Page 184 of Never Not Friends

For a second, I just stand there, holding it.

“What’s that?”

“Twelve years’ worth of tiny pieces of Vinny Brooks.”

Because tiny pieces were all I could have.

A recipe.

A note.

A photo strip.

So many little scraps of evidence that show, no matter how hard I tried to move on, Vinny never stopped mattering to me.

I kept it all.

His smile widens. “You have a box of keepsakes for me?”

“I just think it’s cool. Not only are we each other’s future. We’re also each other’s pasts.”

“Can I see it?”

“I won’t show you if this is going to be, like, a crazy stalker turn-off for you.”

“No, it’s the nicest thing ever.” He reaches for the box. “I have never wanted to see anything more in my entire life.”

I sit cross-legged on the rug in front of him and lift the lid.

His eyebrows lift. “No way.” He pulls out the sugar buns recipe. “You still have this?”

“Stole it, to be exact.”

He stares at it for one long second before grabbing the next item: the note that says, You’re pretty.

He goes through each piece one by one, reverently looking at them.

He’s so quiet my heart panics, and I start to feel foolish, until he looks up at me with tears in his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“In a world full of temporary, you were the one permanent thing.” His eyes glisten with moisture. “Even when we weren’t together. Even when I thought we’d moved on, you were still there.”

“So were you.”

For twelve years, I thought loving Vinny meant waiting.

Waiting for the right time.

Waiting for him to choose me.

But that’s not what finally brought us here.

I stopped waiting and told him how I felt.

For once, I chose us.