. I’m a college graduate—a nurse. I’m a productive member of society. I help people. But I’ve never accomplished anything out of the ordinary, and just once, I want to be the daughter that they brag to all their friends about.

I’d love to be able to tell people that I’ve made my way through med school and a rigorous residency, but there are so many other factors to consider with that. Do I really want to be an OB-GYN, or do I just want the bragging rights that come with it? I love working with women and babies. It’s the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done, but is becoming a doctor the best way for me to do that? There’s the fact that I don’t actually want to put myself through that much more school and years of stress. The school to become a certified nurse midwife is shorter, which makes it instantly more appealing. And I like the idea of working at a birthing center instead of a hospital. I love my job, but there are things that I would change if I had the chance. Mostly, the politics of working in a hospital. And the charting. Oh, the hours and hours of charting. I just need a change of pace and scenery.

Then Ihaveto consider Josiah. I don’t want to base my life decisions on a man. I spent years planning my entire future around a man I thought I would marry, and I don’t want to do that ever again, no matter how important Josiah is to me. I want to make this decision because it’s what I want to do. I don’t think he’d want me to make my decision based on him anyway. But I have to acknowledge that he is a part of my life now, and I have to factor him into the equation. I reach over and take his hand in mine just so I can feel his presence and comfort. Shivers course down my spine when he turns his head and flashes a smile my way.

I want to keep him in my life. I want to build on what we have going on here. I don’t want to ruin this by making this huge life decision and shaking things up for him. He’s just now getting settled into his new business. Whatever I decide is going to change things. I’ll have to move if I get into school, whichever option I choose. Even if I choose the school in Clifton, it will be too far to commute every day. I don’t have that kind of money to be spending on gas. Would he want to move with me?

And what if I get into med school? Would he go with me wherever they sent me for residency? I don’t want him to have to plan his life around me in that way. I know what it’s like following the whims of someone else. It’s stressful and unpredictable, and I don’t want to do that to someone else, especially him.

Before I know it, the audience is standing to their feet and applauding thunderously. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and refocus on the stage. The curtains are closing, and then the lights in the theater come on.

“Intermission?” Josiah asks. I glance at the program in my hand and nod my head, breathing a sigh of relief that I didn’t miss the entire ballet while I was zoned out. I’d never forgive myself if I wasted the opportunity to finally see my sister dance in a lead role.

Josiah and I take the opportunity to stretch our legs and use the restroom. The line for the women’s room is a mile long, and I worry I’ll miss the start of the second act. We make it back to our seats just in time for the lights to flicker, letting everyone know that the show is about to resume. I glue my eyes to the stage and force myself to focus on every note of music being played and every step the dancers take on the stage. For the next hour, I think of nothing but the beautiful ballet in front of me.

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