All The Ways You Saved Me

by Jamie Howard

  I loved her.

  I hadn’t wanted to, had fought it the entire time. It happened anyway. And somehow, I found that my love for Bianca didn’t diminish my love for Maggie. The two things had no bearing on each other whatsoever.

  I’d loved Maggie with every single part of myself, and she’d loved me just as fiercely. A love like that never really died, but I found there was room in me for something else. Maybe not that exact kind of love, but something equally as strong. Maggie had loved me when I was whole, but Bianca loved me when I was only a shadow of myself. She loved me when I pushed her away. She loved me when I couldn’t offer her anything, much less my heart. She even loved me when I couldn’t stop loving Maggie.

  Was there a word that meant more than lucky? Because that? That’s what I was.

  Chapter 41: Bianca

  I flipped through one of my bar exam prep guides, one finger tracing the text, my other hand whipping notes onto the page. My hand cramped, my eyes crossing from staring at the tiny text for so long. I glanced at my phone, seven o’clock. One more hour and I’d call it quits.

  My little corner of the library was dimly lit, but quiet. Private, too. Single-mindedly I kept at it. Cutting off everything else, shutting out all sounds, I powered through. I dimly registered that someone sat down at the table across from me, but didn’t pay them any mind. People were always coming and going. It was just like I was back at Columbia. The world continued to revolve around me, but I wasn’t part of it. It was just me, my textbook, and my notes. Nothing else.

  I dotted my last period with force, dropping the pen and massaging my palm. By the time I got around to taking the bar, my hand would be curled in a permanent claw. I tilted my head left, then right, stretching my neck.

  Finally, I let my surroundings come back into focus, and almost upended my chair when I realized who had sat down across from me. I really needed to start paying better attention to the world around me. And checking who was there before opening the door.

  “Hey,” Ian said. He breathed out the word like he’d been holding it in for hours. The corners of his mouth tipped up in a smile, but every single muscle in his body was tensed.

  My gaze coasted over him, coming to a halt at the bruise that was purpling his eye. “What happened to your face?”

  His hand drifted up to prod against his cheek, and he winced. “Your roommate really didn’t want to tell me where you were.”

  “Harper did that?”

  “I get the feeling she let me off easy. Can’t say I really blame her either.” His eyes darted away from me, sweeping around the library. “So, you’re back?”

  “Yup.” The conversation was getting more awkward by the second.

  “Are your, um . . .” He coughed into his hand. “Your parents are okay with you being here?”

  I barked out a laugh. “No, but that’s not really my primary concern anymore.”

  “Good for you.”

  An uncomfortable silence settled between us.

  “Listen, I probably should have called you and told you I was back in town, I just—”

  “Didn’t want to?” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

  I wanted to laugh, but cut it off before it bubbled out of my mouth. Oh, I’d wanted to call him. More times than I could possibly count. I’d come close to deleting his number from my phone, but wasn’t willing to sever that last, final string between us. My desire wasn’t the problem. Knowing that it was pointless, that nothing’d changed—that was the problem, and I wasn’t a total masochist.

  “It wasn’t that,” I finally admitted. “I just didn’t see the point. We’ve both said everything that we needed to.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. There’s so much more that I need to say.”

  My heart seized up at his words, fluttering so rapidly in my chest it was like a thousand dragonflies were trying to escape it.

  “I should start with, I love you.” His smile took my breath away, so warm and bright that it crinkled the corners of his eyes. “And then I should tell you that you were right. About everything. I thought that falling for you somehow invalidated what I felt for Maggie, but I realized it wasn’t an either-or situation.” He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising with it. “I’m always going to love Maggie. I hope you can understand that and see that it doesn’t make what I feel for you any less.” Another pause, and he swallowed, still smiling but losing steam. “I realize I’m not the best catch, and I know there’s so much more left to tell you. So much that I never let you know. And someday, I’d like to tell you about Maggie. I mean . . . if you want.” His face immediately dropped into a frown, color creeping into his cheeks. “I wouldn’t force you if you didn’t. I get it that you might not—”

  “Ian.” I ran my hands down over my thighs, shutting my eyes. “Stop.”

  My head was spinning, like someone had forced me to ride the Tilt-A-Whirl for an hour straight. Something that was part excitement, part anxiety curled into my stomach. It felt a lot like hope.

  The sound of his chair scratching against the carpet made my head jerk up. He pushed to his feet, fingers splayed across the table.

  I waited for him to look at me before I said, “Sit down.”

  He sat.

  I found my feet, and took the four steps necessary to reach his side. His eyes widened as I lowered myself into his lap, one hand dropping to rest on the outer edge of my thigh. He’d said everything I needed to hear, but words and actions were miles apart.

  Resting my forearm against his shoulder, I ran my fingers through his hair. It was soft and thick, and on the verge of needing a cut. I twirled the end around my fingertip, then brought up my thumb to run it underneath his eye, barely touching the discolored skin.

