I had the urge to watch him for a few seconds before getting his attention. His arm was propped on the desk and his hand was lost in his hair as he leaned over the desk, his right hand flying across the page. His hair was a bit longer and he looked tan, which made me smile. He was wearing black jeans, no shoes, and a plain gray T-shirt. He looked casual and comfortable but his posture gave him a slightly dejected look. I wondered if it was because I was so late.
“Nate,” I finally spoke. He turned in his chair and looked at me. He blinked a few times, showing little recognition.
“Ava.” The word barely made a sound on his lips. He was testing it.
He stood but stayed where he was. We watched each other for a moment. I saw his eyes dart everywhere. He looked at my suitcase then up and down my body. He swayed again.
I dropped my suitcase and went to him. His hands gripped my face hard. Like the sun to the ocean, I sank into Nate before everything went quiet. We were together.
“You’re here.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Why did you make me wait?” He pulled away and opened his eyes wide, accusatorily.
“We agreed on a year.”
“No, I mean today.”
I looked away. “Oh, my flight . . .”
“Never mind,” he said, then he smashed his mouth to mine. I melted into him.
He pulled away suddenly and looked down at me, his eyes still wide. “So you planned to come back to me . . . all along, like you said you would?”
“I was counting down the minutes from the moment I left you on my mother’s doorstep. I had to do it; I had to prove . . .”
“Shh,” he said, stepping forward again and crushing his lips to mine. A second later, he pulled away abruptly again. I actually laughed this time. He smiled finally, sending both of us into a fit of laughter until we were almost crying. “We’re crazy. I can’t believe we did it.”
I looked earnestly into his eyes. “Thank you for the letters. It was the only way I got through it. You motivated me, so thank you. You proved to me how strong you are and how much you want us to be together. I’ll never ask for proof again. Now I can trust you and I hope you can trust me, too.”
“Barely.” He smiled. “You made it by the skin of your teeth, you know that?”
“Ha! Nate Meyers, did you develop a sense of humor while I was gone?”
He smirked. “I had to . . . to get through it.”
We fell into each other’s arms. “I’m here now.”
His expression turned serious. “If I blink, will you disappear?”
“I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me forever. That’s just how I operate. I’m a hundred percent or nothing.”
I was wearing a dress and a leather jacket when I walked into the house. Minutes later, I was wearing nothing at all.
“So you won’t ever leave?” He carried me quickly down the hall to the bedroom. Our bedroom.
“Never. My heart stays here.”
He kissed me and smiled against my mouth. “Where have you been?” he whispered.
“Growing up.”
“Me too,” he replied quickly.
We were a blur of bodies, trying to catch up on everything, interrupting each other with passionate kisses. Soon, we were in bed. He hovered over me, between my legs. The room was dark but the moonlight reflecting off of the ocean lit Nate’s face enough for me to see the wonder in his eyes. I brought my hands up and caressed his jaw. “What is it?” I asked.
“I’m just looking at my future, and it’s beautiful,” he said.
I smiled. “Forever is only now.”
Epilogue
Edith
It’s not exactly a comforting thought to know our medical professionals are batshit insane, especially as I approach my geriatric years. It was an absolute delight and frankly a relief to finally see the girl.
You see, my neighbor is a doctor. He’s a little off in the head, which is frightening when you consider his profession. He wears cowboy boots with his scrubs, yet he surfs every day. The boy is confused. He told me months ago about this girl and how beautiful she was and how she was going to come and live with him. I have to admit, I didn’t believe a damn word he said. He’s handsome enough to be Los Angeles’s most eligible bachelor, but he’s a little strange, like I said, hung up on a girl I was certain didn’t exist. And then she came.
I was sitting on my veranda one morning when I saw the two of them on their balcony. I’m generally not a nosey neighbor, I don’t pry, and I never gossip. Except of course when Joanna Jacobs was sleeping with Kylie Whitmore’s husband, but that was just a public service announcement to let the neighborhood folks know, especially the married women. I wouldn’t call it gossip.