to kick it wide open again. “I was wrong. Dead wrong.”
She nods carefully. “About what?”
That’s so very Scarlett. Open, earnest, but making sure that I deserve her. My God, I hope I can deserve her. “I thought I was protecting us by making a decision to end the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me,” I say, opening my whole heart to her.
Her lips shift into a grin. She tries to fight it. But she seems to have no luck. “The most wonderful thing ever?”
“Yes. That’s what you are. And I didn’t give us a chance.”
“That’s true. You didn’t give us the opportunity to learn how to trust each other, to feel truly safe with each other,” she says softly, but it’s not an indictment of me. It’s simply the truth.
“I know,” I say, wishing I could go back in time and fix things. But the world only spins forward. You can’t change the past. You can only live differently in the present. That’s what I must do with her. “I didn’t give you a chance. I said we couldn’t be together because I didn’t want to hurt you,” I say, then pat my chest, owning it. “But the truth is I’m terrified of being the broken one. I’m so damn scared of letting myself be loved again. Maybe even unconditionally. I don’t think I know how to be vulnerable. If I’m vulnerable, then I can be left. I’d thought I was protecting both of us. But I was only protecting myself. And in so doing, I didn’t protect you. I only hurt you. And I’m so very sorry.”
She lifts her hand as if to touch me, but then seems to think better of it, tucking her hands into her jeans pockets. Perhaps I haven’t said enough. Or maybe she has something to say.
A boat glides along the river, and a young woman with two toddlers in tow ambles along the path. Cars and buses trundle by on the avenue.
“Daniel, you’ve been through something terrible,” she says. “And when my father sent me his photos of dinner and ice cream, everything hit me all at once. How hard it was for you to open yourself up at last. At all, really. When I told you yesterday that I loved you, I didn’t get to say my piece. And so I’m going to say it now.”
She draws a deep breath, as if for courage. She casts her gaze to the river, her source of strength. Then finally she speaks. “I love you. I just do. And I want to give this a chance. I want to give us a chance. But mostly, I want to know that, if you’re here to ask for a second chance, you’re all the way in. That you’re ready for it,” she says, laying her heart on the line. “Because know this—I will be here for you. I will be here when you’re sad, when you’re hurt, when you’re happy, when you’re vulnerable, when you’re lonely, when you’re horny, and when you’re happy. I will be here for you. As your friend, as your lover, as your woman. All I ask is that you be here in this too.”
How could I not?
My heart thumps wildly, embracing her words.
I step closer, reaching for her, because I can no longer stand the thought of not touching her. I clasp her shoulders, then I run my hands down her arms. She shudders as I touch her.
“I want to know what it’s like to live again, to love again, and to feel again. Will you give me another chance?”
She laughs. Shakes her head. Laughs again. “Don’t you get it? That’s what I just said.”
I laugh too. “This is all new to me. But you need to know I’ve loved every second of the last week with you. I’m tired of moving through my days only half alive. I want to be fully alive, experiencing everything and experiencing it with you.”
She slides closer to me, looping her hands around my neck. “So experience me. Let’s take on the world together. Let’s do this thing here in Paris, you and me.”
“No ending. Just beginning every day.”
“Every day. And every night.”
I clasp her cheeks, bring her close, and kiss her like I’ve been searching for her for years.
I’m pretty sure I have. She is all I want. As we kiss by the river, I make a decision.
Because that’s what every moment is—a decision as to how you’re going to go on from