  I wasn’t looking at the bruise, though; I was looking at him, straight into his eyes. And for the first time, he wasn’t flinching from my gaze or pulling away. He was letting me look as deep as I wanted, hiding nothing from me. It was all right there for me to see.

  I ran my other hand down his neck, over the thick muscle that corded there. I traced the sharp edge of his collarbone through his shirt, and slid my fingertips over the bumpy fabric of his thermal shirt. The muscles of his forearm flexed underneath my touch, and even when the pad of my thumb grazed against the underside of his wrist, I didn’t pull my gaze away. “Tell me about the hummingbird.”

  He sighed, and his warm breath floated over my skin. “It’s for her, for Maggie, but I’m guessing you already figured that out. It was the last one I got before . . .” His tongue darted out, running over his lips as he swallowed. “The first day I saw her, in the library at my school, she had this little doodle of a hummingbird on her sneaker. It stuck with me, and it just seemed to fit her—beautiful, vibrant, couldn’t sit still. So when she asked me to get one for her, I knew this would be it.” He blinked, but it was more like he was hiding behind his eyelids. “She never even saw it.”

  “She would have loved it.”

  The left side of his mouth tilted up. “You didn’t even know her.”

  I slid my hand down the side of his face and traced the pad of my thumb over his lower lip. “I love it when you smile. You should never stop.”

  “You do that to me.” His free hand lifted to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Lowering his head toward me, he whispered, “I really, really want to kiss you right now, but before I do, I have to ask you something. Did you ever finish your list?”

  I shook my head.

  Adjusting me on his lap, he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper. He pressed it into my hand. I didn’t have to unfold it to know this was Renée’s list. The original copy. The list Eli left behind in my apartment, in his haste to get me back home. “Where did you get this?”

  “That night at the museum, I came after you. I had no idea what the hell I was planning on saying, but that didn’t stop me from running. I wasn’t fast enough, though, and you were gone by the time I got there. When I knocked on
your door, it was open. The rooms were dark, and it was clear it’d been cleaned out. I went to leave, but I saw this attached to the front of the refrigerator. I thought you’d want it back.” He shrugged. “I meant to give it to you when I came to your house, but I never got around to it.”

  Smoothing the sheet of paper against my leg, I looked over it. Only two things remained—send a message in a bottle and save someone’s life. “I thought about it when I was home. Finishing it off, I mean. It didn’t seem right to do it without you, though.” I laughed. “Besides, I still haven’t figured out how in God’s name I’m going to save someone’s life.”

  Another smile played across Ian’s lips. “You already did.”

  “What?” My mouth did the opposite of his and frowned. “I think I’d remember that.”

  His hand found mine, pulling it up so that he could lace our fingers together. “Bianca, you saved my life.”

  I was tempted to brush it off with a joke. Make light of the situation. But there wasn’t even a hint of teasing in his eyes. He was dead serious.

  “After Maggie died, I went to a really dark place. Everyone wanted the real Ian back, and they didn’t care how it happened. There was our deal, the label, so much riding on me. Ben pushed me toward one psychiatrist, the label shoved me at another. Both of them gave me pills, recommended counseling. I did neither. Which, in retrospect, probably wasn’t the best idea.” He drew in a deep breath and pinched his lips together. “But I did have the pills, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider using them—all of them, at the same time.” His eyes lifted to mine, searching to make sure I understood what he was hinting at.

  The blood roared in my ears as the implication sunk in. I squeezed his hand, hard enough that I could feel his bones. It seemed unimaginable that I’d come that close to never even meeting him. God, how different my life would be.

  “I couldn’t do it though,” he said. “It felt like cheating. So, I flushed them, and that was that. You have to understand that even though I was alive, I wasn’t really living. Not really. Not until the day that some beautiful stranger bought me a cup of coffee.” The smile was back for an encore, and this time, it didn’t look like it ever planned on leaving. “You may not have known it; hell, I didn’t even know it, but every day since that one, you’ve been saving me.”

  This time I didn’t hesitate to go for what I wanted. My lips were on his, his hands were on my back, my neck, running through my hair. Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered but this. There was no holding back, no more hiding. My heart cracked down the middle just like it was supposed to because this, this was gratefully handing over half of my heart and getting half of his back in return.

  When I finally came up for air, I rested my forehead against his. “I probably should have mentioned it before, but I am so in love with you.”

  He heaved out a sigh of relief. “You had me worried for a little bit there.”

  “Shut up. You totally knew.”

  He shook his head. “Knew? No. Hoped. Definitely hoped.” His lips brushed against mine one more time. “Do you know what today is?”

  “Umm . . . Thursday?”

  “Thursday,” he repeated, the words jumping the small gap from his lips to mine. “My favorite day.”

  This time my heart smiled, and I didn’t think it planned on stopping anytime soon. “Mine too.”

  Epilogue: Bianca

  It’d taken almost a year to finish Renée’s list when all was said and done. I stood on the edge of the pier, a long, thin bottle clutched between my fingers. Inside curled a piece of white paper, the edges fraying from where I tore it from my notebook.

