Jesse is still quiet, still staring. I almost think he’s gone somewhere else mentally, like he’s ignoring me. Finally, he speaks.
“I was four the first time I realized my mom was gone. I mean, of course I knew it before then. But when I was four, it really hit me what it meant.”
I stare at him, not sure what this has to do with anything. Still, the serious look on his face tells me this is something he needs to say, so I listen.
“It was my birthday party. Dad didn’t have a lot of money, of course, but he’d scraped together enough to have a cake and ice cream for a few of my preschool friends. I remember sitting there, staring at my cake, not wanting to eat it. I thought that if I didn’t take a bite of that cake, she’d come. I thought if I could just wait a few more minutes, if I could just not take a bite of that cake, Mom would come back. It was my birthday. Surely she’d show. I felt like if I took a bite of the cake, though, it was over. She wasn’t going to come. I know now it was irrational and made no sense. But at the time, it was real to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He goes on, ignoring me, needing to finish telling the story. “She never showed, and I never took a bite of that cake. I couldn’t. Dad tried to console me, to tell me I had plenty of people who loved me, and that Mom didn’t want to leave. I didn’t understand. And when I did understand years later, the sadness turned to something else. It turned to hate. I hated her. I hated her for leaving us. I hated her for not showing up. I hated her for walking out.”
I turn now to rub his arm, to squeeze his hand. I can see, even now, the pain on his face. I can see the sense of loss.
“I still hate what she did to us, especially to my dad. I hate that I spent so many years wishing on a fake star that she’d come home. I hate that. But over the years, I’ve come to realize something. We just weren’t what she had in mind for her life. We weren’t the dream she had. I hate that we weren’t. I hate that we weren’t enough for her. But then, I also can’t blame her for pursuing her dreams, even if they were selfish. She just wanted to live a different life. I don’t understand it. I don’t like it. But I can’t hold it against her, because I don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in a life you don’t want.”
“You should have been her dream.”
“Yes. But sometimes people need more than what we think they should want. They need something else. It isn’t always about love or about being with someone. Sometimes it’s about needing something else, somewhere else, deep in your core.”
His words shake me. I’m afraid of where this is going.
“Avery, I love you with every fiber of my being. I didn’t want to love you. I didn’t want to lose my heart to you, because I was terrified it would get broken. I was terrified that like so many other women in my life, you’d leave.”
“I won’t. I’m not.”
“Listen, please,” he says, kissing my cheek. “I was so afraid of losing you that I didn’t want to love you. But I did anyway. I fell in love with you. I want nothing more than to spend my days here, right here, you by my side, staring at the horizon. But that’s not fair. It’s not fair that because I’m afraid to lose you, you should stay here. It’s not fair that I should make you stare at the horizon when beyond it, there’s so much more for you.”
“Jesse, I don’t want what’s beyond it. I want what’s right here, what I’ve found.”
“But I think you do want what’s beyond. It was your dream. And yes, you’ve found a new version of you, of your life, that you can appreciate these past few months. You’ve found a love between us that you can trust in. Deep down, I think a piece of you knows that what you have in Pittsburgh, what you could have, is so much more. It’s what you worked so hard for. I can’t let our love hold you back. You need to go.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“And I don’t want to hold you here. I don’t want you deciding your future based on us. I don’t want you to feel like my mom did—trapped. I want you to be free to explore your wildest dreams, even if that means I have to let you go.”
Tears are coming to my eyes. I stare at those green eyes, the ones that opened up the entire world for me over the course of a few months. In them, I now see something else.
Loss.
I’m losing him, whether I go or not.
“Jesse, I love you.”
“I love you, too. And that’s why you need to go.”
I want to argue and fight. I want to shove him, to tell him he’s wrong.
I want to beg him to come with me, but the unspoken words between us tell me this isn’t fair. I know what his parlor, what this dream means to him. As much as he can’t ask me to give up my dreams, I can’t ask him to give up his.
So instead, I accept his kiss, a gentle, hesitant kiss. I feel his lips on mine for what could be the last time.
A part of me wants to get up and pull him back, to make him see how wrong he is. I don’t, though. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s because I’m hurt that he’d let me go so easily.
Or maybe it’s because a piece of me thinks he might just be right.
So when Jesse Pearce gathers Jake, pats Henry goodbye, and dutifully marches through the sand toward his home without me, I turn and look back at the horizon. The sun is fading slowly, and the day is turning into night. My days as the wild and free beach girl feel like they’re long gone. The stars are shining with the truth.
I opened my heart back up to Jesse Pearce, but that doesn’t mean forever will be ours.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Days pass. Long, agonizing days that shoot me back into a state of remorse and confusion. I miss the hell out of him, and it’s only been a few days.
Worst of all, I still don’t think going home is what I want, despite what Jesse said. Why does every decision have to be so damn complicated? Why can’t this be like a movie where the heroine knows exactly what she should do when every choice comes her way?
Of course, in my flannel pajamas and with a scrunchie in my hair, I’m not quite a heroine. I’m just a mess.
