Mine Would Be You (91)

I’d be open to talking to him. If Nina can, and he put her through the ringer for years, then I can man up and do it too. I just don’t want to. At least not yet. I need to get back on my feet without my dad to fall back on before I open another wound.

I look around at my old childhood room that felt full of life when Nina was here, but now it just reminds me of my dad, and it makes me cold instead, the chill spreading over my skin.

Almost instantly, I open my laptop, pulling up the familiar airline, and look for flights.

I still see her dark, wavy hair blowing behind her as she walked into the airport after telling me she loved me. Drastically different from the guarded girl I first met. I’d wanted to say those words for weeks, before I found out about my dad, but she beat me to it. I didn’t want to say them when I was losing him, didn’t want my memory of that and of Nina weighed down with grief.

But she said it anyway, fearlessly. She’s come out of her shell and let me in, and I’m not going to ruin that or miss out on it. There have been multiple times I knew this was deeper than I thought. I knew she was something far more special than I could’ve anticipated when she pulled that ballcap out from under my seat on the way to the Hamptons.

Knew I was in deep when I made her a grilled cheese in the kitchen and couldn’t stop thinking about the smiles she gave me that were all mine. Or when she invited me over and made me soup, I knew she cared deeply and endlessly about those she let into her life, and I was honored to be making my way into it.

I knew I loved her when I saw her in her parents’ kitchen when we went for dinner. When she had been talking with her dad, she’d looked over her shoulder and smiled at me. A soft one, a Nina one in the yellow lighting of her family kitchen. I knew she was it for me.

A picture of my dad and I stares back at me from my dresser. I remember a conversation we had once when I was young and learning about death. He told me he wanted to be celebrated. He wanted us to live for him, not stop living because of him. I don’t know what life looks like without my dad; that will come with time, and I’m sure every day will bring new challenges, but if I can go through them with Nina . . . with her by my side, with her to lean on, I think I’ll get through it. Think I’ll make my dad proud.

I look around at my empty suitcases, and I shake my head, emotions flooding my body.

There’s no damn way I’m waiting to go see her, to go tell her how I feel. Nina has this way of making everyone feel seen and heard, and I watched her do it with my family and felt her do it with me. She lights up my entire world, and after everything, I think she deserves to know that sooner than later.





I’d hoped that my anxiety wouldn’t kick in after getting home from Georgia.

About telling Jackson how I felt, about putting myself out there.

But I was wrong. Anxiety sucks, and I wish my brain would just shut up and let me breathe. Let me enjoy this.

But for the past three days, I’ve been reeling. Just thinking about how I have to wait to see Jackson, about how I stupidly hope he’s going to say it back even though he’s shown me time and time again how he feels.

I sigh and eat another Fudge Stripe cookie. But quickly, they’re ripped out of my hands, and Harper is standing over me with a pointed look on her face. “Nina. Stop eating the cookies. They aren’t gonna make him come home any sooner.”

A scowl crosses my face. “Don’t be rude to me. I’m sensitive right now.”

She raises a brow from across the table. “Obviously.”

And I hold her glare until we both break out in a laugh. I know I’m being dramatic, but I don’t care. Jackson and I have talked since I left, but not about anything important. It’s okay. It’s only Wednesday, so I haven’t called much, mostly because I do want him to enjoy his time at home and only return when he’s ready. I’m also scared I’ll start babbling and say something stupid, like asking him to marry me.

“Nina, what are you really stressing about?” Harper watches me, breaking off her own cookie.

I sigh. “I just—I’ve never done this. Never dealt with grief like this, never opened myself up like this. Certainly never told anyone I loved them first.” I run my hands over my face. “It’s stupid. I’m just anxious.”

“You lost your grandparents in high school and college. You helped me through the grief of having shitty parents and claiming yours. You’ve dealt with all types of grief, losing close friends, losing Myles, losing your family members. There is no right or wrong or better way to help Jackson than to do what you can.”

I raise a brow. “When did you get so sentimental?”

“I hang out with you too much.” She deadpans before smiling. “And telling him you loved him? There is nothing fucking wrong with that. I don’t mean to be sappy, and I won’t be in five minutes, but you’re doing your best.

“No, I know. I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. You’re just in love.” Harper smiles, poking my cheek. “It’s nice. And that man loves you. Whether he said it or not, you know it’s true. I know it’s true. The whole fucking world knows it’s true.” I snake my hand out and grab another cookie, and she continues. “And soon, he’ll fly home and tell you that himself. So I can stop.”