  I always thought that I’d be sending my message to Renée, but when it came down to it, I realized that everything I had to say, she already knew. I didn’t have to tell her that this list didn’t only save Ian’s life, it saved mine. It saved me from a future I didn’t want, a family who didn’t value me, and a lifetime of disappointments. Not a day went by that I didn’t thank her for pushing me to be the person she always knew I was.

  Ian rested a hand on my shoulder, stepping up behind me. “I still can’t believe you won’t let me read it.”

  I shook my head again, maybe for the thousandth or so time. “It’s not for you.”

  “So you’ve said.” His hand trailed down over my arm, and his other joined it, slipping both around my waist, lacing them together against my stomach. “You want me to do it?”

  I rolled the bottle between my hands, the glass smooth against my palms, and leaned back against his chest. “Nope.” Drawing back my arm, I tossed the bottle out in an arc. It twirled in the air, the sun catching it in mid-flight, before it was captured between the waves. We watched it, Ian’s chin resting on the top of my head, until it finally disappeared from sight.

  Rationally, I knew the water would swallow my note. That eventually the ink would bleed and the paper would disintegrate into nothing when the water seeped through the cork. But just the act of writing it down, putting it out there in the world, made me feel like it was possible she’d know. That even if she couldn’t read it, the message might still find its way to her.

  And even though the bottle floated away in cold water, I’d read it enough times to know exactly what it said:

  Dear Maggie,

  I wish I could have known you. Then again, I’m infinitely grateful that I never did.

  I should probably tell you that I’m in love with your husband. In any other situation this note would be received quite differently, but I get the feeling that you’d be happy about it. Maybe that’s naive on my part, or just plain hopeful, but I think you loved him enough for it to be true.

  I guess what I really want to say is: thank you. Thank you for loving him. Thank you for being good enough for him. Thank you for being everything he needed.

  Because now, he’s absolutely everything that I need.

  I want you to know that I love him so much that some days it takes my breath away. And I hope, if you knew me, you’d think I deserved him too.

  I’m keeping him safe for you. Loving him when you can’t. And always, always realizing how lucky I am to have found him.

  —Bianca

  Acknowledgments

  Writing tends to be a lonely, solitary experience, but behind-the-scenes there are so many people who take a manuscript and make it what’s in your hands today. I am so grateful to have so many amazing people in my corner. There will never be enough thanks to express how much you all mean to me.

  First and foremost, I’d like to thank every single reader, reviewer, and blogger who picked up this story. Thank you for taking a chance on me, on this book, and on a story that holds a very special place in my heart. Hearing from you all is always the highlight of my day.

  To my amazing, fantastic, don’t-know-what-I’d-do-without-you agent, Jessica Watterson—thank you for loving this story as much as I did. And for putting up with my unique brand of crazy. Your support and enthusiasm are everything.

  A huge thank-you to the entire team at St. Martin’s. Especially to my fabulous editor, Eileen Rothschild. I’m so happy to be working with you again on this series.

  To Meredith Tate, CP extraordinaire, for her insightful feedback, unending enthusiasm, and general awesomeness. Thank you for everything. You keep me sane.

  To the NAC—I’m so grateful to have all of you. To Kelly Siskind and Heather Van Fleet—you girls are the absolute best. To Kate, Diana, Mer, Bindu, Amanda, and Marie—I live for our group texts and miss you guys something fierce. To Amanda (again) for being a serious rock star and helping me nail down this series title. And to the lovely ladies of The Hookup—you make me laugh, smile, and swoon. There’s a reason you’re my favorite corner of the internet.

  Much love to my entire family. To Aidan, for always keeping me on my toes. To my mom, for literally everything. To my dad, for always believing in me. To Amanda, for imparting her tattoo wisdom on me. To Kelley, for graciously sacrificing her
time looking for the perfect Ian with me.

  Lastly, to Steve—the right words haven’t been invented to describe all that you are to me. So, for now, I love you will have to do.

  About the Author

  Jamie Howard is a legal and compliance specialist by day, author by night, and holds a Bachelor’s degree in Art. When she’s not tapping away at the keyboard or capturing the world through her trusty Canon, you can find her binge-watching TV shows, devouring books, and perfecting her gaming skills. She lives with her husband, son, and three dogs in New Jersey, and is almost always awake early enough to see the sun rise, even on weekends.

  Jamie is the author of Until We Break, Until It’s Right, and the Love Unplugged series. She is represented by Jessica Watterson of the Sandra Dijkstra Literary Agency.

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Bianca

  Chapter 2: Bianca

  Chapter 3: Bianca

  Chapter 4: Bianca

  Chapter 5: Bianca

  Chapter 6: Bianca

  Chapter 7: Bianca

  Chapter 8: Bianca

  Chapter 9: Bianca

  Chapter 10: Ian

  Chapter 11: Bianca

  Chapter 12: Bianca

  Chapter 13: Bianca

  Chapter 14: Ian

  Chapter 15: Bianca

  Chapter 16: Ian

  Chapter 17: Bianca

  Chapter 18: Ian