“You know, you could put an end to this misery,” Jodie says, plopping on the couch beside me and handing me a cup of coffee. It’s late, and we’re both done with our shifts at Midsummer. I spent the night trying to paint on a sad excuse for a smile, which Jodie told me looked more like a constipation face. Lysander also noticed because he gave me an extra break complete with a Love-in-Idleness.
“We’ve talked about this.”
“And I’ve told you you’re making a mistake,” she says. “You know you don’t want to go back home, or you’d be there. You know what you have with Jesse is more than some fling. You know your heart won’t let you just leave him. So why don’t you tell him?”
I shake my head, staring at the coffee table as I warm my hands on my mug of coffee. “He didn’t fight for me. He wants to let me go. He was willing to let me go.”
Jodie puts a hand on my knee, shaking me. “He’s just scared. He loves you. But he doesn’t want to hold you back. Look at his past. He’s been there. He’s had two women walk out on him because they weren’t happy with him. I think he’s just afraid if he tells you to stay, you’ll regret it and hold it against him. He’s afraid you’ll walk out eventually.”
“But I’m scared, too. I’m scared he’ll walk out. I’m terrified to give my heart back to a man who was okay with letting me go. If he was okay with me leaving, maybe it wasn’t real in the first place.”
“In his warped mind, he probably thought he was doing the right thing. He thought you needed him to let you go. It makes no sense. Neither of you make sense right now. You love each other. Stop being scared. Stop letting fear in the way. Stop pretending this is about deciding whether or not to take your dad’s offer. This is about you needing an out. It’s about both of you finding an out so you have an excuse not to be completely, one hundred percent in. You’re afraid of getting hurt.”
“I just love him so much that it scare
s me.”
“Then cling to him. Make it work. Jump in, Avery. Not halfway. Not in the shallow end. Jump the hell in. No matter what you do in life, you have to make choices. There’s always a risk you’re going to regret it. But which will you regret more—letting go of the family business, or letting go of Jesse?”
I stare, not answering her, silence doing the talking for me.
It’s him. It’s always been him. I came to Ocean City swearing I wouldn’t fall in love again. Yet, it feels like all along, I was meant to fall for him. I was meant to find him.
I came here to find the new Avery, but it was Jesse who helped me figure out who she was. From our spontaneous trips to the beach to parasailing to the painting business, he helped me figure out who I want to be. He makes me who I want to be. I am only the new Avery with him by my side, because he’s by my side.
It’s not that a man is dictating my life or defining me. It’s that this man makes me want to live my life and define myself.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I don’t know what you’re doing at work,” Lysander says the next night, Tuesday night. “Jodie filled me in that you realize what a fool you’re being. Why the hell aren’t you having hot make-up sex with Jesse right now?”
“Well hello to you too, boss. Glad I showed up like a responsible adult,” I say, teasing.
“No seriously. What are you doing? Get the hell over there,” Reed says. He’s sitting at the bar, drinking a martini and eating some fried mushrooms.
“I just… I don’t know what to do or how to handle this. I don’t know if he’s going to feel the same way. I’m scared.”
“If I hear that word one more time,” Jodie teases, snagging a mushroom from Reed’s basket. “I told her to run over there last night. I told her to go over this morning. I told her to text him. The woman’s impossible.”
I sigh, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. She’s right. I am impossible. But every time I play in my head what to say, what to do, I freeze. It just felt like Jesse left things so final. Am I prepared to go back and tell him it was a mistake? What if he disagrees? What if the past few days have given him a sense of clarity that doesn’t match mine?
“Well, it’s Tuesday, lucky for you. So he should be in any moment,” Jodie says, winking before heading back to work.
She’s right. I knew this was coming. I knew Tuesday was coming.
The rest of the night, I’m an anxious ball of nerves, trying to focus on work but simultaneously keeping an eye on the booth in the corner. Sweaty palms and frizzy hair in my face, I try to quell the knot in my stomach.
Even though I’m not sure what to say and even though I’m worried things with Jesse may never quite go back to how they were, staring at the empty booth in the corner, I realize one thing.
The fear of talking to Jesse, of giving up my family business to be with him, isn’t as scary as the prospect of facing a life without him. The empty booth makes me realize that a life without him will be exactly that—empty. The booth, cold and aloof, seems to be illuminated by a spotlight, not just in Midsummer Nights, but in my mind. I can’t focus, can’t do anything, without noticing the gaping emptiness of it.
Without Jesse, the booth doesn’t look right.
Without Jesse, I’m not right, either.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jodie, Reed, and Lysander try to convince me to go out for drinks after work. I turn them down. I feel like I need time to think, to figure out what I want to say to Jesse. I head home, take a shower, and grab a sweatshirt. I hook up Henry’s leash, needing to get out of the apartment to clear my head. The ocean air, although chilly at this time of year, will do me good.
I put my hood up as Henry and I head toward the boardwalk. It’s too cold to go down to the water, so we head for the bench in front of Midsummer Nights. I think about all the times this summer Jesse and I sat on the bench, looking out at the sand and the water. I think about our kisses, our confessions, and our moments there. I think about our late-night walks with Jake and Henry.
