Page 97 of Infinite as They Come
I finally got to the solarium, the door wide open, and the first thing my eyes landed on was Holly. She was sitting backwards on the couch, her hands tucked under her chin, keeping them layered against the headrest. Her eyes hadn’t found mine yet and instead stayed stuck on the windows. There were fucking windows everywhere. In front of her, to my side, even the goddamn ceiling was just pure glass. But it let all that light fly in, and Christ, if she didn’t look like an angel before then she looked like one right now. There was a shine around her, her bronzed skin glowing, her Bambi eyes blinking slowly. She really was too beautiful. And that girl was mine. The girl who didn’t care where I came from, who didn’t care about living in a motel with me for the past two months, who didn’t care about the rips in my shirts. The girl who I wanted to paint for the rest of my life, who I wanted to stare at every chance I got, who I wanted to love with everything in me.
I wanted that girl to be mine forever.
She caught me staring, her head lifting up that little bit as she met my eyes. “Sawyer?” she whispered.
“Hey,” I said, letting out a long breath. “Nice plant room.”
She sat up straighter, moving her hair out of her eyes. “When did you get here?”
“Little while ago. Your dad let me in.”
“You drove here? All that way?”
I shrugged. “I’ll drive for as long as I have to as long as it leads me to you.”
Arms wrapping around herself, she nodded. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“No, I did. I woke up and…”
She winced. “I was gone. I’m sorry I did that. That you woke up to that. That was unfair of me.”
“No,” I said, head shaking as I crossed the room over to her. It was stacked with plants, lush green leaves surrounding me. My hands grabbed hers that were still pressed up against her arms and I lowered them slowly, replacing them with mine. She didn’t have to comfort herself. Not when I was around. “I get it.”
“I was coming back. I wasn’t leaving, Sawyer. You didn’t see my note?”
“I saw it. And I know you were coming back. You didn’t take any of your stuff with you. You weren’t leaving.”
“Why’d you come all the way here if you knew I’d be back?”
“I love you, Holly.” It was a simple response. Just the one sentence, but that was all it came down to: I loved her. I loved every last part of her.
Eyes watering, she gave me a little nod. “I love you too. Just… Sawyer, having you lie to me… It hurt a little too much.”
“I’m sorry for lying. For not being honest. You deserve better than that.” My lips brushed against hers, and I watched as her eyes gently fluttered closed, a sigh that I could only label as relief escaping her—like she had been waiting for that. For me. I had been waiting all day to feel her too and I couldn’t help but draw her in closer. “The day you told me you wanted to be mine, Holly? That was the day I knew I wanted to give you everything I could.”
Her eyes gently opened back up. “I don’tneedeverything, Sawyer.”
“I know.” I nodded. “I know, baby. But it’s what I felt, what I thought. If I could give you the world, I would. I know I don’t have a lot to give you. Just my love, and that might not seem like a lot to some…”
“To me, it’s everything. Everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s the best thing you could give me.”
“And I promise you I have a hell of a lot of that to give you. I’ll love you forever, Holly.”
She leaned in a little closer, pressing her forehead to mine. “I’ll love you forever too.”
“I need to know something, though, and I need you to be honest with me.Do you want to go to New York?” I asked, eyes locked to hers. “You probably have a million places asking you to work for them. Big, fancy places. You might want that life. You might wanna go back, and if you do, I understand. I just need to know.”
“I don’t want to go back,” she said, voice calm.
“I don’t want you to say that just because of me.”
“I’ve had places offering me roles before I graduated. I’ve said no to every single one. I said no to the place you saw in that email. I can’t be in that city forever, Sawyer. You know I don’t want that.” Redness flushed there in her cheeks, her eyes lowering to the floor. “You probably don’t remember what I told you…”
“I remember everything you tell me.”
She laughed, the sound soft and bright. “Not this, though. A few years ago, when we first moved to New York, and I told you about the house I imagined living in when school and everything was over with…”
I was pretty sure I stopped breathing for a second when she said that. “That was your fairytale.”
