Back To You - A Second Chance Romance

We would have had nothing but foolish love, no money, no plans, no future. I hadn’t been ready to risk it all, give it all up, and hope for the best.

“I should go to bed,” I said after things fell silent between us. We were obviously both in our own heads, and I had already made up my mind about keeping things friendly between us.

“It is getting late,” he said, raking his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, you should go too. I don’t want you getting eaten by a wild animal. Ben would kill me.”

He laughed. “Yeah, Ben would kill me too.”

We walked back to the tents, mine between the next two cabins and his just past the cabin between us.

“Goodnight, Jake,” I said, stopping at my door.

He put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Kate.”

I spun around, my heart aching that we had to part ways, but I knew it was for the best. “What is it?”

He searched my eyes with a pained expression. I felt as if he wanted to kiss me, but then he let out a deep breath. “Nothing. Just sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Jake.” I went into my tent and shut the door. Thankfully, the heavy-duty strength of the canvas on the metal frame made it more like a cabin, and the fact that there wasn’t any space between the cabin exteriors made it extra private. Quiet enough to muffle my breath of relief.

I had somehow managed to muster the strength not to kiss him, and I hadn’t let him into the tent. Perhaps my willpower was strong, but I missed him already.

I lay down, knowing it was best to stay dressed and ready for action in the jungle. Anything could happen at the drop of a hat, and I knew I’d be the first one they’d come running to.

It was fine. I was comfortable that way.

I stretched out on the cot under the mosquito net and closed my eyes, hoping I’d get through the night without anyone or anything waking me. As I tried to relax and rest my mind, I saw Jake’s younger self on his bike, just how I remembered him.

He went everywhere on that bike, down every back road and even into town, and it wasn’t anything to see him any time of day. He even rode it to school and work before he got his truck. It must have been his getaway bike, taking him away from all the problems at home. How could I have expected him to stay in Beloit?

I imagined what our life would have been like had we both stayed. I would have probably taken some kind of online college or night courses closer to home, but I would have definitely used my scholarship or gotten my education. That had been a given. My studies were my sanctuary at twilight, my getaway bike.

Maybe we would have both done better than our parents, but starting out, I could see us finding a quaint little apartment, something that would be affordable while we both worked and tried to save up for a better place.

I could see us spending quiet evenings alone together, him helping me through school, and me supporting him through whatever career path he’d have taken. Maybe we would have found a community theater, or he could have studied acting at the college. We would have made it work.

We might have already started a family and raise a son or a daughter. I could see us both, me standing in the bathroom waiting on a pregnancy test, and him pacing our tiny apartment telling me he would want a little girl just like me. I could even see myself, a large pregnant belly, him putting his arms around me and holding it or planting soft kisses around my navel as he sang to our baby.

It all seemed so perfect when I thought about it now, but in reality, we would have had hard times, and maybe it wouldn’t have worked at all. We might have had to live in a shack, him miserable and constantly out of work, and me resentful that I didn’t make it to college. Maybe I’d have made a horrible mother while we outgrew our home because we couldn’t afford anything better.

And even though it probably had all turned out for the best, deep down, I was still holding a bit of animosity knowing that I never had the chance to find out.

But would I really sacrifice the life I had for it to have been that way? Not in a million years if I was being honest with myself. I had no regrets, and I was sure Jake’s only regret was not talking his way into my pants again.

If he’d have kissed me goodnight, I would have totally given in, and knowing that made me feel weak. He had a look of hunger in his eyes, and it had taken all I could muster not to kiss him myself.