Page 105 of Love Is…?

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Page 105 of Love Is…?

Love is an a-ha moment.

Jayde smiled at Cath’s definition from months ago.Lovers of Melbournecontained a whole chapter where people had experienced their ‘a-ha’.

Love is being brave because a heart that’s strong is a heart that can be held.

“That’s mine,” Jayde said, suddenly realising when and where and who she’d spoken those words to.

“Tessa.” She pushed away from her desk and spun on the chair to face the room. Then she sprang up, threaded her fingers through her hair, and paced about. “Could I? Could I be brave enough? Is my heart strong enough to be held?” Jayde retraced her steps, then stopped dead. “It is strong enough, because if I send it out, maybe Tessa will bring it back with a souvenir. Maybe her heart.” Then she laughed, letting go of her hair and crossing her arms. “That’s completely mental.”

Her brain leaned in to remind her that it knew all about mental and Jayde loving Tessa didn’t qualify as mental at all. Her heart confirmed the same with a warm glow. Apparently her body had decided that loving Tessa was just fine.

“What if she doesn’t love me back?” Jayde whispered, then drew in a breath. And another.

Would it hurt to find out? She shoved the thought away, but it bounced right back. Yes, it would hurt, particularly if her love ended up as wishes in a well. She took a deep breath, grit her teeth, plucked up her phone, and tapped out a question.

Hi, Tess. Want to catch up tonight? xx

Then she tossedher phone on the office chair and resumed her pacing. Except she didn’t get very far because there was a knock. Assuming it was a delivery of something she couldn’t remember buying, Jayde opened the door to find Tessa, her body almost vibrating, eyes wide, her normally neat French cut in disarray.

“Hi! I just messaged you,” Jayde exclaimed, then quickly stepped back as Tessa, without a word, barrelled in, and began pacing around the lounge. Jayde stared, then let the door swing closed.

“What happened, Tess? You’re vibrating.”

Tessa chopped at the air. “No. I mean, yes.” Then she pointed to Jayde’s leather ottoman. “You. I need you to sit.”

Jayde walked over, lowered herself onto the seat and stared, not knowing whether to hug Tessa or grab a spatula to defend herself.

Tessa pointed emphatically. “You’re real!”

Jayde blinked. “Um… Yes?”

“Yes. And that’s why it’s different. Because you’re real.” Tessa waved her hands about haphazardly. “I’ve never been in love.”

Jayde was thoroughly confused. “Yes, you have. You said?—”

Tessa tossed her hands into the air effectively cutting Jayde off. “I’ve only been in love with an abstract noun.” She continued to pace, stopping briefly in front of Jayde.

“I’m not following,” Jayde said.

Tessa splayed her fingers and waved them at Jayde. “It’s like you’ve said all along. Being in love is dangerous because a heart’s going to get broken.”

Jayde’s breath caught and she sagged. “Tess, I just meant?—”

“And you were right.”

Jayde’s head shot up. “What?”

“You don’t do love therefore you don’t get your heart broken.” Tessa added finger guns to her set of gestures. “And I said I was in love with people but I wasn’t. I was in love with a perfect fantasy where they were perfect and the relationship was perfect and it didn’t matter when it ended because I’d fall in love with another fantasy again therefore saving myself from heartbreak because it wasn’t real anyway. It’s all protection.” Tessa inhaled, then whooshed out a breath, and continuedpacing the room. Suddenly, she froze, and stared into the kitchen.

Jayde stared at her back, not really having any clue what to say. “So… I’m right about love because it’s a fantasy and therefore you and I are both right?” It seemed the most logical interpretation.

Tessa whirled around. “Yes. Sort of. What I’m saying is that you’re real, that you’re not a fantasy, that you’re not perfect but kind of are.” Tessa’s flabbergasted, slightly stunned smile was contagious, and Jayde’s lips lifted.

“I’m not perfect?”

Tessa frowned. “Absolutely not.” Then she rushed over, and perched on the couch so their knees touched. She reached for Jayde’s hands. Jayde sighed at the warmth, then straightened.

“Hang on. If I’m not perfect and I’m not an abstract noun and I’m not make-believe, what am I?”




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