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You walked in from work to your empty living room, a deep sigh escaping you. God you missed him. He’d been gone less than twenty four hours and you missed him so much it hurt.
Marcus had stumbled into your life quite literally, tripping as he walked up the front steps of your townhouse to ask about the space for rent last year. He was new in town, having just transferred to the FBI’s DC office, and wanted to live close to his office, he said. You took to each other like peanut butter and jelly and he moved in that week. You couldn’t have asked for a better roommate-he was thoughtful and caring and boy, could the man cook!
“Jelly?” you asked one night after he’d been living there a month, the pair of you stretched out in the living room, nibbling on Chinese takeout while watching ‘Singing In the Rain’,
“Yeah PB?”
“Why aren’t you with someone? I mean, you’re an absolute catch. How has someone not snapped you up?”
You saw his face twist into a look you’d never seen and you instantly regretted saying anything. “ I’m so sorry Marcus. That was shitty of me. Just forget it.”
He patted your knee where it rested against yours, smiling sadly. “It’s okay PB. I just...I don’t enjoy talking about it.” You faced him, his rich brown eyes sad as he told his story; the broken marriage, over when his wife cheated with a coworker, the failed engagement, ended just hours after it began when she chose another man. It broke your heart and you laid your head on his shoulder as he finished his tale.
“I’m so sorry Marcus. I had no idea,” you said softly, his arm now draped around your shoulder. “You deserve so much better than that.”
He shrugged. “What about you, beautiful thing? Why are you sitting home with this broken old man?” You swatted his arm playfully.
“Nowhere I’d rather be,” you replied honestly. “I’ve just never met anyone that I felt like I...fit with, you know? Every person I’ve ever been with made me feel like I was too much or not enough.”
“What a pair we are!” he chuckled.
Now, he’s gone. He’d come home two weeks before and announced that he was being transferred to the New York City offices to head up a new task force. It was a great career move but you were crushed. You loved him; you’d realized it months before but hadn’t worked up the guts to say anything. So here you were, the vacuum of missed opportunity roaring in your ears. Maybe tea would help. You open the cabinet, reaching for the tin of favorite earl grey when you see the post-it note stuck to the front.
“PB, I miss our tea parties.” it says in Marcus’ familiar handwriting. You smile, of course he left you notes. Over the evening, you find three more notes-one in the fridge on the jelly jar: “Don’t miss me too much PB”, one stuck to the cover of your favorite movie: “I still can’t believe you enjoy this,” and one, inexplicably stuck to your Star Wars pj pants: “I always liked when you wore these-they made you happy.”
Longing, you open the door to his old room, furniture still in the same places, bed still meticulously made, but with a piece of yellow paper laying on one pillow. You pick it up and read: “P.S. I never told you but I was falling in love.” Your heart stops. Did he mean to leave this? You grab your phone and press the button to call him before you can change your mind.
“PB!” Marcus voice booms into your ear and you can’t help but smile. “How’s my best girl?”
“I’m good Jelly. Sounds like you’re enjoying New York.”
“It’s fast paced,” he says, and you can hear a rush of noise behind him. “What’s up with you?”
You hesitate.
“PB? You okay?”
“Did you mean it, Marcus?” you ask softly.
He sucks in a breath. “You found it faster than I thought you would. You must’ve missed me.” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“Of course I did. But did you mean it?”
“Yes.”
You pull in a shaky breath, your heart threatening to leap from your chest and rush to New York. “And are you still? Falling in love, I mean?”
“No.”
“No?” you ask, confused and crestfallen.
“No,” he says again, “I’m not falling because I am irrevocably and permanently in love with you. I just….I didn’t know how to tell you. And, honestly, I was terrified that it was too fast or that you didn’t feel the same or-”
“Marcus,” you cut him off. “You love me?”
“More than anything PB.”
“Thank God, cause I’ve been in love with you for months but I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way.” You both sit for a moment, quiet.
“PB?” he finally asks.
“Yes Jelly?”
“Will you come to New York? I really need to kiss you.”
You grin. “I’ll be on the first plane out.”