He called me a coward. At times, I thought perhaps he was right. It scared me to think of moving on, of having feelings for someone again.
Of falling in love and losing him. Experiencing that pain all over again. Knowing I would have to rebuild my life yet again without the person I loved beside me.
It was better to have walked away now.
I wasn’t ready.
Even if the look of pain on Jordan’s face still haunted me. The hurt in his voice.
I poured the water from the kettle into the cup, letting the tea steep and darken the water. I wrapped my hands around the mug and walked to the living room, switching on the gas fireplace. Outside, the sky was dark, the day foreboding.
I tried not to think of last weekend. Being in Jordan’s arms while the storm raged. Feeling safe and calm while he hummed and lulled me to sleep.
Today, I would have to tough it out on my own.
I set aside the tea, not really wanting it. I curled up on the sofa and slipped on some noise-canceling headphones. I would feel better after a nap—I was certain of it. With the low music playing in my head, my body slowly relaxed, and I drifted into sleep.
The sky was dreary and dull. I was lost, wandering in an area I was unfamiliar with. Cold, I pulled on my shawl, shocked to find the ends torn and frayed. I stumbled, gasping as I fell. A pair of strong arms caught me before I hit the pavement, keeping me from injury.
I turned and looked into the face of the man holding me. He smiled, his green eyes warm.
“All right, my darling?”
“Jordan. You’re here!”
“Where else would I be?”
“But I sent you away—you were furious with me.”
He shook his head. “I was waiting for you. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”
“I can’t—I told you I can’t.”
He stood, releasing me. “You can. You need to let him go. He’s waiting. We’re both waiting for you, Sandy.”
“What?”
He indicated behind me with the tilt of his chin. I turned and saw another man standing, watching us. I stepped forward. “Max?”
“Hello, my girl.”
“How is this possible?”
“Anything is possible in your dreams.”
“Is that what this is?”
“This is anything you want it to be.”
“I don’t know what to do, Max.”
He smiled sadly. “Yes, you do. You need to be the strong woman I know you are. Let me go and find your happiness again.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You can. It’s what I wanted. It’s what I always wanted for you. Our chapter is over, Sandy, but you have an entirely new book to write. Grab it. Write it. Live it.”
He began to fade. “I’ll always be there, Sandy. Just let me be where I belong. In the past.”
“Max—no—wait!”
“You don’t have to choose. You can love us both. Now, wake up, my girl. Wake up now and grab your happiness. Open the door, Sandy. Open the door!”
And he was gone.
I sat up, gasping. My headphones were on the floor, and outside, the thunder rolled. I heard the rain pelting against the glass, and I ran a shaky hand over my face.
My weird dream played like a movie in my head. It had been so real.
Max’s words echoed in my head. The gentle, loving look on Jordan’s face danced behind my eyes.
I thought of the other dreams I’d had with Max in them. I always felt, in some way, he was reaching out to me. Guiding me.
Was he guiding me to Jordan? Was that possible?
A noise caught my attention, and I stood. It sounded like the porch door shutting. I scrubbed my face and yawned. I was so tired, and the nap hadn’t helped. Slowly, I walked down the hall, assuming a delivery had been left for me. I peeked out the front door, but no one was there. As I suspected, there was a large box off to one side of the porch.
I pulled open the door and looked at the box. There was writing on the side, so I lifted it carefully, carrying it into the house. I read the note from Jordan, tears springing to my eyes. He had been here, no doubt while I was asleep, and brought me something.
I slid the gift from the box, my breath catching, and tears, hot and fast, ran from my eyes. My painting. He’d had a print of it framed for me.
Memories of a lovely weekend.
This painting represented more than a memory.
It was the start of something new and beautiful, and I had thrown it away.
Jordan was right.
I was a coward.
The slam of a car door outside made me lift my head. I hurried to the porch, opening the front door and looking outside. Jordan’s charcoal-gray sedan was just pulling away from the curb.
Without a thought, I was outside, running down the street, praying somehow Jordan would see me. I waved my arms, crying his name as loudly as I could, ignoring the cold rain and the thunder that crashed around me.
Suddenly, Jordan’s car stopped. He stepped outside, staring at me as I barreled toward him.
“Sandy,” he called, “What the—”
I crashed into him, flinging my arms around his neck. I sobbed so hard nothing I was trying to say came out right, but I felt his arms lift me from the ground, holding me close.
“Don’t let go,” I pleaded. “Don’t ever let me go.”
“Never,” he promised, holding tighter.
Jordan’s voice was low in my ear as he set me on my feet. I lifted my head, bewildered when I realized we were on my porch.
“What…”
Jordan shook his head. “You have no shoes on, Sandy. Go inside and change into dry clothes.”
I clutched at his hand, feeling frantic. He wasn’t going to forgive me. “Don’t…please. I’m sorry. Please…you said you’d listen!”
He shook his head, cupping my face between his strong hands. “I have to move my car, my darling. Then I’ll come right back, and we’ll talk. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
He looked past me with a chuckle. “If it’s still there. I left it running in the middle of the street.”
I pushed him. “Go. Quickly.”
He opened the porch door, frowning at the squeak. “I need to fix this for you.”
“No. That was the sound that woke me. It brought me out to the porch.”
“All right, then. It stays.”
He hurried down the steps, and despite his assurances, I went to the door and watched as he ran down the street, got in his car, and reversed back into a spot close to the house. He shut off the car and strode back, his steps determined and swift.
I backed up as he came inside.
“Sandy, you’re soaking wet and shivering. You need dry clothes.” He stroked my cheek. “I’m right here.”
“Okay.”
Inside, I headed to my room, yanking off the wet clothes and tossing them in the hamper. I pulled on a warm sweater and a pair of yoga pants, then dried my wet hair, pinning it up once I was done. I felt much warmer after I slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks.
I found Jordan in the kitchen, brewing a pot of tea. He eyed me tenderly, holding out his hand. “That’s better.”
I went to him, letting him draw me close, shutting my eyes as another wave of emotion flooded me. I felt safe with him here. No longer worried or upset, just safe.