43. Jo

Playlist: To Hell & Back | Maren Morris

“Hun,” I sob, completely breaking down at the sight of her.

She stares at me, eyes narrowing. “Why are you crying?”

I answer with another sob, lifting a shaking hand to my mouth. She’s here. Hunter’s here.

She closes the distance between us, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into her.

“I thought you’d given up,” I cry into her hair. “I thought I’d lost you again.”

“I’m never giving up, Giovanna. Never, ever.”

“I slept till one and then Josh and Nic had to kick me out because they said I was hiding again and then I went and quit and then I went to the apartment and found your note and then Kelsey was there and then I took the wrong train…”

She pulls away, blue eyes wide. “Wait, what ? You quit? Kelsey? Wrong train?”

“I was supposed to be here hours ago,” I bemoan. “But I got on the express train that doesn’t stop in Port Haven, so I got off in Stamford and then the next train was so damned delayed, and I asked Ren to give me a ride to the lighthouse…”

“Okay, that explains why you’re just getting here now. Please go back, though. What do you mean you quit?”

I inhale shakily. “Nic and Josh said some things…” I pause, looking over my shoulder. “Where are my parents?”

“They skedaddled when you came into the house. Why?”

“And they aren’t eavesdropping?” I ask loudly, earning some shuffling noises just outside the kitchen in return. I scoff and roll my eyes as Hunter giggles.

I turn back to her and take her hands in mine. “I quit. Josh was telling me how the hardest part of love is accepting that you’re deserving of love when you don’t feel like you are, and showing yourself love.

“I don’t know why…but that made everything so clear. I quit my job, honey. I quit because it made me miserable and kept me from being able to be fully loved by you.”

Hunter’s eyes search mine. “Oh my god, Jo,” she whispers. For a hot minute, I think she’s going to express her disapproval. But then her arms are around my neck and she’s pulling me down for a hug. “You fucking did it.”

After a few moments, she breaks the hug and takes a step back. "I did something too. Something to show you that I want you. That I’m one-hundred percent, all in with you. But first, what did you say about Kelsey?”

“She came to the apartment as I was leaving.”

Hunter pulls away, and she forces a smile. I want to melt. She’s so fucking cute when she’s fighting the urge to murder my ex.

“I refused to hear her out,” I continue, clasping her hand in mine. “Because what’s the point? She’s not a part of my future, nor my present. She had the audacity to claim she still loves me, and god, Hun. You’d have been so proud. I told her she didn't love me and left.”

Hunter bursts into tears, throwing herself into my arms as I pick her up off the ground. I hold her tight to me. “Now that I know what love’s supposed to be like, I know without a doubt that whatever Kelsey feels for me, it’s not love.”

She pulls away from me, cupping my face in her hands. “I do, you know. Love you. ” Her eyes shine with tears. Happy, grateful tears, I know, because they’re mirrored in mine.

“I do know. It’s kind of the only thing I know for certain right now. I have no idea what comes next…but I know whatever it is, it’s with you.”

She nods frantically, pressing her lips to mine. It’s barely been a day, and I’ve missed her so damn much.

“How do you feel about talking about what comes next?” Hunter asks after breaking the kiss. “I have something to show you. You quit your job to show me you believe in us, and I spent the night on my computer doing the same.”

I lower her to the floor and she reaches into her bag, pulling out a file folder. She places it on the counter and opens it. The first thing I see are at least a dozen pictures. My breath catches in my throat as I lift them.

“Are these…”

“From that summer? Yeah.” Hunter wraps her arm around my waist and rests her head against my shoulder. “I’ve kept them in a box under my bed, but I don’t want to hide them anymore.”

It’s hard to breathe as I flip through the selfies of fifteen-year-old Hunter and I, pictures of us on the beach, drunk and young and laughing. The picture I took of her outside the tattoo studio and selfies of us kissing. Then there are the solo pictures of me. Me on the beach, feet in the water and insulin pump clipped to my bathing suit. Me in bed asleep, close enough that you can see the individual hairs of my lashes. Me from behind, watching the sunset. A selfie of Hunter with her head in my lap.

“You’re the reason I fell in love with capturing the world. Capturing love. Joy.” Hunter’s voice sounds far away. “You were my first subject.”

“You’ve always seen the potential in me.” My voice is shaky, disbelieving.

“No.” She turns and presses her lips to my shoulder. “I’ve always just seen you as you are. I never saw you for what you could be, and thank god for that, because you were the best surprise ever.”

I place the pictures on the island, my vision blurring as I read the heading of a document in the file folder.

Giovanna & Hunter’s Port Haven Event Coordinating Business Plan by Hunter Lillian Cleary.

“What’s this?” I manage to croak out.

“Is the heading unclear?” She leans over and scans it. “Oh. It’s a bit rambly. I titled it at like seven this morning.”

“You can’t be serious.” I flip through the papers, flip through budgets, rental properties, predictions, and graphs. I point to a figure on the paper. “I won’t have that money anymore. Not since the wedding was canceled. Also, I no longer have an income.”

“That figure is what you and I are making from Kelsey and Becky combined. If we join forces, we could do it. We’d have to find a few investors, but we’d be able to foot most of it. You could open your own business.” She squeezes my hand.

I stare in shock at the paper, not quite believing what I see, what I hear. “Hunter, no. I can’t let you do this.”

“Shut up, Giovanna. I want to do this. It was fun getting to use my degree for the first time in years. You have the vision and experience, and I have the business savvy. We could do this. We might have to live in a shoebox for a while, but…” she looks up at me, eyes so hopeful. “I can still take pictures, and you’re home for me. Your happy is my happy. Your dream is my dream. And our dream is possible.”

I cry again and goddammit, when will I stop? “It’s risky,” I whisper as she pulls me into her arms again. “Most businesses fail…”

“You think I don’t know the statistics? I have a business degree from Yale, Giovanna. Yale . I know the statistics, and you know what? I still think it’s worth the risk. We’re worth the risk. I want to jump off the ledge with you, ride the mechanical bull with you, steal bottles of tequila with you.

“I love you, Giovanna Quinn. I loved you when I was fifteen, but that love was nothing compared to the love that’s grown in the most unlikely of conditions. And still, our love has a lot more growing to do.”

“I love you, Hunter Cleary,” I whisper. I’ll never get sick of telling her. “I love your hope and optimism and your brain. I love how you believe in me, and make me want to believe in me, too. I love that you look at the world not with fear, but with determination. I love how you waited for me to be ready to be loved, to return your love. I’m ready now.”

Her eyes sparkle, and she presses her lips to mine for a moment before speaking. “Then let’s fucking jump, baby.”