Waiting for December, page 22
Andrea gets to her feet. “Listen, I’ll wait for my coffee at the counter and take it to go. That way you two can continue talking. I’ll see you back at the house, Sky. And Harper,” she smiles, “see you on Christmas Eve.”
Christmas Eve. Not a day I want to be reminded of right now.
Sky takes Andrea’s seat, scooching closer to me, and when our eyes meet, his expression is pained.
“I really would have told you,” he reinforces.
“Sky, stop, it’s okay. I know you would have.”
Sky looks down at the table, and when he looks back up, he sighs and says, “It was my junior year of college. We were high school sweethearts and both went to college in Boston to be near one another. We were young, I know, but I was really in love with her. Hours after she’d accepted my proposal, she told me she had a change of heart, that she couldn’t keep her promise to me because she was in love with someone else. It crushed me.”
Just as it crushed me when Jake told me he had feelings for Anna. I’m going to cause Sky that kind of pain again.
I’m going to be sick.
“For years after that, I told everyone the story I told you on the plane: that I was never going to get married,” Sky goes on. “And I think I really believed that. But eventually I realized I was just afraid of getting my heart broken again. I put myself out there with Lucy a few years ago, but then I ended that because I was afraid of one day getting hurt, which I know I already shared with you.” His head snaps up. “I’ll never make that same mistake again, Harper. I’d never make it with you.”
I just about prevent myself from flinching at his words.
“Sky, I—”
I what?
I . . . want to break things off with you? How can I possibly get those words out now? After he just told me his story with Julie?
Sky pulls my chair toward him as our lattes arrive, then pulls me onto his lap. “Look, I didn’t mean to kill the mood.”
His arms encircle me loosely, and goose bumps break out along my skin.
“You didn’t kill the mood,” I say, trying to refocus.
“Well, just in case . . .” He suddenly squeezes my sides, tickling me. I’m not expecting it and I burst out into giggles.
“Sky!” I protest, reaching out to push his hands back, but he easily captures both my hands in one of his. Then he looks at my lips with that look of his, and my breath quickens.
What am I doing?
What the hell am I doing?
I don’t know.
Suddenly I want to cry, because it hits me that my decision, although difficult, seemed certain when I had distance from Sky. A whole other Harper 2.0 appears around Sky, and I fall into her—and into this—so easily, so quickly, so naturally. Sky is so fun. Life is an entire ride with him.
My experience with Sky is what opened my heart back up. We were both willing to be brave again because our connection seemed worth that risk. I’ve been trying to resist the power of that connection, but that’s lying to myself.
Sky and I share something in another realm than what I share with Jesse. While Jesse supports me, understands me, and makes me feel seen, Sky thrills me, lightens me, and makes me feel alive. They draw out different sides of me.
Maybe if I knew myself, the choice about who to be with would be easier because I’d know what kind of love I couldn’t live without.
It’s so clear to me in this moment what I need to do.
“I should go,” Sky says, filling me with relief. I need be alone. “I told you I wouldn’t see you again until Christmas Eve, and no matter how hard it is to keep that promise with you in front of me, I will keep it.”
He lifts me up off his lap and gets to his feet in one swift motion.
He touches one hand to my face, tilting up my jaw so I meet his eyes.
Please don’t try to kiss me.
That would be such a betrayal to Jesse. And to my conflicted heart.
Sky slowly brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, eliciting a chill down my spine, before dropping his hand.
“I’m not going to kiss you, Harper, because each time I do, it’s harder to walk away.” He grabs my hand, raises it to his lips, and places a kiss on my knuckles with all the charm he’s always possessed. “But I’ll be thinking of you.”
At his words, my heart goes haywire. Then he releases my hand and turns toward the exit.
Just before he walks out of the shop, he stops in the doorway and looks back. He winks at me, and I can see all the promise, all the adventure in that one little wink.
And then he walks out into the snow.
thirty-two
THERE’S A KNOCK on my cabin door, and I’m not ready for it, even though Jesse has given me plenty of time since I returned from Milk & Maple. He’s been so considerate, likely assuming I’ve been in here decompressing from writing the difficult email I told him I was heading into town to send Sky. It’s going to destroy him when I share what really happened.
It’s going to destroy me too.
Oh God, did I make the biggest mistake here?
“How did it go?” he asks, taking a seat on my bed beside me and wrapping an arm around my waist for support.
His innocent touch nearly breaks my resolve.
“Not well?” he guesses.
I shake my head, even though I know I need to do more than that. I need to speak up and explain. But how do I explain this to Jesse? Despite mulling for hours over how to do so, all the words leave me.
“Harper,” Jesse says softly, “talk to me.”
“I . . .” Out with it. “I ran into Sky,” I confess.
Jesse’s arm tightens around me. “He’s in town?”
“I had no idea,” I say. “He didn’t tell me because he was trying to keep his promise to me and give me the space I asked for until Christmas Eve.”
“Did you tell him in person, then? That you want to end the pact?” When I hesitate, I hear him suck in a sharp breath, as if he knows the answer, and then he pulls his arm back, a choked sound escaping the back of his throat as he gets to his feet. He begins pacing.
