Dean:Don't assume you know what I want just because we had conversations over eleven years ago. Those conversations were between us. They were plans made between us. Things I wanted with you.
Dean:Goodnight.
My heart stops.Is he saying what I think he's saying?
Is he saying that he doesn't want a baby with Karina, his wife, because of plans we made years ago? Is he really saying that he only wanted a family with me? Fuck. I need to know.
I'm tipsy and reading way too much into his text. Surely that's not what he's saying at all… right?
Me:She's your wife.
Dean:Yet you're the only one I ever wanted a family with. Don't act surprised.
My heart stops.My heart fucking stops. I check my pulse to make sure I'm still alive.
Me:You can't say that. She's your wife.
Dean:We want different things. I'll never be able to give her the family she wants.
My heart aches for him.For the boy he once was, who wanted to be a father so badly.
Me:Why not? You can have the family that you want with her.
Dean:That’s not what I want.
Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.
I don't text back,I can't.
We are both stepping into dangerous territory right now.
THIRTEEN
THEN
Camille,13 years old
It's been one month since the night Dean took me to his secret place—the lighthouse. And for an entire month, we've been more inseparable than ever before. We're on summer vacation now, and we spend every waking moment with each other. He drives us to the lighthouse, and we spend hours there.
We'll read, talk about anything and everything, or he'll work on his blueprints, and I'll work on my sketches... or we'll kiss.
Lots and lots of kissing. We've been doing that a lot lately.
We have the perfect routine, and this is already by far the best summer ever.
I love spending time with Dean.
I love kissing him.
And I love our lighthouse.
Since that night a month ago when we kissed for the second time, he's been kissing me every day. We kiss all the time now. And I freakin’ love it! His lips are soft, and our lips move in perfect sync now. At first, we had no idea what we were doing, and our kissing was sloppy, but now it's magical.
My stomach fills with butterflies every time he kisses me.
I asked my parents yet again if I was able to date Dean, but they still said no, even though they know that we're best friends and always together. Mom says I must wait until I turn sixteen to have him as my boyfriend officially. She says it's okay for us to be friends, but I'm not old enough yet to date.
Little does she know that we're kissing. With tongue.