Page 115 of The Love Rematch
“I know you think that, Jake—”
“I know it.” He clutches her hands, and his eyes come into sharp focus as they zero in on her with an intensity she’s never experienced. “You’re the most important thing in my life.”
She looks away, unable to stand it. “There’s more you don’t know.”
“I don’t care.”
“You need to listen, Jake.”
She swallows and sits back on the bed, needing a little space to breathe. So far, they’ve only dabbled in the past—in facts and flashbacks she’s had time to accept. They haven’t touched upon the fears that keep her up at night, the ones that leave her gasping for air, wondering what might be, or the doubts that make her feel hollow and wanting, as if she’s missing some essential piece of herself. Sometimes she wonders if a bit of her soul still lives in those small organs Dr. Laghari cut out. Emily presses her fingers against the scars hiding beneath the fabric of her shirt. The ache is still as real as when she woke up from surgery, healed but no longer whole.
There’s a reason she’s been alone for seven years, and it’s not just because of Jake. It’s because every time she gets to this moment right here, panic swallows her voice. It’s so much easier to run than to face it—to face the fact that she truly may not be enough. For a partner, yes. But really, for herself.
Jake puts his finger under her chin and gently lifts it until she meets his blue eyes, now warm as a summer’s day. There’s no worry or hesitation or doubt in his gaze, just love. “I’m listening.”
“The surgery,” she begins, but her throat closes up and she coughs to fight through it. He shifts his hand to the back of her neck to hold her steady, grounding her and giving her the strength she needs to say the rest. “It was a bilateral oophorectomy, which means they removed both my ovaries, the left one with the tumor but also the right one because they found evidence of precancerous cells. I was able to freeze nineteen eggs beforehand, and I still have my uterus, but—” Her voice hitches and she tries to cover it by licking her lips. He doesn’t waver. He doesn’t flinch. “But that’s not a guarantee. Not all the eggs survive the thaw, and even fewer become embryos, and even then, the implantation might fail. Some women are able to get pregnant using IVF, and some aren’t. I won’t really know until I try. And if the cancer comes back, which is thankfully less and less likely with every passing year, I may need a hysterectomy. So basically, what I’m trying to say is, well… There’s a chance I won’t— A chance I won’t be able to—”
Her voice fails her.
She finishes the sentence in silence.
There’s a chance I won’t be able to have kids.
A silent beat passes before a sob rips free of Emily’s lips, pulled from somewhere deep inside—the place where she’s been shoving all the unknowns for the past seven years, never speaking them aloud until now. In her heart, she’s still eighteen years old, grappling with the whiplash of finding out she was pregnant and realizing for the first time how much she wanted to be a mother, only to have that future so viciously and thoroughly wiped away. She never knew how much she wanted to have children of her own until the moment she was told she might never have them. Nineteen frozen eggs aren’t nothing. That’s more than some people will ever have. And yet those nineteen tiny chances seem too impossibly fragile to withstand the burden of all her hopes and dreams, to bear the weight of them.
It’s been easier not to think about it.
It’s been easier to focus on work.
It’s been easier to forget her personal life exists.
Or it was, until Jake.
In an instant, he’s there. He sweeps Emily into his arms and wraps her up tight. She curls into his chest and clutches his shirt, unable to stop the tears from falling from her eyes. He kisses them away, each touch of his lips a silent promise that he’s not going anywhere. And it’s everything she’s been missing for the past seven years. His strength. His conviction. His belief in her. He always had a way of making her feel stronger, more powerful, ready to take on the world.
“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers fiercely. His mouth moves over her skin, kissing every inch he can touch. Her forehead. Her eyebrow. Her nose. “No matter what happens, we’ll figure it out, Em. Together. We’ll do IVF. We’ll adopt. Hell, we’ll rescue some mangy little dog and treat her like our child, dress her up in clothes and shit. I don’t care.” He pulls back and grips her cheeks, searching her eyes for the faith, the belief, the hope they once held. “As long as we have each other, Em, nothing else matters.”
“You say that, Jake, but sometimes I think about that week we spent planning our future, and I remember that look in your eyes. You wanted the baby. You wanted that life. I know you did. And I might not be able to give it to you.”
“A life withyouwas what I wanted,” he urges, not an ounce of hesitation in his response. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and we’ve wasted enough time already. Seven years, Em. Seven fucking years we’ve wasted being scared. We were so afraid of what the other person might be giving up, we forgot what we’d be gaining. Each other. I don’t want to spend another day of my life without you in it. Be with me. Now. Forever. Just be with me, Em. Please. I want to be the person by your side, through good and bad. I want to celebrate with you. I want to catch your tears. I want the boring days, and I want the extraordinary ones too. I want them all, Em. I want all of you…if you’ll have me.”
Every ounce of love and trust in her heart quivers on the precipice.
Emily peeks at Jake through her lashes as a shudder works through her. At first, the vulnerability in his gaze confuses her. She’s too wrapped up in her own insecurities to hear the unspoken question at the end of his statement. But when it registers, every last bit of her fear drains away. In all her time spent aching to be chosen, she never realized it was all Jake wanted as well. He’s been standing on the sideline for six weeks watching her Hollywood love story unfold with thirty other men. Of course he’s unsure. Of course he doesn’t know her answer. Because she hasn’t told him he’s everything.
Every. Fucking. Thing.
But she will.
“Jake,” Emily murmurs, her voice going soft as she reaches up to grip the fingers cradling her cheeks. “You’re the only person I want. You always have been, ever since the first moment I saw you in the hallway at school. I was walking with my sister, nervous to be one of the new girls, surrounded by strangers. I was happy to let Sam bask in the glory of everyone’s attention while I hid behind her. Then I looked up, right into a bulbous black lens. You were looking at me. Somehow, I knew you were. And it was like, for the first time in my life, I felt seen—not as the other twin, but as myself. Then your friend muttered something and you dropped the camera with a scowl. The frown on your face was so adorable, I couldn’t help but fall right there. I ducked my head as soon as I felt my blush and tried to cover it with a laugh. I was so sure my crush was obvious. But then you didn’t talk to me for a week, until I went to your house to deliver those flowers. You remember?”
He nods and a hesitant smile passes over his lips.
Emily powers on. “I could barely speak standing so close to you. And I thought,God, Em. Get it together.But youstilldidn’t talk to me. So finally, on the night of that football game after an extensive pep talk from Sam, I went up to you. I dropped so many hints, but you didn’t seem to notice any of them. And then I asked you about filmmaking, and you asked me about my dreams, and there was this moment when you put your hand on my leg. Your palm was warm. Your fingers felt so large, so sturdy. And you looked at me—I mean, really looked at me, as if you could see exactly who I was even though we’d barely even met. You said,You’re going to do it.And I believed you. I believed in myself because of you.”
Emily pauses to shift on his lap, no longer cradled across his thighs but straddling them. Jake gazes up at her, adoration clear in his bright blue eyes. She hopes her feelings are just as obvious, painted in her gaze like a message only he can read.
“No one else has ever made me feel that way,” she says as she gathers his hands in hers and holds them against her heart. “No one on the show. No one back home. No one but you. So if you’re willing to face the unknown with me, the good and the bad of what the future might hold, and everything in between, of course I’ll have you. I feel lucky to have you—so fucking lucky, Jake, you have no idea. I love you.”
