Little Do We Know(84)

“I loved all these things about you,” he said. “Before the accident, I pictured giving you this card, and hearing you tell me all the things you loved about me. But after the accident, everything changed. I couldn’t imagine what you’d say.”

“Luke…”

“Last night, you said you didn’t want me to see your flaws…your broken places. Well, I didn’t want to let you see mine either. My mind is a mess. My whole stomach is one huge, disgusting scar. I have horrible nightmares. I wake up constantly, sweating and shaking and feeling like I’m dying all over again. I’m different. And I know you want it to be temporary, but it’s not. What happened to me changed me.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

“How is it okay?” He closed his eyes tightly. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“You’re still you.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and I buried my face in his neck as I intertwined my legs with his. We held each other like that for a long time. When he brought his mouth to mine, neither one of us closed our eyes. I felt like I could see through him, all the way down to his soul, and I loved what I saw.

“I missed you,” he said, and then we kissed again, and I closed my eyes and paid attention to the little things—his taste on my tongue, and his hands in my hair, and his breath rising and falling with mine—and all I could think about was how much I loved him. The old Luke. The new Luke. I didn’t care.

I slowly climbed on top of him, carefully straddling his hips. I checked to be sure I wasn’t hurting him. He assured me I wasn’t. I pulled my sweatshirt over my head and felt his hands slide around my waist. I started unbuttoning his shirt.

I could see his scar, starting right after the fourth button, just below his rib cage, and I kissed it. And then I undid another button, and kissed him again. I kept going, and when I reached the last button, I let his shirt fall open. I planted a soft kiss on his scar, and traveled back up again, kissing him all the way to his chin.

“I love kissing you,” I said. “I love the way you make me laugh without even trying. I love when you call me Em. I love the way you taste like peppermint all the time. I love wearing your jersey. I love talking to you, super close, like this.” That made him laugh. “I love the way your brain works. I love that what happened to you that night mattered to you, and that you want to talk about it, and figure it out, and tell other people, because it might give them hope in something they can’t see.” I brought my mouth to his. “I love you more right now than I did two weeks ago, and that’s really saying something.”

I unbuttoned his jeans, slid them over his hips, and tossed them on the floor. He helped me out of my sweats and added them to the pile next to his bed. I unhooked my bra and dropped it on the floor, and we were both giggling as we struggled with his socks and our underwear, getting all tangled up in the sheets as we tried to get rid of everything.

Finally, we slid back inside the warm covers, the sun streaming through the window, skin to skin, with nothing in between us. I wanted him so much I could barely stand it, but I forced myself to slow down, because I didn’t want to forget this morning, just like I didn’t want to forget any of the nights we’d had together. He rolled over slightly, reaching in between the mattress and the box spring for a condom, while I slid my hands over his skin, loving the way his body felt under my fingertips.

He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I brushed my lips against his neck, and his cheek, and his lips, and I felt his fingertips slide down my spine and rest on my hips. We moved together for a long time, kissing and touching and teasing each other, until neither one of us could stand it a second longer. And when he was inside me, I told him I loved him again, even though I’d already said it too many times to count, and I thought I might choke on the words, because I meant them in a way that made my heart ache. I couldn’t stand the idea of us not being us someday. But we were here now. Alone in his room. Waking up together. Exposing all our secrets and flaws to each other.

I closed my eyes and lost myself in him, pretending we would be that way forever.



Afterward, I had no idea what to type. I had far too many choices. So I kept it simple.

Day 302: “Good morning.”





I stayed in bed all day Saturday, dozing and binge-watching movies on my laptop.

Every so often, I’d get up and look out the window. David’s car was there, but then it was gone. Emory’s mom’s catering van was there, but at some point, it disappeared, too.

I still hadn’t seen any sign of Emory.

A little after 2:00, I finally saw Luke’s Jetta pull into her driveway. I watched them kiss good-bye, and then Emory got out and Luke drove off. She worked her key in the front door, stepped inside, and closed it behind her.

I waited.

And waited.

I waited until I couldn’t stand it a second longer, and then I reached for my phone.

I started to type the word, but it popped up on my screen before I had a chance to.

Emory: GRASS?

Her shade snapped up and she was standing there, looking at me.

I held my hand up and waved.

She waved back.

As I walked down my hallway, I pictured her walking down hers at the exact same pace.

I stepped off our back porch, and she stepped off hers at the same time.