Chapter 47
*Mikayla*
I call Lucy to pick me up from the hotel and take me home. I didn’t hear from Jake. No phone calls. I even made sure it was fully charged. Nothing.
I think we’re done.
When we pull into my driveway, Logan's car is there, and he’s leaning against it.
“Asshole,” Lucy greets with a head nod.
“Kinky Hornbag,” he replies, but she’s already reversing out the driveway.
“Where were you?” he asks me.
“Long story, how is he?”
“Who?”
“Jake.”
“What? I don’t know.”
“Oh.” I thought for sure Jake would be with him.
“What about Jake?” he asks, eyeing me curiously.
“Um, nothing. What’s up? What are you doing here?”
I’m not looking at him, but I can feel him watching me.
It’s awkward and uncomfortable, so after a few seconds I look up at him.
He’s still watching.
So, we stand there.
For seconds, minutes, hours… who knows.
Watching each other.
Waiting for one of us to talk first.
Then finally, he breaks.
“My friends mom is selling her car, it’s in your budget. I thought I’d take you to look at it.” He says this like a question.
“Okay,” I say quietly.
I bring mine and Jake's overnight bags into the house and drop them just inside the front door before turning and getting into Logan's car.
***
“So I’ll pick you up on wednesday and take you there to get it, yeah?” Logan asks.
“Thanks.” I’m still quiet. I haven’t said much.
He hasn’t asked again.
It’s awkward.
Awkwardly silent.
Then a tear falls down my cheek and I wipe it away quickly.
I turn to look at him.
“I love him, Logan,” I say. Because if I can’t tell Jake, then somebody needs to know.
He looks at me before turning back to the road.
“No shit,” he deadpans.
“I think we’re done.”
He shakes his head, still looking straight ahead. “You guys will never be done.”
“He’s it for me, Jake, I mean, he was it. He was my happily ever after.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I can’t give myself to him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t be who I want to be with him. I can’t give him everything. I’m still broken and I need to pick up the pieces of myself and put them back together. If I give myself to him, I have to be complete. I can’t be half the person I want to be.”
He pulls over on the side of the road and turns the car off.
Then he looks at me.
For what seems like a lifetime.
“I’m sorry, Micky,” he says. I look down, because I am too. I’m so fucking sorry.
“I’m sorry, but I think you’re wrong,” he continues.
My eyes dart to his.
“Jake, he saw you at your worst. He was there when your life changed and your heart shattered. He was there to help you piece some of it back together. He’s seen it all, Micky. He’s seen you at your worst and he still fell in love with you. Like, truly, the forever kind of love with you. And I’m sorry, because I think your wrong. Maybe you don’t need to be a complete person, or maybe you do. But maybe, he’s it. Maybe he’s the other half of you.”