Page 122 of Faking All the Way
I bite my lip hard enough to hurt, swallowing past the lump forming in my throat as he reveals another sign.
I SAID I DIDN’T EVER WANT TO FALL IN LOVE AGAIN, BUT I WAS WRONG.
A little smile tugs at his lips across the distance, something shifting in his expression. Something soft and hopeful that I can see even from here. He flips to a new sign.
I STARTED FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU THE FIRST DAY I MET YOU…
He lets that one sink in before showing the next.
AND NOW I CAN’T STOP.
My throat goes tight as tears burn my eyes, blurring my vision. I blink them away, not wanting to miss a single word. He flips to another sign, and his hand is shaking slightly. I can see it in the way the cardboard wavers.
I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO ANYTHING BUT LOVE YOU.
A sob escapes me before I can stop it. I press a hand to my mouth, trying to hold it in. But the tears are coming now whether I want them to or not. He flips several signs in quick succession, each one hitting me like a physical thing. Like punches to the gut, but in the best way.
I LOVE YOUR ART.
I LOVE YOUR DREAMS.
I LOVE YOUR SMILE.
Across the snowy space between buildings, he takes a step closer to his own window. Close enough that his breath is probably fogging the glass like mine is. I wish I could see his face even more clearly, see all the little micro-expressions passing through his features. The way his jaw tenses when he’s nervous, the way his eyes crinkle when he’s sincere. But even from here, I can see the emotion burning in his gaze.
He flips another sign, and this one makes fresh tears spill over.
I DON’T WANT THIS TO BE FAKE ANYMORE.
Then another, his movements getting faster now. More urgent.
I WANT IT TO BE FOREVER.
Another.
I WANT TO BUILD A LIFE WITH YOU.
He holds my gaze as he shows that one, something vulnerable passing over his features that reaches across the distance to something in me. Some part of me that’s been locked away, protected. He looks nervous, almost scared, like he’s putting everything on the line and doesn’t know if I’ll accept it or reject it, and it echoes my own feelings of fear so precisely. The terror that I won’t be enough for him, that the differences between our worlds are too much to overcome.
He flips another sign, and I read it through my tears.
I WANTED DENVER. I WANTED THIS CONTRACT.
I hold my breath, waiting. Not understanding where he’s going with this.
Then he shows the next sign, and my heart stops.
BUT I WANT YOU MORE.
He holds that sign up for several long beats, as if willing me to believe it. To accept the truth of what he’s saying. I read it once, then again. Then a third time, trying to make my brain accept what my eyes are seeing as tears stream down my cheeks, hot against my skin.
Then he flips over another sign, his movements deliberate.
IF YOU DON’T THINK THERE’S ROOM IN THAT LIFE FOR YOU, WE’LL BUILD A DIFFERENT LIFE.
He flips between signs again, holding the next one up even higher, making sure I can see it clearly.
I’LL GIVE UP THE CONTRACT. PLEASE JUST GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE.
