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“Hey.” Amy hears his voice before she sees him. She’s nervous without a reason to be. It fits in with the way her life has gone so far, though. Things happening to her without reasonable cause.
“Hi.”
“Just gettin’ some fresh air.” He saunters over. He’s nervous, too.
“Where’s Kristen?”
“Uh, Kristen needed a break…” he sighs. “From…me.”
Amy’s all over the place. Most of her is relieved, somehow. The rest of her carries the apprehension he came over to her with. He found someone he really got along with, and it got fucked. People could say what they wanted about Amy, but no one could say she wasn’t empathetic. Selfless to a fault, Jonah usually said. A lot of talk about boundaries. So as he laughs at himself, nerves and all, she joins him, as if to comfort him without words or touch. She wishes she could reach out and do more. Something’s stopping her. She can’t pinpoint what. She also doesn’t get how Kristen needed a break from Jonah. Sure, there’s a learning curve when it comes to a guy with a background like his, but that’s all it was. Amy can’t imagine needing a break from Jonah. She doesn’t think she’d mind if she never got one.
“Where’s Adam?”
“Uh, Adam went home,” she tells him.
“Ah.” He nods. He tries to be neutral. But Amy knows Jonah, and that his hums of acknowledgement are always laden with subtext to rival a graduate thesis. She doesn’t know whether she wants to know what he’s thinking this time. It feels like she doesn’t know anything right now, honestly. Except she’s here, and she was alone, and now she's not because Jonah’s standing in front of her.
“Uh, well…I’ll…I’ll leave you alone,” he says, turning around and making a start toward the door.
“I think my marriage is over,” Amy blurts out. She looks at him, but when he turns around she looks away, cause she just knows he’s giving her that soft look with sad eyes and she knows it’d make her cry, and the last thing she wants is to cry. Over her stupid mess that’s only her own fault. Over her sad, tired life. No, she wouldn’t cry. “That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud.”
She’s met with silence, so she has to take a peek. She can barely read his expression, which is new. “Are you gonna say something, or…?”
He sighs as he approaches her. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, that’s a first,” Amy says. She lets out a laugh and it feels wobbly resting on the lump in her throat from the tears she’s holding back.
“If anybody can get through this, you can,” he says.
She doesn’t know where he’s going with this one, so she laughs again.
“Okay—“
“No, no, I’m not—I’m not just saying that, you’re…you’re tough, and persistent, and decisicive—”
“Mm. Kinda sounds like you’re calling me stubborn,” she retorts. It’s their usual bac and forth, but it’s gentler. They’re both hurt and raw. There’s no bite. Just being here with each other.
Jonah laughs. “Well, you are insanely stubborn…”
“Mhm. Yeah.”
“A little domineering.”
“Uh huh.”
“Caustic, maybe…”
“Caustic!”
“Yeah, when I catch you before coffee time?” She’s already laughing. It feels like she can breathe better now. “You’re downright hostile.”
“Yeah,” she says, smiling, “you’re not wrong.” He laughs in return.
“So just, like, in general, a pretty unpleasant person…”
“Yeah, pretty unpleasant, yeah,” he plays along.
“Okayyy, noted!” As their laughteer dies out the silence falls over the both of them like a curtain. Jonah’s the one to cut it.
“But you’re also the most honest person I’ve ever met.” His voice is lower, quieter, even sweeter. Amy looks at him. On another day, she might stop him here.
Not tonight.
“And you’re strong. And smart…and funny, and you’re confident and caring and you’re sexy, and—“
Oh.
“That—I didn’t—“
“No I—yeah,” she interrupts him, her accomodating instincts being self-serving too, for once. They go back and forth, Jonah blaming it on the drinks he’s had (even though she saw him anxiously not-sipping from the same glass all night), her saying “it’s fine” over and over, whatever “fine” even means anymore, but as fast as it happened, Amy decides it’s over. “I think that it’s time to cut the cake, so…I’m just gonna go inside. Thank you, thanks, yeah,” she rushes, standing from the bench and making her way to the entrance. She hears his voice calling out, telling her to wait. She wants to stop, so badly, but her legs still move. Just before the reaches for the door handle, she feels a hand on her shoulder. Barely there, but still enough.
“Do you mind if I, uh, say some things out loud, too?” he says, wringing his hands. It’s all Amy can do not to run away before she hears something she doesn’t want to hear, or even worse, something she does want to. “Please.”
She takes a deep breath before smoothing out the skirt of her dress. “Yeah, go for it.”
