Page 150 of Goodbye Again
He smiles that slow, sexy smile that I adore and says, “Uncross your legs.”
epilogue
THE CREAK OF OUR ROCKINGchairs lulls us into the evening as we watch the sun set over the lake.
“It’s a good life with you, Jules. I’m glad I moved out here,” JP says, throwing a ball for Kevin to retrieve in the yard.
I turn to face him with a sleepy, perfect smile. “I’m glad, too.”
He didn’t waste another chance getting it wrong again. He essentially cancelled his life and moved out to be with me as soon as he could and he’s been here for six months.
“You know what I like to think about?” he asks, and I raise my eyebrows for him to continue. “That first Thanksgiving when I brought you home to meet my family. I was so nervous. I remember thinking, what am I doing? I barely know this girl, but I just wanted you to meet the family as if we were sure we had a future together.”
“You were not nervous,” I chide.
“I was,” he argues.
“I don’t believe you.” I shake my head.
JP doesn’t respond to that. “Remember my dad said we were going to get married?”
I laugh. “And your mom bet her top dollar.”
He smiles at that, saying, “But now it all makes sense.” He squints as he looks out at the water, where Kevin has now lost interest in fetch and is drinking lake water. “Dad died three years later and never really got to spend time with you again. It was impulsive to bring you and I didn’t think any of it through, but now I think that impulse was what allowed my dad to meetthe love of my life before I even knew you were the love of my life.”
Tears cloud my eyes. “I’m so glad I got to meet him.”
JP squeezes my hand. “I wish I got to meet your grandma.”
“Oh, she would have loved you,” I practically sing.
“Yeah?”
“Without a doubt,” I remark.
Falling in love with JP was more than a whirlwind. It was a tornado without a warning, twisting into my life and leaving marks on every part of me he touched. And he touched me everywhere, inside and out. He broke me open. Gutted me. Cleaned me out. And put me back together again every single day. He was my lamp in the night. My heartbeat. My everything. And when I look back on how we met and how fast we fell in love, I wish I’d savored those first moments more. I wish I had slowed down. And I can’t help but wonder: if we had done one thing differently, would we have found a love like this?
Gramma used to say when I fell in love, I wouldn’t know it was happening. That one day, I’d just wake up and realizethisis the person I’d never want to not know. But with JP, I knew it from the first conversation. I just didn’t know how to reconcile it or how to take something that fits in a fairytale and make it true for my life.
I was well aware that I was falling in love with him. Even when it hurt.
“I have something for us,” he says, pulling two plastic eggs out of his pocket.
“Are you kidding? When did you get these?” I ask, disbelief in my tone. “Error: fortune not found,” I joke, remembering our first date.
A nervous burst of laughter escapes his lips. “You go first.”
I pop open the yellow plastic and unroll the yellow slip of paper. “No way! It says, only listen to chicken egg fortunes.Disregard all other fortune telling units.” I laugh. It’s the same one as our first date. “Well, of course not, it worked out for us so far—”
My voice and breath cut out as my gaze lands on JP, kneeling before me, holding his open plastic egg in his hands, revealing a brilliant cut diamond.
“My fortune is a promise. My fortune is a commitment. My fortune is you, Jules,” he says, tears in his eyes. “Marry me. I want to spend every day making sure you know you’ve been loved.”
I throw myself in his arms, knocking him over until we tumble to the worn wooden slats of the porch. He cradles my body as he rolls us so I’m under him.
He pulls back, sweeping my hair out of my face. “So yes?”
I smile through my tears. “Yes!”
I curl my body into his, and he runs a gentle finger along my jaw. He kisses me once, lingering a few moments. I count the freckles on his cheek and the one on his bottom lip then get lost in the gold flecks in his green eyes for the millionth time, knowing I get to do this every day. Over and over until my heart gives out.
“Why do you love me, JP?” I ask, arms around his neck.
“Because you’re painfully optimistic,” he teases, then kisses my forehead. “Why do you love me?”
There are a million reasons why, but ultimately, he’s just my person. My voice of reason. My steady ground. My peace of mind. My comfort movie and lazy Sunday evening. And also, “Because you’re profoundly normal.”
My lips find his before he can laugh. And I kiss him, not like it’s the last day of our lives, but like it’s the first.
