Poison & Wine - Melissa Toppen Page 0,62
and no one else. They aren’t some ploy to worm my way back into your life. And I never would have shown them to you had you not found them yourself. But I need you to hear me, Oakley. I need you to hear me and believe me when I say that I love you as much today as I did four years ago. As much as I did thirteen years ago when I first saw you walking that ratty ass dog down our street. But that’s not entirely true either, because for how much I loved you back then, it doesn’t even compare to how much I love you now.”
I drop my hand, taking a small step back as I grip the hem of my t-shirt, tugging it upward. Oakley’s eyes go from my face, to the exposed area of skin just below my chest.
Her face pales when she sees the tattoo on the side of my ribs. The bent arrowhead dripping droplets of blood pointing directly at my heart. Oakley written in small lettering along the shaft in a swirling font.
“I got this a couple of years ago. In a weird way it made me feel closer to you.” I let my shirt fall back down. “Even when we were worlds apart, I’d run my fingers along the ink and feel like a part of you was still with me.” I tip her chin up, forcing her gaze to mine. “I can’t promise you the world, Oakley. I can’t promise that loving me again won’t come with challenges or that every day will be a walk in the park. But I can promise you that no one will ever love you the way I do. I’ll never stop fighting for you. For us. It’s all I want. The life we used to talk about. I’ve spent four years punishing myself for giving that life away. I’m done now. I want you. I want us. And I won’t apologize for it.”
“I…” She seems at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you feel the same way. Say you want this too. Tell me I haven’t lost you forever.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say these things. How long I’ve wished for it. How badly I’ve wanted you to be a part of our lives. But…” she stops herself, her back going ramrod straight.
Wait… Did she just say our lives? Before I have time to process it, she’s moving toward the door.
“I… I… I need to go.” She turns toward the door. “I have to go,” she repeats, her voice shaking.
“Oakley.” I reach for her but she shakes me off.
“I just… I need some time to think, Jace. Please. After everything, the least you can do is give me some time.”
“Okay,” I reluctantly agree. The last thing I want her to do is walk out of this room, but I get that what I laid on her was a lot. Probably a hell of a lot more than she expected when she came storming in here. “When you’re ready to talk, you know where to find me.” I attempt to lighten the mood, but no trace of a smile touches her lips.
A hard knot forms in my stomach. Maybe I read this wrong. Maybe her inviting me to stay really was only because she felt bad for me. Maybe the other night really only happened because she had too much wine. Maybe this whole time I’ve been seeing what I want to see instead of what’s right in front of me.
But as Oakley backs out of the apartment, her tear-filled gaze swinging back to me one last time, I’m fairly certain that’s not the case.
The door snaps closed moments later and the silence of the room engulfs me. I stand rooted to the same spot for several moments, my mind swirling around everything that just transpired.
I had planned to tell Oakley all of this at some point, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon. Or for it to happen the way it did. Maybe it’s a good thing she found my journals. Maybe now she can see what I’m fighting for. Her.
But then what she said right before she sprinted out of the apartment comes back to the forefront of my mind. She said our lives…
Who does our entail and what the hell does that even mean?
Turning, I make my way back toward the bed, collapsing down on top of