Page 115 of On the Ropes
“I’m in love with Dean. I can’t believe I told you that having a crush on someone was the best feeling in the world when this sensation makes me feel like I could fly to the moon. I never, not once, had legitimate control over it.”
She nodded, laughing softly. “That’s true love right there.”
“I want to tell him. Need to tell him.” I pulled back from her to wipe my wet cheeks. “Nothing else matters—where he’s living or where I’m living or if our jobs take us all over or root us back home. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way”—a hole cracked open in my chest at the thought—“he deserves to know. Dean Knox-Morelli deserves to know how deeply he is loved. I want to find a way to apologize for turning away when I should have leapt into his arms. To apologize and make things right.”
Alexis arched one blond eyebrow. “Take it from someone who knows the privilege of being married to their soul mate. Dean looks at you the way Eric has always looked at me. And I think you already know that.”
I broke out in a full body blush as I replayed all the ways in which Dean had looked at me since the night I fell into his lap: shy and sweet, cute and charming, ravenous, hungry, passionate, devoted. Our time together really had been as intoxicating as it was normal. Perhaps that was the shape of true love formed by friendship. A heightened, electric desire bursting forth from a foundation of kindness and trust.
How beautiful it would be to live a life where giving in to pleasure also meant giving in to love.
“There have been, um…many moments between us where, yes, you would be correct,” I said nervously.
She smirked. “When can I take you out for shots and give you a bunch of advice on committed relationships?”
I laughed, dropping my head into my hands. “I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”
“Hopelessly in love, Tab. There’s a difference.”
Juliet stopped drawing and suddenly wrapped her arms around my side. I pulled her into a hug, kissed her hair, rocked her gently back and forth. Every type of undefinable love forced its way past any residual resistance to it. And not just romantic love, all of it: my niece, hugging me when she sensed I was sad. My sister, making me laugh as I cried. Dad, Kathleen, and Eric cooking us dinner in the kitchen with music in the background.
It was impossible to fully describe the depth of my family’s loud and bright love. But one thing was clear: it had never been conditional. That had been my mother’s style, not theirs. I had to trust that this unconditional love wouldn’t waver when I was finally honest with them. I’d avoided fully accepting it—had even, literally, run from it—because with this kind of love there could be no shameful secrets. No hiding of what had happened between me and Mom and the guilt I carried.
I was going to have to tell them everything. Which meant I’d get to stay, a realization that sent a jolt of pure joy through me.
Alexis touched the top of my hand. “Are you okay? You seem stunned.”
The world was tilting around me, a myriad of missing pieces sliding into place. “I’m wonderful,” I said softly. “I was simply trying to figure out how to respectfully break a contract without burning every professional bridge I had in the great city of Austin, Texas.”
Her eyes went wide. “Tabitha. Don’t joke.”
“I’m not, I swear.”
Eric pushed the storm door open and hung from the side. “Raise your hand if you’re ready for the best homemade pizza you’ve ever had in your life.”
Alexis and I raised our hands, eyes still locked together with matching smiles we’d inherited from our Dad. “We’ll be right in,” my sister said.
“I’m ready,” Juliet squealed, leaving my side and running up the steps.
“Way to show enthusiasm sweetheart,” Eric called after her. Then he turned back to us. “And I don’t know what’s happening right now, but it sure looks like good news.”
I squeezed Alexis’s hand three times. It wasn’t necessarily good news or bad news but the beginning of a story I’d been seeking all along.
