Page 83 of Choosing a Forever
Does she want me? Her reaction seemed like she did, but I don’t know. I can’t read her as well as I’d like to.
Iwanther to want me.
She was opening up to me, but one wrong move could have her shutting down again, and I don’t want that.
My feelings for her are growing and expanding in my chest, and eventually they’ll have to be let out, or I’ll explode.
As I make my way to the stairs, the melody of a song floats down, and I pause halfway through my ascent to listen to Taylor Swift’s voice singing about feeling guilty for things she hasn’t done. I’ve never paid much attention to the lyrics, but for some reason, it makes me pause.
Chills run up and down my arms as I keep listening to her sing about bed sheets being ablaze and screaming someone’s name.
About the way he holds her being what’sactuallyholy.
Why do I suddenly feel like crying? This song, the lyrics, are saying things I haven’t been able to put into words. Feeling guilty for something I haven’t even done, for touching someone I’ve never touched in a sexual way.
As I reach the top of the stairs, I find Mack bobbing her head to the beat and flippingpancakes.
The blinds are open, the early morning sun shining through and casting her in an angelic glow. She’s so beautiful my breath hitches, and a rightness settles in my chest.
This.Thisis what I've been waiting forever for. Casual mornings with the love of my life.
Tell her now.
Oh, how I want to. I want to wrap her in my arms and tell her this is real for me. This is what I want. The forever I’m choosing is with her, and I hope she’ll choose me, too.
The song changes, and my heart rate speeds up as I recognize the guitar string intro immediately, even though it’s a song I actively avoided for years because it brings me too much pain.
Mack’s back stiffens, and she reaches for her phone—
“Please don’t,” I blurt out, startling her.
“Jesus H. Christ, Talmage! I didn’t even hear you come up.” Her hand slaps her chest in shock.
“I’m sorry.” I wish my ankle wasn’t hurting so I could walk faster, but I hobble in her direction anyway. “But please don’t change the song,” I whisper.
“I don’t listen to this song anymore,” she admits quietly.
“Why?”
She swallows and shakes her head. “I just… can’t.”
“Don’t shut me out, tell me why.Please.”
Her eyes search my face, for what, I don’t know. But eventually, she turns back to the griddle, and I assume she’s not going to answer.
“I haven’t listened to it since you broke up with me. I tried to, but it brought me to tears every time. I can’tbring myself to block it from my app, but… I skip it every time,” she admits softly while she plates the pancakes and some bacon.
She still skips it fourteen years later? Maybe Mack’s feelings aren’t gone like I thought, not if the pain is still real. If she’d moved on, she would be able to listen to it no problem. If she didn’t have feelings for me, the song wouldn’t bring her such pain.
I step beside her and put my hand on her arm to grab her attention. Her head tilts up to look at me, and the emotions swirling around her green eyes make me want to fall to my knees.
Fourteen years later, but the pain I caused her still exists—stillhurts—and it makes me feel like shit.
“Mack, I—”
“I hope you made chocolate chip!” Kinsley’s voice interrupts what I was about to say—about to confess.
Probably for the best. Mack deserves more than a hasty kitchen confession. She deserves the grandest of grand gestures. A romance-novel-worthy moment, and I intend to give it to her.
