Love in Slow Motion

56. Quinn

56 QUINN

I have to take two trains to get to the other side of Boston, where the address on the business card leads me. I find myself in the middle of a bustling corner of shops and restaurants, staring up at the bright gold Q that’s shimmering in the evening sun.

It’s not a restaurant. I remember the feel of Aeronaut like I was there yesterday. Everything was pristine and white and expensive. This is a bakery the size of a matchbox, painted red and gold, making it look sophisticated but approachable.

As I stand there, a woman and a teenage girl go inside, and the woman glances at me with a question in her eyes. Should I hold the door for you?

Even though I’m not ready, I punch forward and take the door, thanking her and then following her inside. And I’m glad they’re ahead of me because I need a moment to process this. A huge glass display case, with pastries and goods on the other side of it, silk flowers lining the walls, and several small tables, most of which are filled with people chatting and laughing or typing away at computers.

It looks exactly like I imagined when I told Reed all those months ago that he should open a small bakery instead of a high-end restaurant. Because I was remembering all those weekends that I went with my mother into town and we would buy little cakes and cheap coffee and thrift store clothes, and a part of me was excited about having just a small piece of that again.

And here, Reed has given it all back to me.

“Ma’am?”

I shake awake.

The girl behind the counter, who can’t be any older than me, is trying to get my attention. She smiles and speaks to me across the expanse of the bakery. “Can I help you?”

I step up to the display case, my eyes taking in all the colors of the desserts, even though I know that’s not what I’m here for.

“Would you like to try an orange bar?” The girl gestures at a tray that’s filled with tiny orange cubes on toothpicks sitting atop the display case.

“Um. No. Thanks. I’m actually looking for Reed Lynch.” Even as I say it, my eyes travel to the wall beside the case, a long yellow and pink wall that leads to a hallway behind the counter. There are certificates and awards, all beautifully framed. And in the center of it all is a picture of me. The same picture I found in his office at Aeronaut. It’s in a silver frame now, and I can’t take my eyes off it.

“He’s in the back. I’ll run and get him for you.” Before she goes, she reaches behind her. There’s a shelf there, holding a bunch of different boxes, and she picks one up and hands it to me over the case. Pink with a white ribbon around it.

“Oh, I don’t—” I start to say, but she interrupts me.

“You’re Quinn, right?” she asks, her eyes excited. When I nod, she says, “Reed told us all that if you ever showed up, you were supposed to get a batch of cookies for free.”

Before I can respond, she disappears, and I’m left standing in front of the case with the box in my hands. Like a zombie, I walk to an empty table and sit down, robotically opening the box and looking down into it at the chocolate chip cookies. They smell amazing, and they immediately blur behind a cloud of tears.

I’m just sitting there, staring at them, when I hear someone approach my table. I look up at Reed slowly. He still looks the same, his hair buzzed short and dark stubble along his jaw. He’s wearing an apron covered in flour over his jeans and t-shirt.

And I love him so much I’m queasy with it.

“Quinn,” he says, my name just a breath on his lips. I stand. Tears are pouring down my face now, and I can only imagine what I look like to all of these people trying to enjoy a slice of cake on a Saturday afternoon.

He comes over to the table, his eyes finding the box and then looking back at me while I try to find the right words to start this. But what are the right words when you ran out on someone six months ago, when the two of you are undeniably and eternally linked, when you said no, but now you’re ready to say yes?

“Is it too late?” Those are the words that finally come choking out of my mouth.

His mouth parts, his eyebrows curve in, his head begins to shake slowly. “Too late doesn’t exist with us, Quinn. What, you think that I just went off and fell in love with someone else? Moved on? That’s not possible. I’ve been living my life, waiting for the minute you would walk back into it. There is no such thing as too late. If it had taken you a hundred years to come back to me, I would have still been here, waiting.”

I cover my face with my hands, sobbing into my palms, and feel Reed move into my space. I can practically feel his indecision about whether or not to put his arms around me. All of the wants and unsures buzz around us like an electrical current.

I finally catch my breath and look up at him, aware that everyone in the bakery is watching us and that I’m making a fool of myself, but I don’t even care because I have all this fear inside me that has to come out, and it’s not waiting any longer. “What happens when you realize that the way you felt about me was just because you couldn’t have me?”

He finally touches me. His hands grasp my hands and then my elbows and then my shoulders. “Is that what you think? Quinn, I have never wanted anything in this life other than you. If I lost everything else, it wouldn’t mean a damn thing.”

“But what about?—”

“Stop.” He takes my face in his hands and forces me to look at him, those eyes that are the color of chocolate and the earth and everything that’s good. “I’ve spent five years wanting you, trying to get you out of my head, and I just keep coming back to you time and time again. That’s not going to change. I love you. Are you…are you here because you love me, too?”

I nod.

He tips my chin up, bends close to me. “Say it, Quinn.”

“I love you, Reed. I want to be with you. I want to be yours and only yours.”

He smiles. “You always were, skele-girl.” And right there in the middle of the bakery, he kisses me.