She paced as she spoke. “I get that. It took me a long time to understand, but I swear I do. It doesn’t change the fact that you broke my heart, Jamie. It doesn’t change the fact that you buried those feelings again for ten years, saw me with another guy, and then just had to have me even though you were with someone else.” She crossed her arms, hugging herself like he wished he was doing. “The secret agenda is one thing, but doing it behind your girlfriend’s back? If I hadn’t chosen correctly, were you going to go home to her like nothing happened?”
Oh shit. He hadn’t told her about Liz. Fucking shit. He thought he was pulling out the big guns, revealing his undying love for her and how long he’d felt this way. Instead he’d just dug himself into one hell of a hole because the way she spat those words at him—the way she saw things—it made him look like one hell of an asshole.
“Brynn.” He reached for her hand, and she stepped away. But she couldn’t escape his gaze. “Brynn.” He moved forward and cupped her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the first tear to fall. “I broke up with Liz the night of the reunion. I would never— I can’t believe you would think that of me. I wasn’t thinking clearly, especially after kissing you, or I would have told you before we…” He was starting to panic, the words pouring out of him as fast as they could come, but none of it sounded right. None of it seemed to change the look of betrayal in her eyes. “As for ten years ago, Jesus. I was a fucking kid. A scared fucking kid. That’s not me anymore.” He kissed her forehead. “That’s not us.” She opened her eyes, and Jamie motioned between them. “This is us. Right here. Right now. Everything that’s happened today has been real.”
She took a step back.
“Real or not, nothing has changed. You’ve had almost two weeks to tell me how you felt, but instead you’re more worried about protecting yourself. You’re exactly the same guy you were ten years ago. You may be keeping yourself safe from getting hurt, Jamie, but all you’re doing is breaking my heart again. I thought I’d made you a cheater. I thought you’d made me a home wrecker.” She took in a long breath and let it out. “I get how scared you were then. I really do. But this is now. We’re adults, and I don’t want to play games anymore. What does it matter how we might feel if you can’t be honest with me?”
Gasps came from the dining room, proof that what couldn’t be seen could still be heard, but the show went on. They were nearing the end of the act, and Jamie knew it was going to be one hell of a climax.
“Brynn, don’t.”
Then she asked the question she must have been asking herself all afternoon, the same one that gnawed at him every time he tried to analyze their situation.
“If today hadn’t happened…if there was no lucky bouquet—just like if there was no mono senior year—would we even be having this conversation? Or would we be winding down before the last leg of the journey, before you handed me off to another man?” She swiped at a tear, and his heart sank to his feet, maybe even out of his body and through the floor completely. “The day we left, you told me you were texting Liz good-bye. You wanted me to believe you were still with her, which means you had no intention of telling me you weren’t.”
Jamie felt the oxygen in the hallway thinning, or maybe Brynn’s line of questions had just knocked the air out of him. There was more for him to say, but it was time for the lights to come up. The show was over, folks.
When he hesitated too long before answering her questions, Brynn backed out of the hallway, her hand over her mouth.
“Well, damn, son. You got yourself a fiery little wife there.”
Jamie spun to face Frank, Dora standing next to him. He let out a long breath. No more lies.
“We’re not married,” he said. “That’s the woman I’ve been in love with since I was sixteen, but she’s not my wife. She was my best friend up until today, but now we’re probably not even that. I’m sorry we took advantage of your kindness. I’ll pay for the room, the meals—all of it. I’m just—sorry.”
He didn’t wait for a response, deciding to wallow in his own self-pity while he looked for Brynn. And because timing was everything, Jamie’s phone buzzed with a text.
Annie. Which meant Brynn told Holly everything.
Annie: Tell me you’ve got good news!
He wished he could.
Jamie: Actually, pretty sure I fucked up. I think I already lost her.
Annie: Impossible. I just talked to Holly. That girl loves you. You just need to iron out the wrinkles.
Jamie: I know. I love her, too. But that might not be enough.
Annie: Ugh. Such a crock. Love is always enough, because if you love someone then you fight to make it work.
Jamie smiled at this. He wanted to believe her, and he wanted to fight for Brynn like he should have ten years ago, like he should have ten fucking days ago. But she had to fight for them, too, and he was afraid Brynn had already given up.
Jamie: Afraid it might be a one-sided battle.
Annie: Good. Odds are in your favor, then. Wear her down so she has no choice but to fight back. You could tell her about L.A., you know.
He ignored that last part. He wasn’t going to throw some idiot grand gesture her way now. It would only show he’d been keeping something else from her. Still, Annie’s confidence buoyed him enough to continue.