I lean against a post and listen.
“He was raised in a very interesting way by his parents. His mother, my daughter, was raised with the values my wife and I taught her. Things like family and community were important to us. But his father has a different set of standards. He values things like money and cars and stuff that you can see.
“He’s not a bad guy, per se. Just a bit . . . ostentatious,” Fred continues. “It’s just that a lot of what he values conflicts with the things Becky, my daughter, taught Holden. And then she passed away, and Holden was left as a teenager trying to decide who he was in the midst of all of this. I don’t think he’s ever really figured that out.”
“I know who he is,” I say quietly.
“Me too, Sophie Girl. And Holden will figure it out. It just takes boys longer than girls sometimes. We’re a little slower on the start.”
The first true smile since Holden left slips across my cheeks.
“Thanks, Fred.”
“Anytime. If you hear from that grandson of mine, tell him to call his old grandpa. I have a feeling he’ll call you way before he remembers to call me.”
“I will.”
“Take care of yourself,” he says.
“You too. Goodbye.”
“Bye now.”
I slip my phone in my pocket.
Fred’s words serve as a balm over the edges of my hurt. He didn’t have to call, but I’m glad he did.
And maybe he’s right, I think as I enter the house. Maybe Holden will sort his shit and miss us.
Miss me.
I pad quietly through the hallway and into the kitchen. I’m trying to figure out how to end my day—with wine that I don’t even really like, or with a bubble bath and a book, when I stop dead in my tracks.
A piece of paper sits on the table. A purple goo oozes from under it—a goo that looks an awful lot like grape jelly.
My throat burns as I inch closer to the table. My knees threaten to buckle beneath me as I reach the edge and see Holden’s handwriting on the white, lined paper.
Sugar,
I know you will be surprised to learn that I messed up. Turns out that I’m not perfect. Total shocker, right?
I left last night to go to the Sunshine State only to learn that the sun really shines here. I know this thing between us was built to get to an end point. But what if we are the end?
There’s no easy way to explain this. I guess I just had to know what would happen if I took the job. What I learned in my few hours in Florida is that I don’t want to be anywhere without you.
Is that crazy?
I want a chance to build something real between us. I want to see where this goes. We can take it at whatever speed you want—I’m moving back into the blue room as we speak. But if you’ll give it a try, I really think that this marriage of convenience can be a marriage for a lifetime.
Holden
P.S. Lock your damn doors!
My hand shakes as I set the jelly-stained paper back on the table. Blood pours through my veins so fast that I think I might pass out.
I try not to run to the stairs and do my best to take them only two at a time. I pass the yellow room, the green room, and the bedroom with ugly flower wallpaper that people seem to love. Finally, across from the bathroom, I get to the blue room.
The door is open, and if I didn’t already know he was in there, I’d know. I can feel his energy spilling out of it.
I get to the doorway and peer in. He’s on the floor doing sit-ups. He looks over and sees me and springs to his feet.
“Sit-ups?” I ask, lifting a brow. “Really?”
“Energy to burn.”
He eyes me carefully, as if he doesn’t know what to do with me. I don’t move, either, unsure what to say.
His chest rises and falls as he inhales a deep breath. “Did you get my note?”
I nod.
He waits a few seconds before chuckling. “Damn it, Sophie. Talk.”
And, just like that, my uncertainty vanishes.
It’s a weird feeling, really, because nothing is certain. He wants to try. That I know. But I don’t know if it will work or how it will work or what it really means at the end of the day.
But what I do know is that he’s here. He came back. For me. And even if he hadn’t, I would’ve been okay.
It’s that last fact that’s most important. That’s the reason taking this step doesn’t worry me. Because it took all this jostling—him leaving—for me to realize that I’m strong on my own. Knowing that, I can give him all of me instead of parts that need putting back together.
My lips tug toward the ceiling. “So if we’re going to try this, we need an addendum to our agreement.”
Relief washes across his face. His fingers twitch at his sides, but he stays put.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I lean against the doorframe and take in his handsome face. “I’m thinking that I’m still not doing your laundry.”
His smile is quick and wide. And I’m glad he doesn’t know that he could get whatever he wanted from me just by flashing it my way.
“Good. Because you do laundry how often? I’d like clean clothes weekly.”
I laugh. “And since I know you can make breakfast, I’m going to need you to flex those muscles routinely.”
I must be a sure thing, because he saunters my way. His smirk is back, the one that makes me want to shed my clothes without being asked.
“I’ll only agree to that on one condition.” He stops in front of me. Peering down, his eyes dark and hungry, he grins. “You have to let me flex certain other muscles whenever I want.”
“Maybe not whenever you want,” I say, trying to maintain some power. “But often.”
He lifts a brow. “Daily?”
His lips are swollen, the bottom sticking out as if he’s been biting it all morning. The silky strands of hair on his head are gorgeously messy, and the scent of his cologne hits my bloodstream like a shot of heroin.
I tilt my head toward his. “How about now?”
“I like the way you think, Mrs. McKenzie.”
His eyes catch mine before he sweeps me off my feet. My giggle pierces the air as he runs down the hallway and down the steps.
“Where are we going?” I shriek as he takes the corner toward my bedroom so sharp that the tips of my toes brush the doorframe.
He tosses me onto my mattress. The headboard slams against the wall just before he pounces on top of me.
Hovering above me, his face inches from mine, he grins.
His eyes are crystal clear. His face lined only by the smile. It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him.
And it’s the happiest I’ve ever felt too.
This is the way I’ve always pictured my life. Maybe even a little better. For the first time ever, each piece that belongs in my heart is snapped into place.
I wouldn’t give it up for the world.
I reach up and lace my fingers through his hair. “You aren’t going to dangle spit in my face, are you?”
He laughs. “Not what I had planned.”
“What do you have planned?”
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Buying you flowers. Holding your hand. Making you laugh all night so you’ll be sleepy the next day and think of me.”
I tug on his hair until he falls onto the mattress next to me. His arms cage me in like he thinks I might try to escape.