lover boy

Chapter 43

Cecilia Anderson

The rest of the evening felt like a dream I wasn't sure I was ready to wake up from. After Jude's apology and my own confession, it was as if a weight had been lifted off my chest, but at the same time, the air between us was charged with a tension that I couldn't ignore. It was like we'd opened a door to something that had been locked away for a long time, and now that it was open, there was no closing it again.

As I sat there across from him, my hand still in his, I couldn't help but take in every detail. The way his fingers curled slightly around mine, the warmth of his touch, the intensity in his eyes as he looked at me—it was all so much, and yet, it felt right.

The view from the rooftop was breathtaking, but all I could focus on was Jude. The way the city lights reflected in his eyes, the way his voice softened when he spoke to me, the way he seemed so sincere in a way I hadn't seen from him in so long. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

We talked about everything and nothing, slipping back into a rhythm that felt familiar, yet new. It wasn't like the easy, carefree conversations we used to have. There was something deeper now, a connection that was both exciting and terrifying. The kind of connection that made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, this could actually work.

At some point, I noticed how close we were sitting, our knees almost touching under the table. I was hyper-aware of every small movement, every glance, every shift in his expression. The tension wasn't just in our words—it was in the silence, in the way we were drawn to each other, even when we weren't speaking.

I couldn't help but think about how different things were now compared to before. We had both changed, grown up in ways that weren't always easy, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it meant we were ready for this, ready to face whatever came next, together.

As the night went on, the rooftop bar began to quiet down, the other patrons slowly filtering out until it was just us and a few others scattered around. I didn't want the night to end. I didn't want to let go of this moment, of the possibility that maybe, this time, things could be different.

But as the last of our drinks sat empty on the table, reality started to creep back in. I knew we couldn't stay here forever, and part of me was scared of what would happen when we left this place, this bubble we had created for ourselves.

Jude must have sensed it too because he finally broke the silence with a quiet, "We should probably head out."

I nodded, even though I didn't really want to. "Yeah, I guess so."

He stood up first, reaching out to help me up. His hand was steady, and I found comfort in the simple gesture. As we walked back to the car, the city lights twinkling below us, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. I just wasn't sure what it meant yet.

The drive back to my apartment was quieter than before, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was more like we were both lost in our thoughts, trying to process everything that had happened, everything that was still left unsaid.

When we finally pulled up outside my building, Jude turned to me, his expression serious, but there was a softness in his eyes that made my heart skip a beat.

"Cecilia, I—" he started, but I shook my head, cutting him off gently.

"Let's not rush this, okay?" I said, my voice softer than I expected. "I think we've both waited long enough. We can take our time now."

He seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding slowly. "You're right. We've got time."

I smiled, feeling a sense of relief. This was the right decision. We didn't have to figure everything out tonight. We could take it slow, see where things led us, without the pressure of having to know all the answers right away.

As I opened the car door to step out, I paused, turning back to him. "Thank you for tonight. I'm glad we did this."

He smiled, that same soft, sincere smile that made my chest tighten in the best way possible. "Me too, Cecilia. Me too."

I got out of the car and walked to the entrance of my building, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. I didn't look back, but as I stepped inside, I couldn't help but smile to myself, a small, hopeful smile that hinted at the possibility of what could be.

When I finally made it to my apartment, I collapsed onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling as a mix of emotions swirled inside me. There was so much to think about, so much to figure out, but for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel weighed down by it all.

Instead, I felt hopeful. Nervous, yes, but also hopeful. Whatever was going to happen next, I knew that I wanted to see it through. And that, in itself, felt like a victory.

As I drifted off to sleep, I could still feel the warmth of his hand in mine, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at me, and the promise of something new, something better, lingering in the air.