Carried Away - P. Dangelico Page 0,74
that he’s here acting sheepish all I am is angry.
“I came to see you.”
“It’s been a month.”
He nods. “Yeah, I know.”
“You walked out and you wouldn’t let me explain.”
“I know.”
Frustration builds and soon I can feel the tears rising up, trying to break loose.
“I loved you. I loved you more that I have ever loved anyone and you wouldn’t even listen! You said we would always talks, and the first sign of trouble, you cut and run.”
He’s nodding, gaze cast down. “I know. I’m sorry…I never let myself love anybody. Not after my mother. But then Mike grew on me. He wouldn’t leave me alone. He forced me to be his friend…and then he died. And I was alone again.
“Then you came along and I…” He huffs. “I liked you right away. I didn’t think I deserved anyone like you, but I couldn’t stop wanting you. I just...Everyone I loved died…so I tried to…”
He exhales sharply. “…I think I was waiting for the shoe to drop on us for so long that when the story broke, I thought that was it.”
I watch him chew on the inside of his cheek. “I was scared of losing you…and I was tired of being scared…I love you, Carrie. No matter what happens here. You have to know that.” He takes two deep breaths. “I will love you with everything I am for the rest of my life. And if there is any chance that you could love me again, will you let me try?”
He looks so utterly lost, stripped bare, that I can’t hold onto my hurt feelings for a second longer.
“Come here,” I tell him.
He takes one slow step toward me. Then another. And another. Until his arms are around me and mine are around him. I take a deep breath of his chest, get on my toes and breathe in the skin of his neck.
I don’t need to waste a lifetime to figure it out what I already know. It’s all meaningless without someone to share the triumphs and the screw-ups.
Yes, Jake screwed-up. But then again, so have I.
“It was my fault,” I confess, because fair is fair.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Not purposely. He heard us talking––when he stayed overnight at the cottage.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Hugging me tighter, he kisses the top of my head.
“I love you too. You’re my once-in-a-lifetime, Turner. What are we going to do about that?”
He exhales deeply and I can hear the relief in it. “There are things I can change––like where I live––and things I can’t. And how I feel about you is one of them. I’ll get us a house tomorrow. All you have to do is say the word.”
Glancing up at him, I say the words I could never have anticipated in my wildest dreams. “I want to go home.”
I flicker of joy replaces the relief on his face. “Really?”
“Really.”
Epilogue
There are fish under my feet. I wiggle my toes and some try to mouth the glass. Technically, they’re tropical fish and––
“Is that a baby shark!” I yelp, more than a little alarmed.
My husband walks over and peers down at the glass tile floor in our over-the-water bungalow. Glancing up, he smiles and places a brief kiss on my lips.
“Bathing suit, Carebear. Get it on or we’ll be late for our dive.”
I’m suddenly feeling less than excited. “Do I have to?”
“Grand adventure.” He fights a smile.
“Yeah, but…”
Never have I eaten my words like I have with this man. I’ve invoked the mercy rule more times than I’d care to admit.
We celebrated my birthday in Patagonia. His at Machu Picchu. We’ve eaten breakfast in London and gone to sleep in Dubai. It’s been four years of non-stop adventures. But the best adventure of all by a million miles has been the two of us at home on the lake during the off-season. Quiet nights debating the merits and detriments of the European Union, sharing books, and stories.
Jake was right. I didn’t have to live in a big city to live a life worth writing about. I just had to live the one I had to the fullest, in the moment, and not always in anticipation of something better around the corner.
Hal retired and handed the Gazette over to me and Gray. I, in turn, handed the Editor In Chief job to Gray. It’s a funny thing, finally getting what you want––in my case it was recognition for my work––and realizing it isn’t what you thought it would be.
My column was syndicated. And it turns out, the most