Page 179 of Things I Wish I Said
She huffs out a breath. “And you were right. I was scared. Of my mother replacing me and moving on with a life I’d never get to see. I was afraid of dying. Of planning a future I couldn’t have. Of continuing the fight only to be left disappointed. Afraid to admit how much I’d fallen for you because it meant I had something to lose. Because until then, I didn’t. At the time, pushing you away felt easier. I was so damn scared, wrapped up in my own head, I couldn’t see clearly. I told myself it was for the best. That breaking your heart saved you more pain in the future, but it was all just bullshit. The lies we tell ourselves to get through the hard times.”
I swallow and glance away from her, my throat bobbing with emotion. The last three months without her have been pure hell.
When she didn’t reach out to me before I left for school, I’d been devastated. I’d hoped the start of college would help ease the pain, but it didn’t. Every day, I’d wake and wonder where she was and what she was doing. Worse yet, I’d go to bed at night with a cold, hard pit of dread in my stomach, wondering if her cancer had spread. I’d count the breath going in and outof my lungs as if somehow doing so would keep hers filling, expanding. I’ve willed this moment to fruition so many times, now that it’s here, I’m afraid it’s not real. Like it’s some kind of dream, and the minute I open myself back up to her again, she’ll disappear.
I suck in a breath, finding the courage to meet her eyes once more. “Why didn’t you come see me? Call? Text? Something,anything, Ryleigh? All I wanted, all I needed was to hear from you, to make sure you were okay. Do you know how I felt when I found out you’d been admitted to the hospital in Charlotte?” My heart bangs like a gavel inside my chest. “I was petrified. And I wanted to come and see you, but I was told I wasn’t wanted there. I went fucking out of my mind not knowing if you were okay.”
“I know.” Her voice shakes as she steps forward and takes my hand in hers, her touch like a branding iron—a hot, sharp jolt. “There are so many things I wish I said, and I know I might be too late now. Just like I know an apology is far too inadequate to make amends for the way I ended things. I hurt you, and I’ve spent the past three months regretting it every moment of every single day, wishing I had been brave enough to choose something different, but by the time I got home from Charlotte, you were already gone. It felt cruel to chase after you when I had no idea what my future looked like.”
The muscle in my jaw twitches as I shake my head and take a step back. Her words are so similar to what Rachelsaid that day at the lake. The only difference is I love Ryleigh; I’d do anything for her.
“Then why are you here now? Why come at all?” I ask, unable to read between the lines.
“Because I’m building a future for myself, and I want you in it, Grayson.” She swallows, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears. “I know I told you I didn’t have one, but I was wrong. I’ve spent the past three months figuring out who I am now, in the present, and who I want to be in the future. I know I love to read fantasy and science fiction romance, but I hate romantic comedies. I love board games and cards but despise video games. I discovered I’m an amazing baker, but I suck at cooking supper. I absolutely love hiking. Finding new trails and exploring nature. The rush of fresh air in my lungs and the scent of the earth and forest around me. And I’ve been working at Wishing Well.”
My eyes fly open, wide with shock. “You’re . . .”
“The new administrative assistant?” She nods. “Yeah.”
“What about nursing?”
“Turns out, I love nonprofit work. I’m even going to college for my MBA in the spring. I actually have an appointment tomorrow at Northern Virginia Community College.”
I frown. “That’s here, in Fairfax.”
She clears her throat, hesitant as she says, “It’s not a coincidence it’s in the same city as you.”
Shock ripples through me; the burn of hope ignites.
“And I’m doing the trial. Maybe it’s a miracle or they’re onto something big, but the combination of targeted therapy and the experimental drug are working for me. My last scans showed the cancer is shrinking. It’s no longer in my lymph nodes, and they’re optimistic that with more therapy, it’ll be gone entirely.”
I close my eyes, entirely too overwhelmed with emotion to speak.
All the things she told me swim in my head like an impossible dream. It’s everything I wanted for her—all the things I dreamed about.
“That day in the hotel, you told me endings are what you make of them, that I'm still writing mine." Her throat bobs. "And you were right. I love you, Grayson.”
Her words rocket through me like an electric shock, jolting me back to life again.
My pulse pounds, heart racing like an Olympian as I blink my eyes open, searching her expression for a sign it’s not true, that I’ve somehow imagined the words I’ve craved every day of the three months we’ve spent apart.
I inhale, my whole body shaking as I try and process those three little words that burn through me like a shot of whisky.
Swallowing, I bite back the urge to tell her I love her, too. That I never stopped.
I want to tell her I’ve spent three months missing her. Three months dreaming a different ending to our story. One where we live happily ever after because I’ve been all in from the moment I met her.
But I don’t. Not yet. I need to make sure she means it first. That she’s not going to bail on me again when things get tough.
She takes a step forward, her tiger eyes never leaving mine. “I love you, and if you can’t forgive me, I’ll understand, but if you can . . .” Her throat bobs. “Well, I’d love for you to be a part of my future, because it’ll be a whole lot brighter with you in it. I’m all in, Grayson. I have been for a long time, actually. Far before the trip to LA.”
She inhales, like she’s holding her breath for my answer. Her amber eyes stare up at me, the sunlight glinting off the golden flecks.
Licking her lips, she huffs out a breath. “Say something.”
I motion toward the plastic bin of cookies in her hands. “Are those for me?”
She starts, as if she’s forgotten she's holding them. Glancing down at her hands, she frowns. “Uh, yeah.”