“I had every intention of telling him,” I rush to explain, but even to my own ears the excuse sounds hollow. “I went in decided. My feelings are so strong for you, Jesse. But then . . . I ended up finding out some details about his past that made it too difficult to tell him what I planned on saying. It made me realize exactly how much I was going to hurt him, and I have to be sure before I cause that kind of pain.”
He stops pacing and looks at me. “Sure? Sure of how to say it or sure of your feelings?”
I close my eyes because I can’t stand to see Jesse’s reaction to what I am about to say next.
“Both,” I admit, that one word cutting like a knife through the air.
I know this contradicts my certainty last night. I know he probably doesn’t understand. I don’t yet fully understand why I made the choice I did. That’s the problem.
“I thought you were sure of your feelings.”
I swallow, then blink, pushing through it. I’m so frustrated with myself, I want to scream, but I owe it to Jesse to at least try to put my feelings into words.
“I thought I was too, but seeing Sky confused me.” I take a deep breath and spit out the rest of my defense. “I wish it was just the regret of not keeping my promise to him, but it’s more than that. What I have with Sky compared to what I have with you, Jesse, it’s not similar. It’s not even close. I feel like two entirely different people with each of you. But . . . but both connections are powerful.”
I hate that I need to say this. I hate that it’s true.
“When Sky was in front of me, I could see who I’d be with him, how’d we be together. And here, I can see who I’d be with you, how’d we be together. And it hit me then that I don’t know who I am or who I want to be. And if I don’t know that, how do I know what future I want? How can I be sure?” My words have been coming faster and faster, as if I think that by filling the silence, everything will be okay. I force myself to slow down. “Seeing Sky again got me so in my head, Jesse. I thought . . . I realized I need to take this time until Christmas Eve to really double down on figuring out who I am. It’s what I came here to do. It’s also the only way I’ll know exactly what my heart is telling me.”
When I finish, the silence is thick.
“Harper.”
The amount of hurt packed into my name nearly rips my heart right open.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
“It’s so unfair to you, me changing my mind again,” I say, fighting back tears. “I’m being unfair to you.”
Jesse groans, the sound coming from deep in his chest, and he goes back to pacing. “That’s—yeah—but it’s not that,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “I get that you’re conflicted. I’m not mad at you for that. I never have been. I know you met him first and made a promise. I know that this, between you and me, wasn’t part of the plan. But it happened, Harper. And I can’t turn this off. I can’t turn this thing between us off.”
He stops pacing then and stares at me with so much heat in his eyes that I stop breathing. Stop thinking. Stop wanting anything but Jesse.
I’m on my feet in an impulse, stretching my hand out for his. He resists my touch at first, but when I try again, he gives in and pulls me toward him, drawing me close and pressing his forehead against mine. The outside world fades away and my heart drums faster and faster. We stay like this, with his arms wrapped around me and our foreheads pressed together, for a solid few breaths until he reaches for my hand and tugs me down on the bed so we’re sitting as we were before.
Only closer.
“I don’t know how to control this anymore.” His words come out in a warm sigh on my skin, and when he caresses my cheek, I close my eyes and fight back the whimper that wants to escape from the back of my throat.
I was expecting this conversation to hurt. I was expecting it to be hard. I don’t know why I didn’t anticipate that it might end up with me back here, feeling like this for Jesse, wanting him to do all the things I made him put off doing to me last night.
His free hand finds my other cheek, so he’s cupping my face now. A wave of heat ignites under my skin.
When I blink open my eyes, they lock with his.
“Since last night, all I’ve been thinking about is this moment, Harper,” he says, his thumbs rubbing a slow path on my cheek. “All I could picture when I fell asleep was what we’d do right now, right here, you and me.”
I grip the sheets with my fingers, wanting to tell him to do it, wanting to tell him how much I want it.
“Jesse,” I breathe.
His name brings him closer. “I don’t care if you haven’t told him yet. If you’re planning to, that’s enough. I won’t stop this time. I’ll drive everything else out of your mind, I promise. You just say the word.”
His promise vibrates everywhere inside me.
Everywhere.
I want to say yes. God, do I want to.
The struggle inside my chest right now is unbearable. I can feel the battle of the dueling sides. Pick Jesse, are you out of your mind?! Give in to this. Hang on, remember how you felt around Sky, though. And remember that promise you made. Don’t you dare make a mistake.
“Jesse—” I repeat, and he comes even closer so that his lips are almost touching mine. I didn’t think my heart could pound any faster, but it just proved me wrong. It’s going so fast it almost hurts.
Or, wait—maybe the pain is coming from knowing that this is going to hurt.
This phrase I know I have to say.
I do have to say it.
But I don’t want to.
Harper, you must!
It’s not fair to Jesse to come to my conclusion in the heat of the moment. And it’s not fair to Sky either.
“I can’t Jesse. I need to think.”
There.
It’s out and . . . I don’t feel relief. Not an ounce.
All I feel is Jesse as he releases a deep exhalation of disappointment onto my skin. And then I feel my own disappointment and an ever-mounting frustration with myself. For not being more decided. For putting this man I care for so deeply through this ringer.
