“William, I…I think I’m falling for you.”
I mull over her words, picturing several different scenarios—tripping over something, slipping off a cliff, frantic, terrified. My heartbeat speeds up. But she’s not. “You’re not falling. I’m holding on to you.”
She laughs again. Clearly, I haven’t understood her. But I don’t mind it when she laughs. At least I know that she’s not laughing at me. Or if she is, it’s not in a mocking, derogatory way.
“No, I meant that figuratively. I meant falling as in…falling in love.” I frown. She hesitates, scanning every inch of my face. I’m guessing that she’s trying to gauge my reaction. But that would be hard, since I don’t even know what my reaction is. She clears her throat and continues. “I mean—”
“You think you’re falling in love with me?” I ask. They are wonderful words, but I don’t want to believe them until I’m sure—until she’s sure. She said “I think,” which means she’s uncertain of it.
And besides, it defies the very own logic. “But that’s not possible. You said that wasn’t possible.”
She opens her mouth to answer and then shuts it again. She’s thinking of what to say. Finally, she shakes her head.
“Let me be more clear, then. I love you, Wil. I’m not sure how or why it happened…just that it did.”
I love you, Wil. Those words hit me like a forge hammer between the eyes. I know exactly what they mean, but they slip off me, unable to gain purchase—like a climber on an icy cliff. These words are too dangerous.
A spot in my chest tightens and starts to hurt. “What about Brock?”
She frowns. “I’ll always love him. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love you.”
I swallow a suddenly large lump in my throat. “You do want to be with me?”
She smoothes a hand across my cheek, smiling. “I told you already that I did. I haven’t changed my mind since this afternoon.”
My fingers comb idly through her hair as I study the pattern of shadows on the ceiling of the tent, backlit by the moonlight. If I could draw this feeling—this moment—those patterns would be the background.
“And what does that mean? We’ll date?”
She hesitates, her finger tracing a light pattern over my chest. The touch distracts me, so I stop her by cupping my hand over hers.
“Sure…like we have been. Even though we haven’t been calling it dating.”
“I want you to live with me. So we’ll see each other all the time.”
She’s silent for a long time. “Let’s just…see what happens.”
I turn to look at her. “You don’t want to live with me?”
She nestles deeper into my side. “I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying…one thing at a time, okay? For right now, let’s enjoy this. It’s been a long time coming.”
Yes, it has. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want her with me all the time. I wonder if this is her way of getting close…but not too close. I shut off that fear. She’s here, right? And she’s changed her plans so we can be together.
She’s right. We should just enjoy this.
But I can’t—not just yet. There are still so many unanswered questions, and in order to know what to expect in the immediate future, I need more information. So I ask the next question on my mind. “And what about soul mates? You still believe Brock is yours.”
She sighs. “I’m in the process of revising that belief, actually.”
I pull away and then run a hand over my jaw, trying to allow this to sink in. My thoughts are racing, full of what ifs and whys. “But I haven’t proven myself worthy yet.”
She rises up on her elbow to look at me more directly. “Yes, you have. A dozen times over, you have.”
I’m silent. I don’t believe her.
Her hand caresses my face, my neck, trying to get me to look at her. Finally, she sighs again. “You were my champion, Wil. With Doug. You didn’t have to volunteer to fight another duel, but you did. And you’ve worked so hard to overcome everything that held you back the last time.
“You were my champion at Disneyland when I panicked because of the fireworks. You’re—you’re just an awesome human being. There is so much about you that is worthy, and I’m pissed that you ever believed you weren’t. Because nothing could be further from the truth. You’re the worthiest person I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and I believe in you.”
There it is again. That phrase, grabbing me like a vise around the throat. I’m in the grip of some complex emotions with no hope of being able to sort them out.