Page 65 of When You Stayed
My sister laughed. “Oh my God, are you okay?You’re out of it.”
My lips still felt numb, my skin pebbled from where he touched me. The way he whispered something against my ear.
“Royce, I swear if you let this asshole break your heart again, I’m going to kill him. No joking this time. I have some ideas on where I could bury the body.”
Taryn parked, and I slid out of the Jeep, tucking the box to my chest.
“Are you going to be okay?” Taryn came around and held my elbow.
I nodded. “I just need to shower, after cleaning up at the cottage.”
We turned and went inside the house. Mom was curled under Dad’s arm while they watched some TV show, in the living room. Seeing them still enjoying one another all these years later made my heart ping around in my chest. All I had ever wanted was the kind of love that they shared. Twenty-five years together and they still stared at one another as if no one else existed. Dad still called her “Daisy,” which Mom shared with us a long time ago that it was the most precious thing he could ever call her. It made me wonder what someone might call me if they loved me with that sort of abandon.
My wild rose.
“Hey, girls!” Dad called, snapping my mind away from what Ford had said. Mom lifted her hand in a wave.
Taryn and I both mumbled-out hellos while we made our way upstairs. Once I was in my bedroom, I set the shoebox down on my desk. Despite wanting to read the card, I wasn’t lying about feeling gross after the cottage. I hadn’t had a chance to go through my regular routine after falling asleep in Ford’s lap the night prior. I needed to feel like myself before I read a letter that was addressed to fifteen-year-old me.
Once I was under the hot spray, I tried to replay the things Ford said. I tried to think past his words and go deeper to the way his voice shook and pitched in various ways. There were pain points that surfaced through those cracks inside the cadence of his confessions. It was as if he’d pulled open a drawer and I was dropped inside, forced to sort through the jumbled mess until it made sense.
I knew I needed to process all of this logically. That Ford and I hada physical attraction that was calling all the shots regarding that kiss…but the irrational part of me wanted to call this something more meaningful. Finally, back in my room, I settled into my bed with the box in between my legs.
The top lifted easily, and I carefully plucked the Christmas card out. Gold outlined a green tree on the front, and when I opened it, the printed text wished me a Merry Christmas. The uneven, black scrawl was where my gaze dropped and began to read.
Dear Royce,
I know you probably don’t want to read this, and I don’t blame you.
I haven’t been nice to you, but in my defense…you’ve been just as cruel to me. Which is a stupid excuse, I know that. But I’m tired of fighting with you, Royce. I’m tired of holding a grudge against you for not choosing me.
I know you want Connor.
I know you probably won’t ever want me, and I can live with that. But there’s a few things I need you to know first before you make your choice.
First, I’ve loved you my entire life. I know you might not believe that, but you were too young to remember when Connor used to walk around, telling everyone you were going to marry him one day. Your mom and his thought it was so cute, and by that point, I knew it would be too late to tell my side, that I wanted you too.
I used to watch you when you were young, and I’d tried not to care about you. You became this test to me, that I had to pass. I wanted to prove that I didn’t care that Connor wanted you for himself, or that you seemed to like him better than me. When we were ten, I finally caved and kissed you. Sometimes I wonder if you ever think about that day, and if you ever want to try again, but this time on the lips. I wonder what your lips taste like all the time, and I know that makes me sound like a freak, but I’m just being honest.
You need to know that if you were to ever forgive me, and you thought you could stand me for two seconds, then I wouldn’t make you regret it. I wouldn’t waste the chance to love you.
That’s all I’m asking for, Royce. One chance to show you that I could make you smile too. We’re in high school now, and I hate that you keep looking at me like you hate me. I’d give anything for you to look at me with a smile, or with that expression you give him.
Please, just give me a chance.
Love, Ford
My fingers trembled from holding the piece of cardstock. My face was wet from allowing tears of frustration and regret to stain it. He’d tried to tell me exactly how he felt, and now here we were, adults and being horrible to each other, all because I chose to reject his offered card.
Did Connor know that Ford felt this way? I wanted to go back to Ford’s and ask him to explain it all and tell me everything. I wanted to fight with him. I wanted to kiss him again.
I slid the box off my lap and quickly got up. How come he didn’t try again?
If that was really love, then wouldn’t he have tried again when we were older? Connor and I were broken up for six years, and Ford hadn’t tried to bring it up. He hadn’t attempted to do anything…there were no signs or anything at all that he still had those feelings. Which made a seed of doubt take root.
“Don’t worry, Rose. It’s long passed.”
His comment from when we were in that room resurfaced, making me rethink this entire thing. What if this was just young, teenage love, but he’d outgrown it?
