by McLean, Jay
I turn to him, my vision blurred. “I don’t know.”
He nods, understanding. “We came here together. It was her idea. She wanted to leave everything behind—”
“Parker?” I cut in.
“Yeah,” he breathes out. “That was the toughest part for her, but in the end, she chose to put herself and her happiness first, and I’m glad, Nate. I’m glad she came with me. Though, had she gone to Canada, I’d have gone with her, too, just to make sure it was all legit.” My eyes widen, and he nods again. “You were gone, Boss, and I knew you’d want me to look out for her.”
My exhale is shaky, so are my hands. I glance back at Bailey, watch as she starts wiping down a table.
“If you don’t want her to know you’re here, just say the word and I’ll never—”
“No,” I cut in. “I want to see her, obviously. I’m just...”
“You’re scared.”
My eyes drift shut. “It’s the second time I’ve abandoned her.”
“She won’t see it that way.”
“How do you think she’ll see it?”
“The way I do.” He pauses a beat. “She’ll see it as a second chance.”
I suck in a breath, release it slowly, and open my eyes again. I pull out my phone, ask Tiny, “Do you have her number?”
He shows me on his screen, and I enter it in mine, write out a text, and watch her before hitting send.
Nate: You’re so fucking beautiful, it pains me.
I watch as she stops her task, reaches into the pocket of the apron. She taps the phone a few times, her eyes narrowed, and then she slumps down, her entire body falling into a chair. She stares at the text, her hand to her heart. Her thumbs move quickly with her reply, and that’s when I notice the ring—my mother’s.
Bailey: If this is some sick joke, it’s not funny.
Then she swipes at her cheek, and that’s when I get out of the car and rush over to her, because I won’t let her shed one more tear over me. I stop only feet away, my throat burning with emotions when I say her name.
She looks up, her tear-filled eyes widening when she sees me. And then she just stares, her focus moving rapidly, my eyes, my nose, my mouth.
I squat down in front of her, my fingers itching to wipe away her liquid sadness. I raise my hand, stop just short of touching her. “Can I?”
Without responding, she reaches out, her fingertips stroking my jaw, and then my nose, my lips. Both hands cup my face now, and I swallow the knot in my throat. “You’re here,” she trembles, another tear falling, and this time I don’t ask for permission. I soak my skin in her sorrow and move forward an inch. She’s so close now, her breaths merge with mine, and I’ve dreamt of this moment but could never surrender to those dreams. For her. I stayed away for her, but now she’s here, and she’s everything I need and everything I’ve craved and she’s… she’s everything.
“You faked your death?”
“You gave me the idea.”
She doesn’t respond to this. She’s too busy taking me in, her breaths sharp, shallow.
I add, “Technically, I did die, but—”
“You did?” She’s pouting, and it might just be the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
“I missed you, Bai.”
“Oh god, Nathaniel. You have no idea…” She presses her forehead to mine, barely an inch separating our mouths. I close my eyes, my nose brushing hers, and then I kiss her. I kiss her the way I’ve dreamt about kissing her, and there’s no hesitation from her. No resistance. “Nate,” she says, pulling away—just her mouth, everything else is as close as we can get it. “I’m sorry I never told you—”
“I love you.” I beat her to it.
She kisses me again. Just once. And the words she says finally, finally, set my heart at ease. “Ti amo, mio bellissimo ragazzo spezzato.” I love you, my beautifully broken boy.
I spend the rest of her workday with her, which only lasts an hour or so before the majority of her customers leave to pick up their kids from school. According to her, the other food trucks stay open late, making the most of the dinner crowd. I help her pack up the tables and chairs and lock them away, along with the flowers she has laid out. It’s clear she’s been doing this a while because her closing routine is swift. Once everything’s packed, there’s barely any room in the truck, which is fine by me. Gives me more opportunities to touch her, to hold her close. I stand, my back to the counter with her between my legs, my hand on her jaw, and I just stare at her. I take in every little detail of her face, especially her eyes, her lips. And I kiss her. I can’t stop fucking kissing her. Her mouth, her neck, her jaw. And I can’t stop touching her, either, my hands hungry to re-memorize every curve, every inch.
“Nate,” she says, her head thrown back while I taste the spot on her neck where her pulse beats against her skin. She grasps the strands of my hair, and I moan in response. “I left my past behind.”
I’m quick to pull away, the heated lust burning inside me fizzling away. “Oh.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t mean you. I mean, what happened to us, and to me… I left it all behind, but…” Her gaze drops. “I never thought of you as my past. I only ever saw you as my future.”
When the sun begins to set, Bailey takes my hand, shows me the ladder that leads to the roof of the truck. I stare as she makes her way up, and with a smirk, I say, “I could watch you do that all damn day.”
“Shut up,” she laughs out, waiting at the top for me. Once I’ve joined her, she sits down, facing the view of the sun setting. I sit behind her, my legs outstretched on either side, my arms around her waist. “I come up here most nights to watch it set,” she says, adjusting so she’s sitting across my lap, her arm loose around my neck.
“I bet it’s beautiful.”
We don’t watch the sunset, though; we watch each other, and we talk. She has questions, and I have all the answers she needs. She doesn’t ask why I chose to do what I did, or about anything that happened afterward. She asks if I came for her, and I tell her the truth—that I came for Tiny. She laughs at that and mentions it was lucky they live next door to each other. That way it would be easy to share me. Apparently, Tiny has been a pillar of strength for her whenever she’s been down. It was his idea to buy the lot we’re on and open up the space for food trucks and the like, and it was her choice to do a coffee/flower shop. It was a good distraction and one she definitely needed. “I owe a lot to Tiny,” she says.
“I hear you. I feel the same.”
She tells me about Tiny’s girlfriend, a petite little thing similar to Ashton. She’s quiet as a mouse and the complete opposite of Tiny, but they work, and Bailey’s loved watching their love grow from a distance.
We spend hours up on that roof, well after the sun’s set, talking about anything and everything. On top of the world, we hold on to each other, our eyes never breaking contact, our lips never straying far. And our hearts… our hearts finally connecting. As one. “This,” she whispers, her palm against my heart. “This is loving freely.”
