Yeah, I was afraid of that.

I texted her instead, hoping she’d be curious enough to read it. Please, just come look out your window.

Two minutes passed, then three. After five minutes I was sure this wasn’t going to work. Then I saw her face peek over the windowsill. She stared down at the signs I’d pounded into the lawn; her eyes took in each one slowly. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have yelled. I take it all back. I’m a total jerk. I’m not worthy. (I swear I saw a tiny smile when her eyes focused on that one.) Please forgive me. I feel terrible. Finally her eyes reached me. My heart was pounding as I turned the last poster board around and held it up to her.

I Love You.

She stared at it for a long time.

Then the window opened. “I’m sorry,” I yelled before she could speak. “I didn’t know, but it shouldn’t have mattered. I should have supported you, no matter what. You always trusted me, and I didn’t trust you enough.” I held my sign up higher. “I mean it,” I yelled. “I won’t let you down again. I promise.”

Sera didn’t say anything for a long time, but finally her eyes lifted to meet mine. The gray sky chose that moment to start raining. Great. But I didn’t move as small splatters began to pepper my face. Then, without a word, she backed away and closed the window. I let the sign fall and watched as the rain made the colorfully markered words run in small trickles down the poster board. I looked around at my other signs. They looked equally pathetic.

It was a dumb idea anyway.

I had just started pulling up the soggy signs when I heard the door open. Sera stood in the doorway in a light green tank top. As long as I live I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sight. She’d obviously done some crying after I left and her face had been washed of all traces of makeup. Her hair was down and curled around her almost-bare shoulders.

She walked across the lawn in her bare feet and came to stand in front of me. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I—”

“Shhh.” She touched a soft finger to my lips. “I love you, too,” she said, standing on her toes to press her lips to mine.

I dropped the signs and held her to me. In that moment, nothing else mattered: not the rain, my wet clothes, and especially not Kimberlee. I didn’t care what had happened in Sera’s past; I loved her for who she was now. The person she’d chosen to be. I sighed as her body melded to mine, her curves soft against my chest.

“Come inside,” she whispered.

Somehow we managed to get up the stairs without breaking contact. We were both breathing hard when I shut her bedroom door. “You’re wet,” she said. Her eyes held mine, and she lifted the bottom of my T-shirt and pulled it upward. I raised my arms and let her peel the wet fabric from my skin. She ran her hands over my bare chest and down my arms. Then she took my hands and placed them at the base of her own shirt and raised her arms over her head.

My fingers gripped the soft cotton and hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure?” I whispered. She nodded, and there was no hesitation in her eyes. I slid the tank top over her head and pulled her to me, enjoying the warmth she radiated. She led me to her bed and kissed me as I kicked out of my shoes and heavy, wet jeans. My mind was aware only of the tangle of sheets around us and the feel of her in my arms, against my chest, her hands running through my hair and down my face.

I wanted this more than I could remember ever wanting anything in my life. But although I’d come prepared for everything a good apology could possibly need—I even had chocolates in my car as backup—I hadn’t come prepared for it to work quite this well. I looked down at Sera, her eyes wide, a smile crossing her face.

In that moment I think I understood my father more than I ever had before. I wanted to do what he’d done with my mom; throw caution to the wind for the girl I loved. I leaned down to kiss Sera again, clinging desperately to that momentary disregard for any and all consequences.

And for half a minute it almost worked. But I wouldn’t make her go through what my mother had. I couldn’t even chance it. “Sera?”

“Mmmm?” Her hands drifted lower and for a second I forgot what I’d been about to say.

“I can’t,” I gasped, and it felt like I was tearing my own arm off. “I didn’t bring . . . I don’t have—”

“Shhh.” Again those soft fingers touched my lips. “It’s okay.”

She turned from me to dig behind her bed and brought out a small wooden box. She opened it to reveal a colorful display of tiny packages that meant only one thing to me—permission. I understood at that moment that Kimberlee was right; Sera wasn’t the innocent I had imagined her to be.

And I realized I didn’t care.

I let everything else in the world float away.

I had to work at driving home within the speed limit. For some reason my mind kept wandering and every time it did, my foot sank to the floor. The third time I looked down to find myself twenty over the limit, I slammed on the brakes and pulled over. I had to calm down a little.

I looked up into the rearview mirror and was surprised by how flushed my face still was. And the more I studied it, the redder it got.

It was more than sex. I hadn’t lost Sera; I’d found a way to get her back. I was through letting this misguided fate idea run my life. Today I chose Sera, not Kimberlee. It didn’t matter that I was the only one who could see her; you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to change. What I could do was give Sera and me a decent chance at something we both wanted. Isn’t that what life is about?