It’s cold as hell as I sit on the front porch swing, staring out onto the front yard. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orangey glow and it’s familiar. I’m home. My mother is inside cooking frantically, having just gotten the call that my father will be arriving home within the hour and Justin is upstairs on a business call. And I’m out here on the porch, under a thick blanket, waiting.

Today was one of those days where I can’t quite explain it but everything has changed. Taking Justin to the meadow and being with him there it was like a weight had been lifted from me. A weight that had been on me since I had talked to my mother a few days ago. I don’t need a man with a nine-to-five job anymore. I need Justin. I can’t explain it but for some reason that makes sense and it’s enough. He’s enough.

“Hey.”

I look over and see Justin standing tentatively in the doorway and I smile at him. He grins back, letting the screen door bang behind him as he steps out, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his breath coming in little white clouds.

“Whatcha doin?” he asks, standing next to the swing and following my gaze out over the lawn.

I tighten my arms around myself under my blanket. “Waiting.”

“Oh,” he says, nodding slowly and he seems nervous, awkward. I glance up at him perplexed. “Um…is this seat taken?” he jokes, smiling but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No,” I say, scooting over a little and he settles in beside me, folding his hands in his lap and I regard him curiously for a moment before looking out over the lawn again.

“Viv said your dad’ll be home soon,” he says and I nod, smiling slightly to myself.

“What did your publicist want?” I ask and I hear him snort.

“Some promotional thing. I told her no,” he says dismissively and I nod.

We fall into silence then and I’m happy just to have him with me, to feel his body warm next to mine. I could stay like this forever, just he and I watching the sun set over my sleepy little subdivision.

“Are we okay?”

His voice is soft, gentle and my head snaps to him, finding him squinting out at the setting sun and I realize his body is tense next to mine. He won’t look at me.

“Yeah,” I say my hand slipping out from under the blanket to rest on his thigh, warm through the denim of his jeans.

“Are you sure?” he asks, squinting more and his face is contorted into a grimace as he shifts next to me. “Because…” he trails looking down at his lap and my brows knit turning on my hip to face him.

“What Justin?” I ask softly the hand on his thigh squeezing gently as my other reaches up to brush through the hair at his temple.

He tilts his head away and I blink startled by his aversion to my touch. Something’s bothering him. Bothering him enough to pull away from me and I frown as I let my hand rest lightly on his shoulder. He must sense my panic because one of his hands moves to mine on his thigh, picking it up and holding it in his, examining my fingernails.

“You’ve just been…” he pausing sighing as he runs his thumb over my fingernails and I give his hand a squeeze.

“What?” I prod gently and he sighs, releasing my hand and I feel my heart begin to race. I wish he would just tell me.

“I can’t…I can’t really explain it,” he says, looking at me for the first time and I can see he’s not angry at me, but scared and confused. My hand goes to his face and he winces I move to pull back but he reaches up to hold it there. “Your hands are cold.” He holds it in his hand and blows, his warm breath heating my frozen fingers momentarily.

“Justin,” I say and he sighs, letting our hands fall to his lap where he looks at them, his fingers tangling in mine as he takes another deep breath.

“When…when we were together…b-before…” he stutters and I tense next to him but give him a short nod of understanding. “You would…you would get this look on your face…every time you would tell me that…” he pauses his fingers tangling more tightly in mine and it almost hurts but the panic blooming in my chest hurts worse. “that we shouldn’t be together anymore,” he finishes in a rush and his face relaxes a little but his eyes are intense as he turns to me. “It was the look you had at breakfast the other day and then at the diner. It’s the look you had when I came out here.”

“Justin-”

“Is there something wrong?” he asks, his fingers curling more tightly around mine, wringing his hand in mine nervously and I have to pry my fingers from his to press a hand against his chest. “I mean if I did something-”

“No…” I say, shaking my head firmly. “No…it was just… this thing with my dad.” I sigh heavily and my breath comes out a little white cloud. “Him leaving just…just does something to me I don’t know…”

I let my voice trail, pulling back to look back out over the lawn again and my arms cross over my chest, shivering in the cold. Justin’s arm wraps tightly around my shoulders, pulling my body against him and I’m warmed instantly, smiling as he fusses with the blanket, trying to get it to cover more of my body, tucking it under my thighs and I love him. How could I have ever doubted it or let myself think that something like his job could change that. Even if it hurts me sometimes, even if it’s hard it’s just something we’ll have to deal with. Because I love him. And that’s just going to have to be enough.

I let my head fall to his shoulder, my arms wrapping around his torso and he settles next to me, pressing his face into my hair and inhaling deeply, before pressing a kiss to the top of my head and we watch the sun paint everything pink and gold. Nothing is more perfect than this moment.

“I’ll never leave you,” he whispers softly and I feel my body tense just slightly, “and I’ll stay if you ask me.”

“Oh Justin don’t,” I say, moving to sit up but he doesn’t let me, his arm still firmly around my shoulders.

“I promise,” he says, squeezing me. “If you need me I’m there. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’m on the next plane.”

