Delaney James seems to have it all-a successful husband, a stylish Manhattan townhouse, and a thriving career in fashion journalism-until it all falls apart. Her husband leaves her, shattering the perfect life she once knew. Heartbroken and desperat...
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I grab the doorknob in my rush to leave, but the moment those words come out of his mouth, I freeze, all reason leaving my body. I turn toward him, stunned.
"What?" I ask.
"Yeah. Not exactly the way I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you leaving here – this possibly being the last time we talk for a while – without knowing how I feel. I actually had a whole speech prepared, but there it is."
"You...you're in with love me?"
"Of course, I am. How could you not know that?"
"I mean – I," I stutter. My heart thumps in my chest. "I guess I knew, deep down, and I hoped you did. It just...it's been so long. After everything that's happened the past few months, I didn't want to get my hopes up. A part of me convinced myself you could never feel that way about me again."
The words I'm saying make sense in my head, but as I hear them come out of my mouth, I realize my mind is all over the place. I'm afraid I'm messing this up.
He chuckles to himself. "I tried, believe me, but every time I did it came back to you. It always comes back to you."
Any other time I'd be thrilled to hear the man I love tell me he loves me back, but after what happened with Will, and what happened here tonight, I feel rattled instead. If I've learned anything, it's that nothing is certain. Not one decision I make, or will make, is set in stone. The only thing I know to be true is that I love Greyson, and I hope he's in love with me the same way I'm in love with him – infinitely. Falling back in love with him was easy because I've never fallen out of it – I simply buried my feelings and learned to live with them – and admitting that to myself was the next easiest thing, but saying the words out loud is the hard part, because then I run the risk of getting hurt again.
For me, loving Greyson is the simplest thing in the world. It's like blinking or breathing. I don't have to think about it - I just do it. Being with him is like entering your house after being away and realizing your home. He's warm, and comfortable, and safe. But love is powerful. It will either piece you back together, or completely tear you apart. The broken pieces of my heart have already been glued back in place, but if it's shattered again, I don't think it can be repaired a second time.
"Why?" I ask.
"What?" Deep lines crease his forehead as he furrows his brow in confusion. "What do you mean why?"
"I was with a man for seven years who was supposed to be my partner, but turned out he wasn't, because he only loved the idea of me. He didn't love me. I need to know why you're in love with me. The reasons."
His shoulders slump forward, and his mouth turns down in a semi-pout. He looks like a child whose mother told him he can't keep the dog he found at the park.
"Mainly because I don't have a choice – I never have – but also because..." he trails off. He shoves his fingers through his messy hair. "Because on Saturday mornings you love to watch cartoons, but you change the channel to the news when someone comes into the room. I love you because you make self-deprecating jokes about yourself when you're nervous, and because you insist on eating those pickled jalapeños you love right out of the jar, even though they burn the shit out of your tongue, and then you spend the next half-hour eating ice cubes to ease the sting. I love you because you recite the dialogue to The Breakfast Club without even realizing you're doing it, and because you sing along to every song on the radio – even when you don't know the words.
