Almost Love, Then Everything - Chapter 20: Chapter 20
You are reading Almost Love, Then Everything, Chapter 20: Chapter 20. Read more chapters of Almost Love, Then Everything.
("She didn’t ask with words.
She just looked at me—
and I knew exactly what she was asking.")
Rain again.
Not a storm this time. Just a soft drizzle that painted the city in gray and made everything feel quieter.
Leah had shown up at Jade’s apartment without warning.
No excuse. No lie about being “in the neighborhood.”
Just a knock on the door with a heart she wasn’t sure how to carry anymore.
Jade opened it in a hoodie and mismatched socks, hair still damp from a shower. She looked surprised. Not unhappy. Just unprepared.
Like maybe she’d been trying not to hope this would happen.
Leah stepped inside without a word.
And Jade let her.
They didn’t talk for the first few minutes. Leah wandered to the window, stared out at the glistening rooftops. Jade sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on her knees, waiting.
Then Leah finally said, “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Jade tilted her head. “Is something wrong?”
Leah shook her head. “No. That’s the thing. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s… okay.”
A pause.
Then, softer: “But I miss you even when I just saw you yesterday.”
Jade’s breath caught.
And Leah looked over her shoulder with the kind of raw honesty that makes people either run—or stay forever.
Jade didn’t run.
Later, they sat on the floor, their backs against the couch, a blanket shared between them. Leah's knees brushed Jade’s. Neither moved.
Leah was staring at the ceiling when she whispered, “Do you ever think we’re just… scared of the same thing?”
Jade turned toward her. “Which is?”
“Messing it up. Losing it before it even becomes real.”
Jade didn’t answer.
Instead, she reached forward—slowly—and tucked a strand of hair behind Leah’s ear.
And when Leah looked at her…
There it was.
The question.
Not said.
Not even mouthed.
Just there, glowing quietly in her eyes like a lantern in fog.
> “Can I kiss you now?”
Leah didn’t say yes.
But she didn’t have to.
She leaned in—
Half an inch,
Then another.
And then, just before they could close the distance, Jade stopped.
Whispered, “Are you sure?”
Leah nodded once.
But even then—
Even in the breath before—
They didn’t do it.
They didn’t kiss.
They just held each other’s gaze like it was the only thing anchoring them to the moment.
Because sometimes the build-up is too sacred to rush.
Because sometimes the answer to “Can I?”
is just “Wait a little longer.”
Love doesn’t always shout.
Sometimes, it just looks at you
like you’re the only question worth answering.
And waits.
Until you’re brave enough to say yes.
She just looked at me—
and I knew exactly what she was asking.")
Rain again.
Not a storm this time. Just a soft drizzle that painted the city in gray and made everything feel quieter.
Leah had shown up at Jade’s apartment without warning.
No excuse. No lie about being “in the neighborhood.”
Just a knock on the door with a heart she wasn’t sure how to carry anymore.
Jade opened it in a hoodie and mismatched socks, hair still damp from a shower. She looked surprised. Not unhappy. Just unprepared.
Like maybe she’d been trying not to hope this would happen.
Leah stepped inside without a word.
And Jade let her.
They didn’t talk for the first few minutes. Leah wandered to the window, stared out at the glistening rooftops. Jade sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on her knees, waiting.
Then Leah finally said, “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Jade tilted her head. “Is something wrong?”
Leah shook her head. “No. That’s the thing. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s… okay.”
A pause.
Then, softer: “But I miss you even when I just saw you yesterday.”
Jade’s breath caught.
And Leah looked over her shoulder with the kind of raw honesty that makes people either run—or stay forever.
Jade didn’t run.
Later, they sat on the floor, their backs against the couch, a blanket shared between them. Leah's knees brushed Jade’s. Neither moved.
Leah was staring at the ceiling when she whispered, “Do you ever think we’re just… scared of the same thing?”
Jade turned toward her. “Which is?”
“Messing it up. Losing it before it even becomes real.”
Jade didn’t answer.
Instead, she reached forward—slowly—and tucked a strand of hair behind Leah’s ear.
And when Leah looked at her…
There it was.
The question.
Not said.
Not even mouthed.
Just there, glowing quietly in her eyes like a lantern in fog.
> “Can I kiss you now?”
Leah didn’t say yes.
But she didn’t have to.
She leaned in—
Half an inch,
Then another.
And then, just before they could close the distance, Jade stopped.
Whispered, “Are you sure?”
Leah nodded once.
But even then—
Even in the breath before—
They didn’t do it.
They didn’t kiss.
They just held each other’s gaze like it was the only thing anchoring them to the moment.
Because sometimes the build-up is too sacred to rush.
Because sometimes the answer to “Can I?”
is just “Wait a little longer.”
Love doesn’t always shout.
Sometimes, it just looks at you
like you’re the only question worth answering.
And waits.
Until you’re brave enough to say yes.
End of Almost Love, Then Everything Chapter 20. Continue reading Chapter 21 or return to Almost Love, Then Everything book page.