10
Jimmy
Go Ahead, Rip My Heart Out
Ihold onto her the way she holds onto me. Like our lives depend on it. As though we’ll never get this again. She sobs into my shirt and clutches at me like she’s scared I’m going to run away.
How could I run from her? I love her.
I’ve been so mad at her, so hurt, and I can’t even pinpoint exactly when or why it began. I knew she was dating Ben. I knew that she had been for months, so why did I treat her dating like it was no big deal, then after they broke up, I turned into a fucking dick?
I should have been celebrating. My girl was single again, and even if I can’t claim my rightful place by her side, at least no other fucker was in my seat.
I don’t mean for her to be alone forever. I just don’t want her to be with anyone that isn’t me.
Twisted. Right?
Fuck!
I’ve loved this girl for as long as I can remember. She’s who I think about at night. She’s who I wake thinking about. She’s who I dream about. And on the really lucky days, I do all three of those things while she’s sleeping in my arms.
Every moment of every day I think about her, I worry about her, I crave her. I want to taste her. I want her to love me, even half as much as I love her.
It makes me sick to think about her dating other men.
Literally. Sick.
It’s not that I don’t love her enough to make my claim. Fuck, I love her more than any man ever loved a woman. Even more than Bobby and Kit, and the feelings those two fling around the house are pretty fucking potent.
No, it’s not that I don’t love her enough. It’s that she’s still so young. A baby. I refuse to limit her. I refuse to stunt her life and tie her down this young. I want her to choose me. And I want her to do it at an age I know she won’t have regrets.
I don’t want her to look back in a decade and regret settling down so young. I don’t want her to look back and regret a single minute she spent with me. So I say no, I say she’s too young, I say she doesn’t know what she’s asking, and I watch the way her light dims every time I shut her down.
I’m ready for her.
I choose her.
I just need to keep holding on while every other smooth-talking prick in the universe tries to make her smile.
For now, forever, I’m her best friend, her supporter, her cheer squad, and I watch her fight and have fun. I watch her date and I pray to a God I don’t know that she doesn’t like any of them. And every single day, I drop my hands in my pockets and finger the ring I bought her years ago.
When she’s ready, I’ll give it to her. When she’s seen the world and had her fun, I’ll ask her to be mine and she’ll do it with no regrets.
It’s a long game; a really painful fucking game, but a game I get no choice in.
I pull back just a bare inch and lift her chin to look me in the eye. Hers are soaked in tears, and each drop that falls sends a painful splinter through my heart. I could actually, literally, describe the pain in my chest. “Izzy?”I love you.“Talk to me.”I love you!
I rub my thumb across her cheek and watch the way her eyes soften, and in response, she presses her face into my palm with a soft hum. “Jimmy.” She clears her croaky throat and sends my heart skittering. Her brows crinkle sadly, and take us right back to when she was five with a skinned knee. “Jimmy,” she tries again with a whisper.
I lean my face closer until our noses almost touch. “Bubs? I’m begging you to talk to me.”
I’ve never in my life called her Bubs in front of our brothers. It’s private; just between us, but she has shit bursting to the surface that’s been buried for years. Never have I held her like this in front of them. Never have I stroked her face in front of them. Never have I used her nickname outside of her room or mine. “Talk to me, please?” She’s terrifying me. She has my heart beating a dangerous tattoo that I’m not sure I can take much more of.
“Jimmy…” She clasps at my hands and keeps them pressed to her face. She takes a hiccupping breath and closes her eyes. “I need you to promise me something…”
“Anything.”I love you.“Absolutely anything. Forever.” Words we’ve said to each other a million times in the past.Anything. Forever.As true today as they were the first time we spoke them.
“Promise me, someday, probably not today…” She swallows back fresh tears. “Someday… promise that you’ll forgive me.”