“Don’t,” I say, tears pricking at my eyes, knowing this isn’t true. Knowing if he’s working he won’t come. I’m second. I’m content with second, but I won’t be if he promises me first and falls short of it. “Don’t.”

“Why?” he asks, his finger hooking under my chin, trying to get me to look at him. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not true,” I whisper and I wish it was darker so I can’t see his brows knit, can’t see the hurt in his eyes.

“Yes it is,” he says, his thumb stroking my chin softly. “I mean it.”

“What if you’re in the studio? In the middle of an interview? On stage?” I sigh and he presses his lips into a line. “It’s fine, Justin!” I say because it is. It has to be because this is how it is. “It’s how you should be. Just don’t promise me you will when you can’t.”

“But I will,” he says, his face grave and I shake my head but he holds my face steady. “You’re the most important thing in my life, Skylar.”

I laugh, trying to shake my head again but his grip is firm.

“I’m serious,” he says and his other hand comes up to smooth my hair back from my face as he adds quietly. “I’ve…I’ve thought about it.”

I eye him skeptically, not allowing my hopes to rise just yet. Not allowing myself to believe that he would put me first. Although he’s never lied to me. He’s never made a promise he hasn’t kept. But I know him. I know how much he loves the music, how he lets it take him where it leads and how a lot of times that’s far away from me. How he views it as a regrettable side effect but that doesn’t stop him from going. And I don’t begrudge him that. And that’s the difference. That’s what makes it tolerable. I don’t want him to stop. It’s too much a part of who he is, part of the man that I love. I love him too much to force him to let it go.

“Skylar,” he says softly and I shake my head. “No listen to me,” he says and his eyes are deep and earnest as his hands reach for mine under the blanket. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I was willing to give it up for us then and I’m willing to do it now.”

“No,” I say firmly and he sighs. “Justin…I…I don’t want to change you,” I say my fingers squeezing his and I can tell he’s frustrated. “You don’t have to change for me.”

“But I will,” he says desperately and I sigh forcing out a laugh. He’s so intense sometimes.

“I’m glad you’re willing but I’m not going to do that to you,” I say. “I’m not giving you an ultimatum. I’ll deal with it.”

“But it hurts you,” he says, his voice earnest as his hand comes up to cup my face. “Don’t deny it Skylar it does.”

“It does,” I admit softly and his face crumples in guilt his hand falling from my cheek. I reach up to smudge my thumb along his cheek bone. “But it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he growls forcefully and his eyes are hard in anger. “I want us to have a life together. I want us to…to…”

“Yes?” I ask my heart pounding and his ears redden shifting.

“I don’t know. You know how I get with all this…this…forever bullshit,” he mutters and I giggle reaching to run my fingers through his hair and he chuckles a little himself.

“I’m not asking you for anything Justin,” I say gently and his shoulders slump. “I can tell you want to. But I’m not going to ask you to quit something you love just because it’s hard on me. It’d be harder on me to see you miserable.”

He sighs, leaning back and then eyeing me skeptically. “You’re sure?” he asks, his eyes searching mine and I nod.

“Its different Justin,” I say and I glance around. “It’s different then this.” He nods looking down at his hands. I smirk. “Now if we decided to have kids-”

“Whoa!” he exclaims, like he always does when I say stuff like that. “Slow down there. I’ll jump off that bridge when we come to it.” I smack him with the back of my hand and he chuckles, throwing his arm back around my shoulders and I throw the blanket across his legs covering us both as I press my face into his neck.

“You’d quit your job at the museum if I asked you to right?” he asks and I smirk, feeling him shiver as I press my cold nose against his pulse point.

“No,” I say simply and I can practically feel him frown as he struggles to look down at me.

“What?” he asks his voice jumping an octave and I giggle, snuggling closer to him. “I’m willing to give up music, my passion,” he says pressing a hand to his heart dramatically, “and you can’t give up your nine-to-five.”

“Justin,” I say, resting my chin against his shoulder, my finger tracing down the zipper of his coat. “Can you imagine what I would be like if I didn’t work at the museum?” I watch his face contort as he tries. “Do you know what your life would be like if I couldn’t talk about art all day with colleagues and collectors?” His face blanches.

“I would never ask you to quit your job at the museum,” he says quickly and I grin, pecking his cheek softly.

“Exactly.” I sigh, resting my head against his shoulder again and he can’t help but smile, his arm tightening around me. “We’re okay, Justin.” I add softly and I feel him nod against me, his body finally relaxing completely.

It’s almost completely dark now, the street lamps turning on as a familiar car pulls onto our street. I watch as it creeps down the road, slowing as it turns into our driveway and I press my face to Justin’s neck, inhaling deeply before pulling back. I don’t jump up and run down the steps. I don’t fling myself at my father as he steps out of the car. What I do instead is wait, savoring the warmth of Justin’s body beside me as long as I can before I stand up and reach for his hand, happy that even though I still wait, I’m not alone anymore.

The End