I close my eyes, fighting back a fresh wave of tears, when I feel Jesse’s hands drop from my face and the warmth disappear. By the time I open my eyes, he’s on his feet again, standing above me.
“I know I said I’d wait, but given how I feel, given how high my hopes got yesterday, I . . .”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my pain and regret filling his pause. “Please know how sorry I am, Jesse.”
I want to get up and reach out for his hands again, but I don’t because I’m not sure I could let go. He puts his hands in his pockets before I can second-guess myself. “I need some distance today, okay? With everything you just said, it’s too hard for me to be around you right now. I hope you can understand that.”
“I do,” I say. “Of course I do.”
Jesse nods and walks to the door. But then his earlier words come back to me.
“I said I’d wait, but—”
“Jesse!” I half-shout, shooting up to my feet in a blind panic as he reaches the door. He stops but doesn’t turn around. “Will you give me the time? Will you still wait?”
I know I have no right to ask that of him. None whatsoever. I just hurt him, and I’m still hurting him. I hate myself for asking. I want to take it back.
I’ve made such a mess.
I turn away from the door, unable to bear the answer I think is coming, unable to face it if he gives me no answer at all.
I hear movement right behind me, but I don’t turn around. I can’t look at him.
He’s so close I can feel his body heat radiating toward my back. I hear his inhale and brace myself for whatever he’s about to say, but instead he closes the distance between us until there isn’t any. Not an inch.
My breath catches and I lean into him almost without thought. His hands firmly grip my hips, burning imprints on my skin. He inhales, deep and slow, and I feel the rise of his chest behind mine, and the fall as he blows out a long breath into my hair.
Everything in me stills, settles.
Then he slowly leans down to place a scorching kiss on my neck.
“I’ll wait,” he says, sliding his lips along my skin to my ear, “because I’m sure.”
Then he’s gone, and my cabin door swings shut.
And I don’t move from that spot for a long time.
thirty-three
EVEN THOUGH I know I’ve hurt Jesse, he tries not to show it the next day. Or the day after. Or the day after that. Often while we’re working side by side in the barn or the kitchen, I’ll see a flicker of sadness on his face, and I can tell how much effort it takes for him to disguise it.
But he does disguise it. Every single time.
He’s not doing this out of pride. That would require Jesse to have an ego. He’s doing it for my sake because he doesn’t want anything to take away from the last few weeks of this journey I’m on. He knows how important it is to me to figure this—myself and my heart—out.
One day, no matter what happens, I will thank Jesse for handling this situation with such maturity and for giving me the gift of time. For now, I just accept this gift, since time is what I need right now.
The day after I met Sky in the coffee shop and confessed my conflicted emotions to Jesse, I went back into town and emailed Sky. He had gone back to Atlanta the night before. I found myself grateful for the space and nature of a letter—the format let me choose my words more carefully than I ever could in person. And I had needed to choose them well because Sky was in the dark about so much.
In the email, I was as honest with him as I had been with Jesse. I told him about Jesse and how conflicted I felt and apologized for not having more certainty. I apologized for any hurt the letter would cause. And I also warned him that this would be the very last letter I’d write to him before Christmas Eve because I needed to spend the rest of my days here remembering why I came to Vermont in the first place. I was honest that doing so was not only important to me, but the only way I could figure out how I felt.
Then, I wrote to him about Christmas Eve. I explained I’d understand if he didn’t want to show up for the big party at the inn anymore, given that it wasn’t certain we’d be picking up where we left off as planned. I’d understand if he didn’t want to wait for me to decide—he’d already been waiting for so long. And I assured him that no matter what he decided or what happened, he’d always hold a special place in my heart.
The moment I pressed send, I knew it was the right thing to do.
Even if my chest still tightens at the memory of it a week later. Even if I hold my breath as I open my email today and expel it in a rush when I find a response from him.
Sky surprises me by thanking me for my honesty. He admits that what I told him hurt and that finding out I have feelings for Jesse triggered some old insecurities from his experience with Julie. But he also says he appreciates that I recognize this rather than ignoring or being dishonest about it. He likes knowing that he and I will be starting out on an honest foot if we ever get the chance to give our romantic relationship a real shot. And then he tells me he still wants the chance of a real shot. He will still be waiting for me on Christmas Eve.
I journal about his response as soon as I get back to the inn. I started journaling the very first night after Jesse left my cabin. I had to—I didn’t know how else to process what I was feeling. I wrote down everything I’d felt about Sky and Jesse since I arrived in Vermont. Then I decided to make journaling a daily practice for the remaining time I had here.
Every day, I write down everything I’m feeling about not only Sky and Jesse but also myself—who I feel I am and who I feel I want to become. And I make myself look inside my heart repeatedly. Because that’s what I came here to do. That’s what I must do now.
I know I’m getting clearer and clearer on my feelings. As challenging as it is to listen to what my heart has to say, by being quiet and not requesting advice or feedback from anyone else, answers slowly start to surface—and not just about my choice between these two men, but about what I want to do after December ends.
