Page 91 of Second Tide's the Charm
“Because the problem I keep coming back to is logistics. How do we mesh our lives?”
“Logistics?” She lets out a snort of disbelief. “You’ve been in love with this man for years, and he loves you back, and you’re talking to me about logistics?”
My mouth twists at her humbling assessment. I can hear noise in the background. “What are you doing, anyway?”
“Laundry.” I picture her sitting on the couch, a show on in the background, working her way through heaps of clean clothes. The same way we used to spend many evenings before I left, rehashing the day’s events. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
She knows me too well. “I just worry we’re going to keep having this same struggle. I’m never going to want my next steps set in stone.” I curl my toes against the cool sand.
There’s a moment of not-quite silence, where the only sound is the rustle of clothing being folded, then she says, “I think you’re bound to disappoint one another. Go through struggles. Misunderstand one another. But you can choose to love one another through the difficulties. Apologize and forgive and work to do better, to understand one another better.”
“So you’re saying it will all work out in the end if we go on loving each other?” Sounds like something my heart would say, except this time my head is in full agreement.
“All you have to ask yourself is if it’s worth figuring things out together, one step at a time. Is a life with Adrian better than living without him?”
Yes. Unequivocally yes. I lived without Adrian’s love for three years and missed him every moment. I’ve missed him every moment of these weeks of silence. “If anything, I’ve always felt like my love for him was overwhelming.”
“No such thing as too much love,” she says simply.
Her words are permission to meet Adrian where he’s at, and trust him to do the same for me.
My hand goes to my heart, aching. He’s made mistakes. I have too. But he came looking for me this time. Not pushing, or forcing my hand. He came for me, and now he’s giving me the space to come to him.
Sharks and Adrian. Adrian and sharks. Career and love. The solution is to try. The answer is keep on loving him.
No such thing as too much love.How I feel for Adrian, the enormity of it? That’s not something to fear, but to revel in. To run toward, not away from. I don’t want to turn my back on love. I want to face it head-on, like a sunrise.
thirty-seven
adrian
I got home late last night. Alone. Woke up early and aching from pushing myself through a hard workout. Holed myself up in my office on campus all morning, then spent the afternoon in the lab. Finished for the day, the need to keep busy, keep my mind off Hope and what she might be thinking propels me to the marina instead of home. I take a rare trip out to the bay on my own, returning at sunset.
At first, flying home right away seemed like the most caring thing to do. Show I don’t have any expectations, that the next move is hers. But as the day fades with no word from her, I begin to question the wisdom of that choice.
Loath to go home to an empty house, I catch up on maintenance tasks until well past dark, when all the other boaters have left, and the shop has closed. I’m washing down the deck when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I spin and drop the hose immediately, drenching my shoes, but I barely notice because a streak of long limbs and curls and soft curves that I’d know anywhere cannonballs into my arms.Hope. Her arms are around my neck, fingertips pressing into my shoulders. I grip her tight, my face burrowed into her neck.
She smells like sunshine and aloe vera. She’s warm and solid andhere.
“I missed you,” she says into my shoulder, the brush of her lips a touch I’ll never take for granted again. She pulls away and meets my eyes. “I’m so tired of missing you.”
Her words reverberate into my chest, the perfect summation of my own feelings, and there’s only one thing left to say, something I can’t hold back any longer, no matter what comes next. “I love you.”
Her eyes crinkle, smile bright. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Then her lips are on mine, sure and sweet, and I’m lost. Found again in the promises of her touch. My fingers swipe against the delicate curve of her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek, her body molded against mine.
A moment later, she pulls away with a soft laugh. “My shoes are soaked.”
I glance down and see the hose gushing at our feet and hurry to shut it off. When I return, she’s standing there, looking shy. My brain can’t quite process that she’s here, and I grab her hands to reassure myself.
She holds on tight to my fingers, face tipped up, eyes full of tenderness. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you this yesterday, but I’ve missed you every single day since I left. Missed talking about my day with you. Missed hearing you grumble about your pet peeves and roll your eyes at my cheesy humor.”
Chuckling, she says, “I thought love was sky writing and roses and all sorts of things I never saw the point of. But then I met you. And I realized love was inside jokes and listening to each other and dreaming together. Love doesn’t have to be big and loud. It’s quiet and steady and there when you need it. It’s rare, maybe once-in-a-lifetime. And it’s worth holding on to.” She squeezes my hands. “You’reworth holding on to, and I’m so glad we didn’t give up.”
She hasn’t stepped closer, but I swear I can feel her heart beating in time with my own, and when she gazes up at me, her face is radiant, even in the darkness. “There’s no going back to who I was before you, and I’ve stopped trying. Loving you makes my life better.Youmake my life better, and I believe in us.”
Overcome, I wrap my arms around her. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re the person for me.”
She pulls away, but it’s just to pull me down into a kiss. Slow and hungry, we take our time, rediscovering each other. Her lips part and I slide my tongue against hers, relishing her soft moan. I reach down, thumbs tracing the curve of her shoulders. I want to take my time. I’ve got three years to make up for.
