Page 152 of Heartbeat

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t hurt me!” he said, shaking his head. “Just don’t.”

Neither of us spoke for the longest time. We just kept looking at each other. I think it was the first time I’d been with him and didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, fuck this!” he eventually said, taking a step forward. He cupped my face with both hands and kissed me.

It had never been like that. I got instantly breathless and probably would have lost my balance had I not clutched his T-shirt with both hands. He then pulled away—but only just. Leaning his forehead down a bit until it met mine, he took the longest time to open his eyes, and once he did, he looked so worried. It was as though he was afraid I would open my mouth and say something that would continue to break his heart.

I didn’t. I couldn’t, not anymore.

Whatever strength I’d had that had allowed for me to keep my distance all that time had vanished the very instant I saw him sitting on that step, waiting for me. And it was the first and only time in my life I’d been glad to find myself lacking in courage. Neither of us dared to speak for what felt like endless minutes.

And yet.

As I looked into his eyes, I wondered if there was any need for the utterance of a single word that would make him understand what I felt. I wondered if I had to tell him how sorry I was, for the hundredth time. To have him listen as I let myself get too nervous at his very presence and end up rambling like I always did, having every thought escape my lips unfiltered, exposing themselves to him in all their incoherence—but without any sort of dread or fear of having them be misinterpreted.

I wondered if he knew it as he held me in a way that made our chests all but glued to each other; I wondered if he could feel how shallow my breathing was, how much I shook, and how my heartbeat was so strong it threatened to break through bone and skin to find his.

I decided there was no need to tell him anything just then. Instead, I stood on the tips of my toes to level our eyes so I could feel his lips on mine again. All of that, along with the thousands of thoughts that went through my mind as he held me. I could tell them to him another night. There was no need to speak of them at that moment. All I needed was to be present, to have him know that I was there with him. All the rest could wait, and so could I.

I could wait.

Epilogue

It was almost dark when we got to the lake. I parked the car and turned off the ignition, then leaned forward on the steering wheel and admired the old house for a few moments. It looked just as I remembered: big, warm, inviting. I didn’t experience that familiar feeling when going back to a place after a long time, and it seemed smaller or different overall from the imprinted mental image. It looked the same, just as it always had. When I turned to my right, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Wake up, baby,” I whispered, reaching my hand out and running my fingers through his hair.

Ethan had his arms folded over his chest and his head turned to the side, facing the window.

“Mmm,” he hummed, shifting on his seat. He turned to me but kept his eyes closed. “Are we there yet?” he murmured.

“We’re here,” I said softly.

He opened his eyes a bit and squinted as he adjusted to the light.

“God, I love waking you up.”

“Yeah?” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and took a deep breath.

“You always look like it’s the first time you’re seeing me,” I told him, earning a grin.

I leaned forward and gave him a slow kiss before getting out of the car.

“This place is huge,” he commented, yawning and stretching his arms over his head as he walked along beside me.

“Come. I want to show you around.” I led us to the front door and quickly unlocked it.

We stood in the main hall, by the circular staircase to the second floor.

“The kitchen is in the back, next to the dining room and the library. That’s the living room and upstairs; at the very end of the hall is our room.” I pointed out each room as I spoke.

“I wanna see our room.” He smirked, raising both eyebrows and tilting his head.

“Soon.” I went through the living room and opened one of the glass doors that led to the back porch.

I crossed the backyard, over to the edge of the water and next to an old white oak. My Super 8 was going crazy, but I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and was able to suppress it—if only for a while.

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