Discovering Delilah (Harborside Nights, Book 2)(85)

We stop walking in front of my parents’ graves, and she continues her confession.

“If I’m being completely honest, I was probably also keeping them to remind myself that I didn’t want to be anyone’s dirty little secret again.”

“Oh.” No, no, no. Please don’t tell me you don’t want us anymore. I drop my eyes, and she steps in closer, lifts my chin.

“Delilah, I’m not going anywhere. I may have been keeping the texts as reminders, but all they did was piss me off. I admit that I don’t like holding back my feelings for you in public, because I feel more for you than anything I’ve ever felt for anyone in my entire life. You can rest assured that I will never leave you because of that. You’ve become my best friend, the person I want to share my life and my bed with. I want to be the one you call when you’re happy or sad, the person you trust to love you no matter what. I want to wake up and see your sleepy face, and I want to sit on the dunes with you while you teach me to sketch and I mess up because I’m too busy staring at you. No pressure. No ultimatums. When you’re ready to own our relationship, I’ll be right here by your side, waiting for you.”

“Ash…” I blink several times to keep from crying. I’ve cried enough for a lifetime. “I’m ready.” I face my parents’ graves. “Mom, Dad, this is Ashley Carver, my girlfriend.”

Ashley squeezes my hand.

“I love her. I love the person she is and the person she wants to be. I love the way she makes me feel, and when I’m with her, I’m proud of who I am.”

I wipe a tear from Ashley’s cheek with my thumb, then place my hands on her cheeks and gaze into her eyes. I want her to feel my love for her, to know it’s real and true and that I’m done pretending I’m not her girlfriend.

“I love you, Ashley, and I hope this is loud enough for you to hear me.”

I take the microphone from my back pocket, turn it on. She and I both smile as I speak into it.

“I love you, Ashley.” It doesn’t amplify my voice. Ashley’s eyes are wide, and her jaw is hanging open. Her fingers slip into my front pocket and hold on tight. I turn the microphone over in my hands.

“Um, Dee?”

“Wait. Let me try again.” I turn it off, then on again. “I love you, Ashley!” Even when I yell, it doesn’t amplify my voice.

She leans in close and whispers, “I think you need a speaker.”

We both burst into laughter.

“I heard you loud and clear, you big dork!”

“Ha! You have a dorky girlfriend. What does that say about you?”

“That I’m the luckiest girl around.”

When her lips touch mine, I want to argue that she’s wrong, that I’m the luckiest girl around. But I don’t break our connection—and I have a feeling nothing ever will.





Epilogue


~Delilah~

I NEVER THOUGHT that anything good could come from losing someone I loved, and don’t get me wrong, I’d do anything to have my parents back in my life, even with all the guilt they left me with. But that’s not going to happen. I’ll never be able to take back my thoughts of wishing my parents didn’t exist, and I can never relive the years I kept my desires a secret. I can’t go backward. None of us can. But sitting on the beach watching a roaring bonfire with Ashley cuddled up beside me, surrounded by our best friends, I know I have them to thank for how far I’ve come.

I don’t wish I could have a do-over.

I just want to do things right as we move forward.

Cassidy’s singing a Matchbox Twenty song while Brandon plays the guitar, and Wyatt’s sitting beside her, looking at her like he loves her more than life itself. And I know he does.

“So, you’re really moving out?” Tristan sips a beer and hands the bottle to Charley. They’re sharing a blanket across from us.

“Yup. And you get to help me move.” After I got back from Connecticut, I stopped by Ashley’s apartment complex and turned in my rental application. They called this morning with the good news. I am now the proud renter of a one-bedroom apartment.

I feel Wyatt’s glare. He’s still not sold on the idea of me living alone, but he’s trying to give me the space I need.

“Wyatt, she’ll be okay.” Brooke reaches over and pats his leg. “How did you ever make it when she lived in the girls’ dorm the first year of college?”

Wyatt rolls his eyes. “I think I was worse than my parents. I went by every day to make sure she was okay.”

“When Jesse and I went away to school, I think my mom celebrated.” Brent laughs.