Page 96 of One More Chance

Harper

The hallwayof this hotel smells like a hospital. It’s clean, too clean. A chemical scent fills the air all around me, as if they’ve attempted to disinfect every inch of it. The door, to room four-ten, stares back at me as I trace each number with my eyes. My hands are at my sides, trembling and coiled into fists. Jensen is just beyond this door and I’ve been standing here for a full seven minutes, willing myself to knock. After the first few went by, I wondered if he’d open the door before I got the chance to knock. Although, I don’t know where he’d be going at this hour.

I caught a red-eye flight from Kentucky to Los Angeles, took an Uber here, and now it’s four-something in the morning. Yes, four. Good ol’ time zone working for me. I had Cora find out exactly where Jensen was staying and confirm he hadn’t left yet and wouldn’t check out before I got there. She asked for his room number “in case of an emergency” and passed the information along to me.

Now, I’m standing here, too chicken shit to knock. I practiced a speech all the way here. On the airplane, in the Uber, in the elevator to the fourth floor, and for the last seven minutes I’ve been standing here. Sure, I could’ve called him. I could’ve texted or emailed or even sent a telegram, but none of that felt good enough. How would that text read? Sorry, I think I made a huge mistake. Will you forgive me and live happily ever after with me? Dumb.

No. It had to be like this. With that thought, I lift my hand and knock before I can convince myself to turn away. I wait for several seconds and hear nothing. Probably because he’s still asleep, dumbass. I knock again, this time harder and louder, realizing I likely have to wake him from sleep just to get him to come to the door.

A few more seconds go by so slowly, I think I might pass out. Then, I hear something. Finally. A shadow underneath the door moves closer and I hear the lock on the other side twisting. I suck in a breath, anticipation winning out over fear. This is it.

Jensen appears, rubbing his left eye with his palm as he leans his other hand against the open door. He finally looks at me, blinking several times as he brings me into focus. “Harper?” he says, his voice giving the impression that he isn’t quite sure it’s me.

“Hi,” I squeak. Smooth.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” he asks, shifting his eyes up and down my body and side to side, as if someone else is going to appear in the doorframe.

“No, everything is most definitely not okay,” I breathe out.

Jensen looks startled, clearly not expecting this answer to fall from my lips. “Come in,” he says. “Come in and tell me what’s wrong.” He moves back into the room, allowing space for me to pass him.

Walking to the edge of the bed, I survey my surroundings. His suitcase is open on a bench, most of his belongings not in it.

I take a deep breath, adjusting myself as I sit. “The thing is,” I say. “I’m in love with you.”

This admission catches Jensen off guard and stops him in his tracks. He stands at the room’s edge, staring at me.

So I go on. “And that’s a problem, or I thought it was a problem. I mean it’s a problem because I didn’t realize it in time. And I hurt you. I didn’t mean for that to happen. You were just there in your apartment, saying all these things and I couldn’t process it all. Or rather, I don’t think I wanted to. Maybe I wasn’t ready to. Does any of this make sense?”

Jensen only nods, offering no words of his own.

“Anyway, I got home, I cried a lot. And the short story is, I realized I’m an idiot. Or rather, in so many words, I was told I am.”

Again, Jensen only looks at me, rubbing his hand over his bare chest as if he’s been wounded and the place is still tender.

“So I had to tell you. I had to tell you I’m in love with you. And I want to be with you. And that scares me but I still want to do it.” My foot begins to tap the carpeted floor as anxiety washes over me again. The only sound in the room for several minutes is the pat pat pat my toes make as they bounce.

“You love me?” he asks.

I nod before I speak. “Yes.”

Jensen walks across the floor, falling to his knees when he’s right in front of me. His hands graze the backs of my bare knees and his thumbs press into the tender flesh of my thighs.

“I love you, too,” he whispers, relief softening his rigid shoulders.

The whole of him slumps, as if a tremendous weight has been lifted. I lift his face up to make eye contact with him. The smile playing across his lips widens and he removes a hand from my knee to wipe at the tears on my cheeks.

“Why are you still crying?” he asks.

“Because I’m happy,” I whisper, the words catching in my throat.

“Say it again,” he says.

“I love you.”

Jensen exhales, like he’s hearing it for the first time all over again. He brings his face level with mine, leaning up on his knees and pulling me down toward him. His forehead presses to mine and his eyes flutter shut.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to hear you say that,” he says. His lips meet mine in a gentle kiss at first and then it deepens. His arms come around my back as he stands, pushing me back on the bed. He lifts me further onto the bed, pressing a knee between my thighs.

My hands cup his face; my kiss consumes his mouth in a desperate frenzy. I hunger for him. I need him. I know this now. There’s no more denial. No more fear. My fears have been overpowered, swept away and replaced with hope, with love.

I don’t know exactly what the future holds for me, for us. Jensen and I could be together for years to come or we could decide by next week this won’t work. Either way, I’ll know I didn’t run.

I will know I gave us a chance.

And for now, that’s enough.