I want to prolong this kiss, but her phone rings. The loud ringtone echoes throughout the house, pulling us apart.
She brings her fingertips to her lips.
“You should get that.” I pant.
Her chest heaves as she continues watching me.
Her phone quiets, then rings again.
She shakes her head like she’s trying to remind herself where she is, then rushes to the kitchen and answers, “Hey, Dad.”
I follow her and wait in the middle of the kitchen as she talks to Terry. She angles her body toward me, her fingers on her bottom lip.
I want to reach out so badly.
But I don’t know what just happened.
Do I tell her I’ll call her later? Then what?
I don’t know the answers, but I do know we’re not finished here.
Once she hangs up, she says, “I need to get going. Their dinner ran long, but my dad is on his way to my house with Jacob. I want to be home when they get there.”
I nod as she fishes her keys out of her purse, then slings it over her shoulder.
I can’t let her leave without saying something—anything.
“You know, as many times as I pictured this, I never considered what I’d do if I got to kiss you again.”
She bites her lip, one side lifting upward.
“Let’s go out. Just you and me. We won’t tell Jacob or anyone. This way, there’s no pressure. Just a casual date. Name the day.”
“I think I’d like to go out with you, Dax.” She softly exhales. “How about Saturday?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven on Saturday.”
“I’ll have to drop Jacob off at my mom’s. Maybe I’ll just meet you somewhere?”
My lip twitches. “Clara, I’m picking you up. Whether it’s from your house or your mom’s or the moon. I’m picking you up.”
“We’ll do it your way, then.” She laughs. “No need to go to the moon, though.”
“Good because I did not want to have to fish out my astronaut suit. That thing is a pain.”
We watch each other, our eyes dancing, and then I walk her to the front door. I run my hand up her arm, to her shoulder, to cup the back of her neck, and I kiss her, my lips moving across hers like a calm breeze—smooth and natural.
With a small wave, she’s gone, but her taste on my lips still lingers, even two hours later.
I went for a five-mile run, ate dinner, showered, and still, Clara’s at the center of my mind.
Over fifteen years’ worth of patience.
Of pining.
And we have a date this weekend.
She said yes to a date with me.
Everything I’ve dreamed of—it’s happening.
I run my hand down my face, over my smile, and breathe a sigh of relief. It’s all falling into place.
“Open up, Clara.” I bang on her front door, knowing she’s inside. Her SUV is in her driveway and not at her mom’s like it’s supposed to be.
She said she’d be there.
I called and texted her, but all she did was send a curt text that she couldn’t make our date.
“Clara.” I bang again, ready to break the door down. Ready to kick it in like I’ve seen cops do on TV.
She finally pulls it open and pushes me outside onto the porch, closing the door behind her. She’s in leggings and a long T-shirt. Her hair is piled on her head.
I check her up and down, putting my fingers on the side of her throat to check her glands. “Are you hurt? Feeling okay? Is Jacob sick?”
“No, we’re fine.” She crosses her arms and avoids eye contact.
“Then what the hell happened?”
Tears well in her eyes as she bites her lip. Tucking her stray hair behind her ear, she finally meets my gaze, and I can already tell I’m not going to like what she has to say. “What happened, Dax? We made out in your room the other night. We had sex last weekend.”
“And it was all fantastic.”
“It was.” She sighs. “I got home with the biggest smile on my face, but then I walked inside and—”
“And what?” I cup her cheeks in both my hands, encouraging her to tell me, but she squeezes her eyes closed and pulls my hands down.
“Then I went inside my house. The house where I’m a mother. Where my dead husband’s pictures cover the walls. I have responsibilities. Feelings to consider. Guilt.” Her laugh is humorless. “I’ve been kidding myself this whole time about moving on.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“I made a vow over ten years ago. That level of commitment doesn’t just go away. Mitch and I weren’t perfect, but I miss him,” she whispers the last part. She’s talking to me, but her soft and scared voice makes it seem like she doesn’t want me to hear her. “Jacob misses him. I don’t want him to forget his own father, and I’m being selfish by dating. By springing yet another change on us.”
I step back, clutching my hand over my aching heart, and the dread in my stomach grows with every word.
She runs her hand down my shoulder, then grips my forearm, loosens her fingers around it, then squeezes again. “You’re not a secret, or a fling. Nothing about you is casual. You’re not a random guy I picked up at a bar. My son calls you Uncle Dax, for God’s sake. We’re not ready to move on. I’m not ready for a relationship, and I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.” I grab her hand, holding it over a heart that has only ever beat for her. “No matter what, we’d never lose each other. And you know I love Jacob like he’s my own. I’d never abandon him.”
Pain and resignation are laced through her words. “You say that now, but I’ll unintentionally hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you, Dax. I can’t.” She fists my shirt and leans her forehead on my chest. “I’m sorry.”
I wrap my arms around her, taking deep breaths like I’m inhaling her words. Like that’s the only way I’ll understand what she’s saying.
I