I think about how crazy I was to even consider giving it up. Looking at that booth tonight made me feel more empty than the day I found Chris cheating on me. It made me feel worse than the long nights that followed, alone in our bed, thinking about the bleak future.
The breeze chills me, but I welcome its icy fingers grabbing hold of my face. It matches the feel of my heart right now.
“Is this seat taken?” a deep, gritty voice says. My heart chills. I turn to see the green eyes I was just thinking about.
Jake is with him, hooked to a leash. Henry practically pulls me off the bench to see his best friend. I grin, and Jesse pulls Jake toward the bench to sit beside us. After a few moments of being tangled in leashes and interrupted by the joyous barks of two dogs, everyone quiets down. A silence pervades the bench, underscoring the tension between us.
“You didn’t come to your booth tonight,” I say, not sure how else to start this conversation.
He sighs. “I needed time to just be alone and think about things.”
I nod, waiting for him to go on.
“Avery, I know I said I could let you go. I know I said this was what was best. But can I be honest?”
I nod again, still playing the role of a mute.
“I was a fucking moron.”
I feel myself jump back a little, surprised at his bluntness. “What do you mean?” I ask, only because it feels like basically the only thing I can say in response.
“I’ve been miserable since I left the beach that day, since I told you to go. I want you to pursue your dreams. I want you to be happy. But dammit, I don’t want to let you go. So if you still want to be with me, if you still love me the way I think you do, then take me with you. Let me come to Pittsburgh with you.”
“What about J & J’s?” I ask, stunned by his confession.
“It was my dream when I didn’t have anything to cling to in this world. But sometimes dreams change. I have a new dream now, and she’s sitting beside me. Dad would want me to be happy. And I can’t be that without you. You’re my new dream, Avery. I know it’s a big risk, and I know love is never promised. But I love you. I’m willing to take the risk.”
I look down at my hands, fiddling with a ring I’m wearing. Finally, after I take in everything he’s just said, I turn to look at him. “I’ve been miserable without you, too. I wanted to call you so many times. I wanted to talk to you. But I was scared. I was scared that maybe you letting me go was a sign you weren’t feeling what I was. I know that’s stupid. But I was insecure and afraid. I’m not taking the job, Jesse. I’m not leaving. My dreams have changed too. I don’t want to leave what I’ve built here. Most of all, I don’t want to leave you. I know I promised myself I wouldn’t make choices based on love anymore, but you were a game changer. You crossed the line I drew in the sand around my heart. You found your way in. I love you with everything I am. You’re worth the risk.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, realizing our hearts are true and crystal clear. With Jake and Henry at our feet, we lean into each other, meeting halfway, our lips sealing the words we’ve just spoken. We kiss to make up for the time we’ve lost and for the fears we felt of losing each other. We kiss away any doubts we had and our almost goodbye. We kiss ourselves into a new future that still isn’t certain, but is steadfast in its own right. We kiss away our previous notions about love.
We kiss, the new versions of Jesse and Avery with new dreams, fewer fears, and more love. When we pull back, we look at each other for a long moment, knowing without a doubt this is right where we both belong.
Our pasts melt away as this new, exciting thing between us promises to be real. We can’t wipe away the hurt and rejection we’ve been through. We can’t promise this will be perfect and ideal. We can’t promise our love will tattoo itself indelibly on our hearts and outlast every obstacle.
For now, though, we can promise our love is genuine and is what makes us both happy.
Our love is what makes me the Avery I’ve always wanted to be.
So when Jesse looks at me under the starry sky, Henry now snoring at my feet, and asks, “Will you move in with me?” I don’t hesitate. I don’t think about the rational choice or the safe decision. I don’t think about what the old Avery would say or what the Avery from a few months ago would do.
I think in the moment with the clarity of my heart’s desire and the feeling in my gut. I turn to Jesse, those green eyes still piercing deep into me, and I say, “I want to jump in with you. All the way in, freezing cold water or not. So, yes.”
He kisses me again, and I succumb to the idea that I didn’t come here to find love—but it found me anyway. I realize I’m more than okay with that as our kissing turns more heated and the chilly autumn air warms with the heat from our bodies and the love radiating between us.
Epilogue
A love/hate relationship with parasailing, a confidence in my painting, a new tattoo on my shoulder, a mural painting business, and a taste for fried pickles.
That’s some of what he gave me so far… but the list keeps growing every day.
I came here for a new start, a new life, and a pact to not let a man back into this damaged heart of mine. Still, without even planning on it, Jesse found his way into my dented, bruised heart.
Neither of us thought we were ready for this. We told ourselves we weren’t ready for love. We thought we were destined to be alone, better off alone.
Once we realized our hearts were inked with a love for each other we couldn’t deny, however, we learned sometimes love has different plans than we do. Sometimes you can’t fight what wants to be felt. Sometimes you just have to learn to make room for a new plan, a new future, because you realize your life without him isn’t really living at all.
I’m not stupid. I’ve learned the hard way that, like tattoos, love isn’t permanent. Even a tattoo can be scorched off with copious amounts of time, money, and pain or changed into something new.
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