Page 113 of Before You
Only . . . I didn’t know how different our forever would turn out to be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
JJ
BETWEEN FINALS AND my football schedule, the last three weeks have flown by. I feel a little guilty for not spending my birthday and Christmas with my family, but I’d feel worse about not spending the time with Marley.
She ran herself ragged with projects, and for a few days there, I think Marley was sleeping less than I was.
I’m not even sure she knew how much nervous energy she was projecting, but I think after the meetings she went to New York for after Thanksgiving, she’s wavering in her determination to take over. As a result of her hesitancy, it seems like Marley has thrown herself into overdrive to prove to herself she wants to take over.
I understand her commitment to taking over for her father as the CEO in a few years, but I also hate saying nothing as a bystander to her misery. Thankfully, I’m smart enough to understand it’s not my place to say anything, no matter how much I might want to. Marley’s been there for me countless times over the last few months, and while I wasn’t happy about the circumstances, I was glad to finally be able to return the favor of being there for her.
I’m even trying to learn Mandarin so Marley can have someone to practice with, but I’m finding it’s entirelydifferent from learning Italian. Hasn’t stopped me from making flashcards and listening through my headphones to practice during my walks to and from class, though. It’s nice to have a different way to distract my brain from the cravings that are still rearing their ugly heads inside me.
Thankfully, my parents weren’t upset about me coming to New York early for the holiday, since I have to be here anyway for my team’s bowl game a few days after Christmas. While I was overwhelmed at first by how nice the Benson’s townhome is, it definitely helped seeing her dad walk around in sweatpants and an old Beaumont Lacrosse sweatshirt, making him seem a little more down-to-earth than when he’s wearing his full suits.
It’s still one thing knowing how many zeroes are attached to the Benson name, and another thing to see it firsthand.
Marley is brushing a comb through her tangled, damp hair on her bed when I step out of the bathroom, pulling my clean shirt into place. There’s just something about airports that makes me want to shower before doing anything else, and knowing this, Marley asked if I wanted to join her, but I didn’t trust myself to keep my hands to myself.
Her cerulean eyes find mine, and a stunning smile peels across her face. “You know, it would’ve saved water if we showered together.”
I chuckle, shaking my head at Marley. “As much as I love an excuse to touch you everywhere, I highly doubt it’d be faster,” I say, sitting next to her as her comb catches on a knot. She sighs, tugging it through, and it just looks painful. “Can I help?” I ask, and Marley turns, her eyebrows raised.
“Help with what?”
“Comb your hair.”
“What? Why?” she asks, and I shrug.
“I like taking care of you.”
Marley’s mouth parts, her breath catching. “Okay,” she agrees, her voice soft.
I pluck the comb before she can change her mind, starting at the ends like I’ve seen Mirabelle do so many times before. I take my time to work my way up—more time than necessary—until the comb is able to glide through her caramel hair.
“You’re good at this,” she says, tilting her head back.
“I told you, I like taking care of you,” I say, enjoying being helpful. “Thank you for inviting me to come with you.”
“Thank you for coming. It means a lot, especially knowing everything going on with your family.” Marley twists, turning her whole body to face mine as I set the comb down on her comforter. “I’m really happy you’re here.”
“Happy to be here, Mar.” It’s so tempting to lean forward and kiss Marley, but instead, my eyes shift to my open bag in the corner of her room. “I know it’s not Christmas for a few more days, but can I give you a present early?”
It’s honestly a miracle I’ve kept it to myself until now. Bria went with me to pick it out, and I have been so excited to give it to her.
“Right now?”
“Why not?” I ask, standing up to grab the little box from my bag.
She chuckles, her cheeks rosy as Marley smiles at me. “Because it’s not Christmas yet,” she says, shaking her head.
“So? I have another one you can open on Christmas, but humor me a little,” I tease, my heart beating fast in my chest as I hand her the small, wrapped box. “Merry Christmas, Marley.”
She takes it from me with a smile, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper instead of ripping into it like I would’ve to reveal the velvet box inside. Her brilliant blue eyes lift to meet mine before she opens it, emitting a soft gasp.
“JJ.”
