Page 140 of This Could Be Us

She nods haltingly.

“Will your daughters be there?”

At that she glances up, her slight smile wry. “They do live at the house, so yeah. They’ll be there for dinner.”

“Soledad, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I want what you want.” Her brows knit over the earnestness in her eyes. “A life together on our terms.”

For a second I don’t even know how to answer, can’t find words to ask about exactly what I want being dropped into my lap. It’s disorienting.

“I… we… what’s changed?” I ask.

She draws a deep breath and clasps her hands tightly in front of her.

“I just got back from South Carolina. My sisters and I had to clear out the house where we grew up, and I found some of the journals and diaries my mother kept.”

She shakes her head, her expression self-deprecating. “I know. I probably shouldn’t have read them, but I miss her so much, and there’s a lot I never understood about her as a woman. Not my mom or my dad’s wife, but as her own person. She shared that in her journal, and I needed to see it.”

“That makes sense,” I say. “Go on.”

“She was in love with two men in her life.” Soledad leans against the stairwell wall. “Lola’s father and mine. Lola’s dad was that passion that burns so hot it consumes you. Her love for my father was… softer, warm, not hot, but it was that enduring kind of fire that just keeps burning and lets you glow.”

She bites her lip as if uncertain how to go on, but I let her figure it out in the silence, afraid anything I might say would ruin it.

“I used to think of that great passion as a vine that wraps around your soul, makes you feel wild and abandoned and almost out of control. And I thought of what she had with Dad as a seed that grows slowly within. Something you nurture over time that makes you feel safe and secure.”

She looks up at me, resolve and wonder in her expression. “I was never sure I had either with Edward, but with you I’ve found both. You make me forget the world when you kiss me, and it’s reckless and outof control, and yet there is no safer place. No one I trust more. You’re a harbor, not just for me, but for your boys, for your ex, for anyone you love and who needs you. You are the seed and you are the vine, and I love you, Judah.”

I let her words wash over me, soothing the uncertainty of the last two weeks, unsure of how to respond. I gather her close again, unable to stay away with what I’ve seen in her eyes, felt in her arms, finally spoken.

“I love you too, Sol. There’s nothing I want more than a life with you.”

The light in her eyes dims a fraction, and she bites her lip, squeezes her eyes shut as if afraid to see my face when she utters her next words.

“Judah, I love you, but I meant what I said. I don’t know if I want marriage ever again. I do know I wantyou. Is that enough?”

I grasp her chin and wait for her to look at me, wanting to dash the uncertainty in her eyes.

“I don’t care about that. By the end of my marriage, Tremaine and I were basically roommates and co-caregivers. It wasn’t about passion or connection or love or any of the things that make a marriage real. I wantthosethings. It doesn’t matter to me if it’s wrapped in a marriage license or secured by a set of rings that tell people we belong together. We know, and that may look different now than it will when our kids are gone. In my case, my kids may never be gone. I have no idea.”

“And the way you’re committed to them for life,” she says, “is one of the things I love most about you. I’m not going anywhere either.”

I can’t help but think of the first time I saw her, of how Aaron reached out to her, connected with her, which is rare for him. People often underestimate him because he doesn’t speak, but I think that even when he doesn’t make eye contact, he’s still watching. Even when he doesn’t seem to be paying attention, he hears. He listens. I wonder if he saw Soledad that first night even in a way I didn’t at the time—if he recognized her as someone special.

Stay.

He said it to me at one of the most crucial points in our life, and itreverberates through every cell of my body as Soledad snuggles close for one last hug.

Stay.

I haven’t had much to smile about lately. Today has been hell, and the question of our future had me dragging around like I lost my best friend the last two weeks. Because in some ways I had. I’ve known Soledad a little over a year, but in that time, I’ve felt seen by her as I never have by anyone else in my life. And the possibility of having the camaraderie, the communion, the passion Tremaine said she and I both deserved—having that with the woman I’ve been drawn to since the moment we met? It paints a goofy grin on my face. I know it does. I can feel how ridiculously happy it makes me appear, but I can’t hold it back.

“I’ve never seen you look like this,” Soledad laughs, setting her palms on either side of my face and tipping up to kiss my nose, my cheeks, my lips.

“You’ve made me happy,” I tell her, curling my arms around her waist and pulling her into me. “Youmakeme happy.”

It’s true. Happiness for myself was at the top of my Me List, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever truly have it. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say since I know she’s spent so much time over the last year ensuring she could be happy on her own, could be content alone, but doubt doesn’t flicker through her eyes. Just a deep emotion that reflects the feeling banging against the door of my heart.

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