MichaelB22:Are you home? I need to see you. Please, give me one more chance.
Chapter 28
Juliet
“You’re going to pull that whole chunk of hair out if you don’t stop soon.” My mom gives me a knowing look.
“Sorry.” I drop my hands to my lap, but they crave to be right back up in the tangled web that’s now my hair.
Mom flicks off the show. “It’s okay. You can go.”
“Hey! Why’d you turn off the show?” Dad yells, but then he takes a deep breath and fixes us with an apologetic look.
“Go? Where would I go?” I ask innocently.
“Oh, are we talking about that boy you love?” Dad asks.
“Jared, why would you say—?” Mom starts but cuts herself off before she can get mad at him. They aren’t perfect, but it’s been nice to see them trying. It’s been the best holiday I can remember in years. But it doesn’t prevent my mind from straying to Michael every ten seconds.
Dad holds a hand in the air. “I’m assuming.”
I grab a throw pillow and tuck it into my stomach. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s Christmas.” I can’t leave them, especially since they came together just for me.
Mom looks at Dad and squeezes my arm. “And we’ve had a great day. But I think you should go find that boy.”
My hand jumps to my hair. “What if I can’t do it? What if I can’t give him the love he wants?”
Mom pats my hand. “Just give him what you’ve got.”
Just what I’ve got. But will that be enough? I guess I’ll never know unless I try. I release my death grip on my mom’s fancy throw pillow. “Okay.”
Okay. I’m going to do it. I’m going to go find him. Surely he will be at home surrounded by family. I can say my piece and let the cards fall where they may. But if he turns me down, I’ll be crushed. I may be ready to fall in love, but I’m not prepared to be rejected. I’d rather not have an audience for that.
I open my phone and find a message waiting from the dating app. Why haven’t I deleted that thing? It’s probablysome random lonely guy on Christmas. Scratch that. A random lonely serial killer…
Not today, Satan.
I delete the app and open my messages.
Juliet:Can you meet me at our bridge? Like, now?
He’s put his heart on the line enough for me, and it’s time to be the vulnerable one and reach for him.
I pull on a pair of jeans and a comfy sweater and head out.
During the drive to the bridge, I wait for my phone to ding with his response. But there’s nothing. I can’t expect him to come, and I won’t blame him for not wanting to. He doesn’t owe me anything, but I’ve got a list I’d like to start making up for.
I don’t see his truck when I park, and I take my time walking the trail. The air is cool today, which means I won’t last long. Anything less than fifty degrees Fahrenheit, and I go into hibernation mode. But I’ll wait for him.
Until I’m at the cusp of hypothermia.
My cute, but uninsulated boots thump against the wooden planks of the bridge as I pace the length of it.
What if he doesn’t show up? Should I call Lennox and have her trick him into coming here?
I stop and look out at the river, which is barely more than a trickle right now. On this bridge, I promised him five dates. Now I want to promise him more.
If he shows up.
