Page 95 of I Did Something Bad
The smile that had been growing on his mouth halts. Then, remembering social protocol, he lets out a “Congratulations!”
The forced nature of his expression sparks something in me. I shake my head. “I’m not taking it.”
“You’re not taking the job?” he echoes, face raging with warring emotions.
“No.”
“TheVoguejob? Khin, if this is because of me, I don’t—”
I take a step toward him. “I became a journalist because I wanted to write stories that matter. Don’t get me wrong, they cover a lot of important stories. I’m not saying that fashion magazines likeVoguedon’t matter because we both know that’s just misogynistic bullshit merely based on the fact that they have a primarily female fanbase.”
“Of course,” he agrees, smile returning.
“But they don’t write the kind of stories thatIwant to write. I want to continue writing stuff like that abortion piece. You know, more stories about people that most mainstream media overlook but that readers need to know about. I don’t want a career of hanging out with celebrities or backstage at fashion shows or, and no offense, more movie sets. Those things are so boring! God help me if I ever have to watch you run through a park one more fucking time. And there’s so much waiting! My feet hurt and you don’t have enough bathrooms and I don’t get to drive my own car. And I have to watch each scene, like, fifteen times! I practically have the whole script memorized by this point!”
Tyler laughs at my pained expression. “So what’re you going to do now?” he asks. “What do you want to do… next?”
I grimace. “Will it ruin the moment if I say, ideally,you?”
He lets out another unfettered laugh, and my god, if that isn’t myfavorite sound in the world. “It’s the truth, you know,” I say. “I want to make out with you and drive around with you andbewith you. I want to cook with you and I want to take out the trash and pay taxes and slow dance to Taylor Swift songs with you. I love you, Tyler. I love you so much it’sembarrassingfor someone as hot and successful as myself.”
He startles at my saying the word, but I don’t; it’s the easiest, most natural thing I’ve ever done. “You… love me,” he says, voice petering out, like he can’t quite believe it, whichIcan’t believe. How could anyonenotlove him? Wonderful, brilliant, generous him.
“I love you,” I repeat. “You are my favorite person in the whole world, and not just because you helped me try to get away with murder, although that did put you ahead of the pack.”
He smiles faintly, but I can tell that he’s distracted. He’s turning over my words, coming at them from all angles. “I want to believe everything you’re saying, Khin, Ireallydo,” he finally says, face torqued with anguish. “But I—” He takes a deep breath. “You hurt me. It hurt to know that every minute we’d spent together turned out to be just an opportunity for you to get somethingfromme. Out of everyone who’s ever turned their backs on me or used me, none of them hurt me like you did.”
“I know,” I say, because I do, because I can see it in every single line and dimple and scar on his face. “I meant every word of that article. You are the best person I’ve ever met, and you have this big, golden heart, and I know you trusted me and I’m sorry I broke that trust. I am so, so sorry. I can’t go back in time and undo that, but I’m trying my best to show you that it’s not going to happen again.
“Because here’s the thing,” I say, moving closer so that there’s nothing separating us. I take it as a good sign that he doesn’t move away. In fact, I observe his body start to relax like he’s come home after a long trip, and realize that mine is doing the same, too. “I could tell you every single day just how much I love you, but ultimately, it won’tmatter if you don’t trust me. And I know what it’s like to love someone and still not have it work out in the end, but you know what, I have areallygood gut feeling about us, and I want us to at least give it our all. This doesn’t work if we don’t trust that we will be right there by each other’s side from morning to night and then all over again when we wake up the next day—which I will. Every. Single. Day. Through your highest highs and your shittiest lows. Iloveyou, Tyler, and I will never, ever lie to you again.” I raise a finger. “Well, unless if it’s about, say, your birthday present. Then I’ll probably lie my ass off, but only because I want to surprise you, because making you smile is one of my favorite things to do.”
He grins, and in retrospect, my heart never stood a chance. Slowly, tenderly, he comes closer, his palms mold around my cheeks, thumb brushing away my tears before he leans down to press a kiss to my forehead. “You cannot imagine how much I’ve missed you,” he says, and I am acutely aware that this scene feels like something you only get in the movies. He tilts my head upward so he can look me straight in the eye. “I love you, too. I wanted to call you so many times, but it seemed like you’d made up your mind about us, and that was that.”
“You should’ve called. I would’ve answered,” I whisper. “I’ll always answer.”
“I have spent the last few months searching for the back of your head in every crowd,” he says before tipping farther down and closing his lips onto mine.
He tastes exactly how I remember, and when his hands slide down my shoulders and along my back before settling at the base of my spine, it sets off a thousand tiny explosions all through my body. It seems impossible that we’ve only ever kissed twice before because this feels so comfortable, like I’ve been doing it for years and years, like whatelsewould we have been doing ever since we met?
“I love you,” I say when we pull apart for air, and already, I wantto repeat it to him over and over again, so that he never forgets. So that he never, not even for a second, has a reason to believe otherwise.
“I love you so much, you have no idea,” he murmurs. “Even if you guilt-tripped me into selling my private jet.”
I gasp. “You what?”
He rolls his eyes. “Apparently itisdreadful for the environment.”
“Tyler Tun,” I say, jutting out my bottom lip. “And here I thought I possibly couldn’t love you any more.”
“There I go, wrecking your plans again, huh?”
I snake my fingers through his hair and give him a soft tug closer. “That’s my man,” I whisper into his mouth.
It was nearing 1A.M.when all the parents and aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins had left and we were completely,finally,alone.
“Dishes?” I ask, making for the kitchen.
“They can wait until the morning,” Tyler says. I yelp in surprise at the feel of his arm snaking around my waist and pulling me back into his rib cage, although it only takes half a second for my body to fully settle into him. “I have a small surprise.”
