*Author's Note: I know that i have not written in a while but I hope that you like this story. I was reading this book for my AP class and we were assigned to write the missing 30 minutes in the story as Nick left the room. Hope you like/love it.

As Jay returned the room and leaned against the wall, I felt conscious of his presence. When I snuck a glance at him, I was brought back to those lovely days in Louisville where we would lay in each others arms, gaze at the falling leaves of autumn, laugh at each others jokes and clumsiness (mostly on my part), and sit inside my car while we murmured passionate "I love you's". I noticed he was trying to blend into the walls as if he was using the wallpaper as a cloak to cover himself up and hid from me.

"So how have you been? You know, after the war? I heard that battling was quite dreadful," I spoke to try to get Jay to talk to me, to break the ice, and soften the dense atmosphere that almost choked me up. He looked at me from the corner of his eye, causing me to shift nervously like the same teenaged girl five years.

"I'm fine I guess. I survived the war and became a Major, but all of that really does not matter. The only thing that mattered to me is-" he stopped and avoided my gaze, listening intently to the pitter patter of the raindrops on the roof.

"I just managed to live enough to see you again." I heard him murmur in a hushed and choked manner. His downcast face was avoiding my gaze, dreading that he even uttered that last sentence and hoping that I didn't hear it.

"You're married to another man," Jay changed the subject but I only stared in shock, "or so I've heard from Jordan." I felt a stab in my heart as his puppy dog eyes turned to me, pleading me to say that it was a lie.

"I wish it was, but no. I do have a husband and we have been since you left." I breathed as I looked to him, trying to lock on gazing at each other's eyes one more time. But I failed. So I continued, "His name is Tom Buchanan, my husband, and I feel- no, I know that he is cheating on me with another woman." I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes.

"I would never do that. Daisy," Jay finally lifted himself from leaning position against the wall to fully face towards me, "I still lov-"

I bounded from the couch to gingerly place one of my dainty fingers against his smooth, firm lips. I had to stop him from saying that phrase or else I would have gone mad with guilt and regret.

"Don't say it. I already know." Before I could cry, a hand caressed my shoulder tenderly, offering the comfort I longed to feel since I got married.

"When I came back back from overseas, I tried to look for you."

"I tried to wait for you, I-I know it might not seem like it but I re-really did." I said as a lone tear draped my right cheek in a watery curtain. Jay wiped it away with his thumb, pressing hard enough to reassure me that he was there for me. We stared in each other's eyes, finally getting the ability to talk to each other through our souls. Once again, I felt that pull that I had once felt when I was with him five years ago; the pull that can only be described as love.

He got up from the couch and trapped me with both of his arms on either side. Then he leaned in closer, bringing the scent of sandalwood and champagne closer.

"I love you." Jay whispered tenderly to me while his head reached the nape of my neck, gently kissing and nipping at it, unsure to mark me as his. Before he could have backed away, I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him back for another kiss. In enraptured joy, we continued to show our affection towards each other. I was elated to know that Jay still loved me, still cared for me, and still gives me his undying attention.

As we parted to breathe, I noticed that my cheeks were wet and was still pouring the clear jewels of joy from my blissful face. I looked to Jay and saw that he smiled at me with that brilliant glow I grew fond of five years ago.

"I love you too."

We backed away from each other, having our fingertips being the only thing that still connected to us physically. When we heard the clatter of doors opening and closing, we separated giving the appearance that none of this ever happened. But the effects were still there.

Gatsby's face was glowing vibrantly as my cheeks were still damp from the tears of joy. As we predicted, Nick came through the door.

"What took you so long, old sport?"