Page 97 of Thicker Than Water
The truth of that is lacerating. When Jason asked me at the hospital if I’d be able to forgive him, there was part of me that wanted to grant him a clean slate, tell him there’s nothing he could do to change how I see him. But I knew that wasn’t true. Moment by moment, he was vanishing before me—or not him, exactly, but the man I thought he was. Soon, he’ll be so faint that I’ll see right through him, until the only version left is the one he really is.
“But I know how much you love him,” Wyatt says. “He was something to you that no one else could ever be. And I’m sure this feels like you’ve lost him. But no matter what he did, he’s the same man who made you blueberry pancakes while the two of you were drowning in grief.”
Tears seep to the front of my eyes. They spill onto my cheeks. Because Wyatt’s right: I do feel like I lost Jason, but I love him, too. It would be impossible to stop. As much as I’ve tried to fight it in the past, love, for me, has always been a simple, unfixable thing. If I love someone—in that bone-deep, drop-everything way—it’s forever.
I’m surprised Wyatt knows this about me, surprised he even remembers the story about the pancakes, or understands my pain so specifically.
I shouldn’t be, though. Like Julia, Wyatt has always seen me so clearly, and over the years, he’s memorized me with the greatest of care.
“I’m just—” Wyatt looks down, rubbing the back of his neck, as if worried he’s overstepped. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. I hate to see you in pain.”
I flush with warmth that has nothing to do with anger. I keep my gaze secured to Wyatt, until he lifts his own to meet it.
“Because you love me,” I say, stepping closer to him.
His brows inch together as he studies my face. “Because I love you.”
I knuckle a tear from my cheek. “And you fucked up at that bachelor party, but you would never do that again.”
Because he is the same man who cherished our anniversary chopsticks, even after I told him, time and time again, that we were over. He is the same man who gave up drinking, even without my asking or knowing.
“No,” Wyatt says, voice low with sincerity, heavy with regret. “I never would.”
I kiss him. My lips are wet from crying, but he responds so instantly, cupping my face in his palms, it’s clear he doesn’t mind. We soften into the moment, our bodies melting together.
“Wait,” Wyatt says, pulling back. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t fuck up in other ways. I never want to hurt you, it’s the last thing I want to do. But I can’t promise I won’t.”
I lean toward him, closing the space he’s made. The space I’ve made, too. The barrier I’ve tried to wedge between my heart and his.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I can’t promise I won’t fuck up either. And I’m sorry for hurting you all these months. For being selfish and careless.”
I skim my lips along his, then whisper against his mouth, words I’ve fought against for so long, words I thought would make me weak: “I love you, Wyatt.”
He answers me with a kiss.
As ever when something momentous happens, Julia is the first person I tell.
Entering her house that night, I hold up a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. “I broughtmotatoes,” I say—but the old reference falls flat, neither of us smiling. Already, it belongs to another time. Another set of people.
“And I’m back together with Wyatt,” I add.
Julia’s grin beams across her face, brightening her eyes, the room, the moment.
“You are?” she asks, voice verging on giddy.
“Yeah, someone kind of smart told me that Wyatt can make a colossal mistake and still be the best thing for me.” I shrug. “I think she was right.”
“Oh, wow. Well.” She looks at her fingernails, playing it cool. “Whoever she is, she sounds amazing.”
I carry the pretzels into the living room, where I slump onto the couch. Julia follows, already reaching into the bag.
“Yeah, she’s a real angel,” I say.
She smiles again, softer this time, and there’s something a little sad about it. Out of habit, I start counting:One… Two…But I don’t get to finish.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” she says. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with me and Jason. I told him I’m willing to work on things. But I truly have no idea how it’s going to end. He kept so much from me, I don’t trust him right now, and honestly, Iwouldn’t blame him if he didn’t trust me either. Because you were right yesterday. Too many times I hid what I was feeling. I created distance without even knowing. And—I don’t know. I really don’t know what will happen.”
I grab her hand. “No one expects you to have all the answers right now. Not to mention he’s beenarrested, so we don’t even know what’s going to happen in general yet.”
