Page 87 of All That Glitters

July 12th

I finished Julius Caesar. I still don’t get why you like Shakespeare so much, but this one was better than Romeo and Juliet. I don’t think he’s great at romance. I wish I could call you and talk to you about it. I just know you’ve got an hours-long rant ready about how brilliant it is. You’d say something that makes me feel idiotic for not seeing it the way you do, then laugh and say literature has multiple interpretations.

August 24th

It’s the first day of school. I knew we’d have a lot of classes together, but nothing could have prepared me for how much it hurts seeing you and not being able to talk to you. I had hundreds of thoughts today and looked at you too many times. You weren’t ever looking my way, but I swear I could feel you staring when I wasn’t looking.

Are you hurting too? Do you ever go to text me and then remember what happened? I miss you, and I hate that I don’t know how to fix things. I’m going to try, though.

September 13th

Your first article for the paper was incredible. I knew it would be. No one writes the way you do. The way you see the world and put it into words renders me speechless. I tried to congratulate you, but I don’t think you’re quite ready for me to talk to you yet. That’s understandable. Maybe one day soon.

October 18th

I saw you at the homecoming party last night. My roommate, Nash, made me come out. I think you’d like him. He’s obnoxious, but in a good way. You spent most of the night writing in your little notebook. What were you writing down? Did I make it in there?

When that jerk came over messing with your friend I … I almost came unglued. If he had been talking to you I would have. And I don’t think I would have been nice enough to let him walk away like Kingsley did.

November 24th

It’s Thanksgiving, and I’m worried about you. Did you go to your parents’ house? I thought about texting you, but I figured you wouldn’t respond. My mom has mentioned you a dozen times. She made your favorite pecan pie. It doesn’t feel the same to eat it without you.

December 31st

Remember that New Years’ Eve when we were eight and tried to stay up until midnight? We snuck into the kitchen and got some of my dad’s coffee and a bunch of sugary snacks. I don’t think we even made it to ten. It’s almost midnight now, but it’s easier to stay awake these days. I don’t sleep well. Too much on my mind.

January 11th

I went to the National Championship watch party in your building. Hearing you yell at the TV reminded me of all the games we’ve watched together. I watched a few with my dad over the break and wondered what you would have thought of the games. No doubt you and my dad would have agreed that you’d be a better coach than half of the ones on TV.

Missing you hasn’t gotten any easier. It’s like this constant weight in my lungs. Every breath is a reminder of your absence.

February 14th

I’ve known I was in love with you long before we kissed months ago, but if I hadn’t, seeing you smile and hearing you laugh tonight would have confirmed it for me. I wish you wouldn’t have run away, but I understand why you did. I hope that I can figure out a way to earn your trust. I don’t know how much longer I can take this pain.

Chapter forty-one

Happy Tears

Marigold Belmore

Tears blur my vision as I flip through the journal. There’s too much to read at this moment, though I’m tempted to comb through every line.

All of this for me?

“My goal was to get you to stop crying,” Jameson says with a soft chuckle.

“You can’t give a woman a journal dedicated to missing her and expect her not to cry,” I say through my tears.

The only time I questioned if Jameson loved me was the day I found out about the internship. And even then, deep down, I couldn’t fully doubt it. I was just so blinded by the pain of it all that I couldn’t imagine how he could love me and do something like that.

But if I ever doubted … it was like he said, this book would prove those doubts false. The pages I read simultaneously broke my heart and put it back together again. It was like reading my thoughts from the past few months. He missed me as much as I missed him. The holes in our hearts were mirror images of one another. Our pain, one and the same.

I wipe my tears away and draw in a shaky breath as I reread the entry from Valentine’s Day where he talked about loving me. He was so certain. I turn my head toward him and meet his gaze. The adoration sparkling in his eyes makes my heart skip.

It’s at this moment that I realize the difference between the love of our friendship and the love I have for him now. There’s this tangible quickening within me. Beyond attraction, and not so shallow as lust. It’s like the swell of a wave or a breeze across a field of flowers. Unmistakeable, yet subtle enough that if I wouldn’t have looked for it, I might not have recognized it was there. Because I have been slowly falling for Jameson Sinclair since we were kids. Each day poured love into my cup, and it wasn’t until now that I realized that cup has been overflowing for years.