Page 78 of Dial L for Lawyer
“Say what? That I love you?”
“Yes!”
"I just did."
"We've been together for a week—barely."
"If we count from the moment you walked into my office, it’s two. But, if I’m honest, I've been falling for you for months. I just finally hit the ground."
"That's not love. That's?—"
"What? Infatuation? Lust? Temporary insanity?" I shake my head. "I've had all those. This is different."
She's trembling now, caught between running and staying. I can see it in every line of her body—the way her shoulders tense, her fingers grip the counter, eyes dart toward the door then back to me.
"You don't know what you're saying."
"I'm a lawyer. I always know what I'm saying." I stand and cup her face gently. "I love your brilliance. Your sass. The way you fight for yourself and stand by your friends. I love that you watch serial killer documentaries to relax. I love that you stress-bake. I love your body—every inch, every mark, every story it tells."
"Stop."
"I love that you're terrified right now but you're still here. I love that you trusted me enough to tell me about the kids who called you names, about the way your mother treated you, about the doctors—all of it."
"Caleb, please?—"
"I'm not asking you to say it back. I'm not asking for anything except that you believe me." I press my forehead to hers. "No trapdoors. No escape plans. No punchlines. Just me, loving you, exactly as you are."
She's crying now, real tears, and not the pretty kind. Her shoulders shake and she makes these little gasping sounds that break my heart.
"What if I can't?" she asks. "What if I'm too broken to believe you?"
"Then I'll keep telling you until you can. Every day if I have to."
"What if I never?—"
"Then I'll love you anyway." I wipe her tears with my thumbs. "That's what love is, Serena. It's not conditional on you being perfect or confident or even believing you deserve it. It just is."
She kisses me then, desperate and messy, tasting like coffee and tears and months of wanting. When she pulls back, she's still crying but she's also smiling.
"You're insane," she says.
"About you? Absolutely."
"This is too fast."
"This is exactly the right speed."
"I don't know how to do this."
"Neither do I. We'll figure it out together."
She takes a shaky breath. "I'm not saying it back yet."
"I don't need you to."
"But I..." She stops, searching for words. "I feel things. Big things. Scary things. Things that make me want to run and stay at the same time."
"That's enough. More than enough."