“I meant everything I said. About you. And I—this isn’t a come-on, okay, but the way Adam treats you…it drives me freaking crazy. You’re the most incredible woman, and of course, you’ll be more than fine on your own for a while—like, assuming that’s the…plan…but you’re gonna find someone almost as amazing as you, and he’s not gonna be a dumbass like Adam. He’s gonna know how lucky he is. I really, really mean it.” He clears his throat. “That’s, uh…that’s all.”
Amy’s chest is warm and tingly. “You’re pretty amazing too,” she says. “Thanks for all that…reassurance. A lot of the time it feels like I’m sort of stranded. I’ve got Emma, but being a mom takes a lot out of me, and being married, I’m supposed to have someone who cares for me, but—“
“Amy,” he says. His tone sounds like he’s begging her for something and giving her something at the same time. It’s warm. She melts a little bit.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I just…you have to know how much I care about you. We joke around so much it sometimes feels like all of this is a joke, but the truth is, I couldn’t be more serious if I tried. I—Jesus. I quit school and just drove here without a plan whatsoever, and the only thing I know is how special you are…” He pauses. It’s her turn to be speechless. “…To me. You have got to know that. Please know that. I don’t know why I do, but that doesn’t matter, all that matters is—“
“Jonah.” She cuts him off, not knowing what else to do, let alone how to respond, even though the truth is as simple as “me too.” His eyes are desparate, searching. She wonders what the hell he’s trying to find, looking at her. But they stand there anyway, silent, closer to each other than usual. Way closer.
Jonah mumbles something and looks away.
“Huh?”
“What?”
“What did you say?”
“What did I…? What do you mean, I didn’t say anything, what did you say?” he rushes, backtracking.
She gives him a look, and a look is all it takes. “Fine! Fine, it’s stupid, I’m warning you.” She just cocks her head down, demanding the answer. “I asked if I could kiss you.”
Oops.
“See, I told you how stupid—“
“Well, are you gonna ask me again?” Amy tosses her better judgement out the window. Judgement is what got her into a miserable, failing marriage. Maybe it’s overrated anyway. Jonah’s face breaks out into his beaming smile. She doesn’t remember the last time Adam smiled at her like that.
“Can I kiss you?” He’s almost giggling. Amy’s heart does a twirl. She doesn’t deserve this, not really. But that won’t stop her from enjoying it, for now.
“Mhm.”
He brings a hand up to her jaw and pulls her face closer, slow and gentle. And Jonah’s a good kisser. Which is more evidence that Amy doesn’t deserve him, or this, because he didn’t have to be. He could’ve been terrible, and it would’ve been beautiful all the same: someone choosing her, for once. But of course he was great. No one would expect anything less from Jonah, and especially not her, because it adds up. This is Jonah who’s sweet to her, who matches her sense of humor, who waits on her and sticks around and checks in, who’s smart and thoughtful and really, really considerate. This is Jonah, who cares. A lot.
So, as Emma would say, duh.
It’s decently long as far as first kisses go, but they have to break because they’re both smiling again, and as soon as Amy catches her breath she’s laughing again, too. She also can’t remember the last time Adam made her laugh: not laugh in nervousness or disbelief, but really laugh. She remembers she has to come home to her shared home with Adam and do some chores by herself and sleep alone. She wants to reach inside herself and rip out this joy and seal it away somewhere, for forever.
Jonah’s laughing too, but again, he gets serious pretty quickly. “I’m guessing it’s still honesty hour, so. I’ve never needed anything that badly.”
“You’re really dramatic, you know that?” But really, he took the words right out of her mouth.
“In my defense I—“ he starts, before getting interrupted by the door opening on Amy and sending her stumbing into Jonah, who stumbles back in turn and catches her. It’s Dina.
“What the hell are you doing standing in front of doorways, Rodriguez? You’re lucky it was just me at this cheap venue. If we were at work, you could’ve been plowed over by a dolley or something. Both of you come inside; the bride is giving a speech.” Dina abruptly reenters the room, and Amy catches the door before it slams.
“Hey,” Jonah says as he grabs her other hand. She freezes and turns around again. He gives her hand a squeee. She gives him a weak smile and squeezes back before letting go.
Amy doesn’t know if she’s ready to process everything that just happened. Having lived most of her life not ready for the things in front of her, the feeling of dread in her stomach as she walks in front of him is unwelcome but familiar as ever. This time, though, her head is light and spinning, and her chest is warm and glowing.
Life wasn’t gonna wait for her. It never did. But unlike life, Jonah was kind to her. Maybe he would.
They get up to the front of the ballroom. “Are you okay?” he asks her.
“Yeah,” she says. “I think so.”