I feel the same now. As I look into her amber eyes, a lump forms in my throat. Warmth fills up my chest. Before I can think, my arm stretches out towards Jenna. My fingers brush against her cheek.
She blushes. I cup her cheek and hold her gaze. Her eyes glimmer with anticipation, hope.
Fear.
Jenna pushes my hand away. “Dax.”
I step back as the spell of one magical moment shatters. I open my mouth to issue an apology but no words come out. Why should I say sorry when I’m not?
Jenna puts her glasses back on. “I’m leaving.”
She walks past me. I grab her arm. “Jenna, wait.”
She wrenches her arm away. “What?”
“Let’s talk,” I tell her. “It’s what we came here to do.”
She frowns. “I should have known a guy wouldn’t bring a girl to a museum without ulterior motives.”
“That’s unfair, Jenna. I told you I wanted to talk.”
“You know what’s unfair? You bringing me to a science museum in hopes that it would make me lower my guard and make it easier for you to pull your tricks on me.”
I let out a breath. “I wasn’t pulling – ”
“And you nearly succeeded, but guess what? I’m not as foolish as I used to be.”
I shake my head. “You weren’t foolish, Jenna.”
“No?” I hear her emotions rise with her voice. “Then what do you call someone who falls in love with someone who was all wrong for her, who gives him everything she has, thinking, hoping that maybe he’s the one, only to have him throw her away?”
I swallow. “I didn’t throw you away, Jenna.”
“But you did. I asked you to take me with you, remember?”
“You had one more semester,” I remind her.
And a bright career in store. I wasn’t going to take that away from her.
“When you refused, I even offered to wait for you,” she points out. “But you would have none of that, either.”
“Because I wasn’t sure when I’d be back. If I ever came back.”
“Yes, I remember,” Jenna says. “Indefinitely. That was the word you used. Yet here you are now.”
“Because I took matters into my own hands,” I tell her.
And not without difficulty.
Jenna nods slowly. “Well, maybe you should have grown balls sooner.”
My jaw clenches. I knew she was mad at me, but not this mad.
I draw a deep breath. I should stay calm. If I match her temper, nothing will come of this conversation and I might end up breaking something I can’t replace.
“What’s done is done, Jenna.”
“You’re right,” she agrees. “And it can’t be undone.”
“I’m not trying to undo it. I’m trying to make up for it. I’m taking matters into my own hands now, Jenna, but I can’t do it alone. So I’m asking you to give me another chance. If you do, I’ll – ”
“Another chance?” Jenna lets out a derisive snort. “To break my heart?”
“That won’t happen again,” I assure her.
“Yes. And padded blazers will never come back.”
I let out a sigh. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but Jenna sure is making it as hard as it can be. Whatever happened to the sweet, gentle Jenna I used to know?
“Fine,” I say. “I won’t promise I won’t break your heart. But I will try not to. You say you’re smarter now. So am I. I won’t make the mistake of hurting you if I can help it. Isn’t that good enough?”
Judging from the scowl still on Jenna’s face – I’ve never seen her scowl this much before – apparently not.
She shakes her head. “You have no right to ask me anything.”
“No,” I agree. “But I’m asking just the same.”
Another snort. “You sure have got guts.”
“First you get mad at me for not having guts. Now you’d rather I not have them. Which will it be?”
“I wish you’d had guts a year ago,” Jenna answers. “I wish you’d fought for me even just a little bit.”
She holds her thumb and forefinger half an inch apart.
I wanted to fight for her, damn it. But my hands were tied.
“I wish I could have done things differently, too,” I tell her. “But like you said, what’s done is done. And I’m here now to do whatever has to be done to make things right.”
I take Jenna’s hand in mine and look into her eyes. “If you won’t give me a chance, Jenna, give us a chance. We deserve that, don’t we?”
She looks away. “Well, we don’t always get what we deserve, do we?”
I look at her curiously. She’s still saying no? Shit, she’s stubborn.
“Jenna…”
“I wish it was that easy, Dax.” I hear the pain in Jenna’s voice as she pulls her hand away and holds it against her chest. “I wish it was that simple, but it’s not. It’s too late for us, Dax.”
Too late? But we’ve only been apart a year and we’re both still here. I don’t understand.