#chapter Thirty-Nine
The phone pinged, predictably, at two in the morning. The light from the screen woke her more than the sound, and Maura reached for it at once. Apparently Ian didn’t like the Luvfinder app any more than she did, because the message had come through on text.
I’m glad you said yes.
She dialed his number. “I am not skydiving with you.”
“Okay.” His low laughter sent a frisson tingling down her spine. His voice, oh, that voice. “We can scratch that. How are you?”
Maura started to cry.
She tried to hold it back, not wanting him to hear her. Not wanting to ruin their first conversation in so, so long. Still too proud to let him know how much she hurt.
Ian was silent for a moment. “How’s my girl?”
More tears boiled out of her, and she turned her face into the pillow to stifle them.
“I thought you’d say no,” Ian said after a few sniffle filled moments passed without her being able to speak. “I wouldn’t blame you, if you did. But I had to try.”
Maura got herself under control enough to speak. “I’m not going go kart racing, either.”
“Hot air balloon ride?”
“Is that really what you planned?” She grabbed for a tissue and wiped her face, settling into the covers.
Ian laughed again. “If that’s what you want. Is it?”
“I’ve never been in a hot air balloon.”
“I can make that work, if you want. Really.”
She laughed through the tears still leaking down her cheeks. “Isn’t it sort of cold for a balloon ride?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been on one either.” Ian paused, voice lowering. “You okay?”
Her voice betrayed her, cracking. “Fine. Great. Perfect. Never better.”
“Switch to video?”
“Ian…it’s two in the morning…I look terrible.”
“You never look terrible,” he told her.
Three minutes later, there he was. She searched his face in the tiny screen for any changes — it had been months, but it felt like an eternity since last she’d seen him. She rubbed her thumb over the screen, tracing line of his jaw and his brows, remembering the feeling of his skin.
“There’s my girl,” Ian said.
Maura lost it again.
“Hey, hey,” he said soothingly, and also infuriatingly amused. “Shh. No crying.”
She swiped at her face, then buried it again in the pillow to keep him from looking at her, even though it meant she wouldn’t be able to see him, either. Shoulders shaking, she tried to breath through this sudden combination of joy and grief. “Fucking emotions!”
Ian was silent while she got herself under control. Eyes still streaming, but at least with the ability to speak, she held the phone up in front of her face again. She wiped everything with a soggy tissue and cleared her throat to keep her voice steady, at tactic that didn’t really work.
“This is it, Ian.”
“What’s it?”
“This is the last time.” She’d probably said it before, or something like it, but Daniel’s parting words rang in her head. “If you fuck me over, so help me, God…”
“I’m not going to fuck you over.”
“I mean it. The last time. I don’t expect you to promise me happy ever after,” she said and went on before he could reply, “but goddammit, Ian, I surely expect you to fucking try.”
“Don’t you tell me not to go for that happy ever after. I’m aiming right for it.”
She laughed, despite herself, because he could always make her laugh. “Stop. I don’t want you to make promises you can’t keep. We don’t know what could happen. I don’t need that from you, I just want to know that you’re going to at least see what happens.”
“Hey, I asked you to go skydiving with me. If that’s not an indication of how serious I am about this…”
“Stop,” she whispered. “Ian. I meant it.”
“I’m going to try. I promise. Okay?”
She nodded. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
Silently they stared at each other. When he smiled, everything inside her melted. She smiled, too.
“There’s my girl,” Ian said again.
This time, she didn’t start to cry.