A sad smile plays at his lips, and his eyes appear almost haunted. “It took a while. A friend forced me to get my ass in gear and stop mopin’.”
A little laugh escapes me. “You just described what happened to me tonight.”
He turns, and this time, his smile isn’t laced with sadness, eyes clearer. “I reckon we might just be kindred spirits.”
I match his smile, and it doesn’t feel quite as brittle or as forced as it has these past few months. “I reckon you might be right.”
Text from Hollis
Magnolia
JUNIOR YEAR
DECEMBER
AUBURN UNIVERSITY
“Y’all are crazy!” I laugh, barely staying upright on my ice skates. Stephanie and her boyfriend skate by me so fast, I swear I feel a breeze.
Grant suggested a trip up to New York City since I’d never been, and we’d asked Stephanie and her boyfriend, Tommy, to join us. We’ve had a blast exploring the sights, and I’m thankful the weather has been far milder than usual this time of year.
Now, we’re skating in Central Park—or, rather, I’m attempting not to fall flat on my tush. Grant holds my hands, guiding me along the ice. It’s not as crowded, thankfully, since it’s nearing closing time, so my chances of knocking down other innocent skaters is far less.
He skates backward flawlessly, holding my hands with a bright smile on his face. I can’t help but match it with my own because good Lord, I love this man.
Sometimes, I think he singlehandedly brought me back to life.
He’s incredible, and not a day goes by when I have any doubt in my mind that I’m the only woman he has eyes for. His gaze never lingers on anyone else.
Grant comes from a family of commercial developers, and of course, my family loves him, simply because his family is well-to-do in their business. And even though he comes from wealth, he never acts like it. He’s always incredibly humble and sweet.
“Ready for a hot chocolate break?”
I grin up at him. “Absolutely.”
He guides us out of the rink, helping me step carefully off the ice and over to a bench. “I’ll be right back.”
I turn and watch Stephanie and Tommy skate hand in hand. She waves when she sees me watching, and I wave back. A moment later, Grant slides onto the bench beside me and hands me the steaming cup.
“Thank you.” I lean forward, placing a light kiss on his lips.
His smile is one I’ve come to know as mine. Strictly reserved for me. I take a small sip of hot chocolate and return my attention to the rink. Grant drapes his arm along the back of the bench, and I settle against him comfortably.
I let out a content sigh. “I’m havin’ the best time.” I turn to peer up at him. “Thank you.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners, his affection evident as he studies me for a beat. “You look happy.”
Caught off guard by his remark, I let out a surprised laugh. “Because I am.”
Grant’s expression turns tender. “I know.” He presses a kiss to my temple before we turn our attention to the rink. “It makes me happy knowin’ that,” he murmurs.
I know what he’s referring to. When we first met, I was drowning in pain. Little by little, day by day, the memories began to fade like the color and print on a dollar bill that’s been folded again and again, and handled countless times.
My hurt is still there, imbedded deeper now, like the minuscule fibers of the paper money, but Grant has helped me create new, happy memories to overshadow the pain.
That party was pivotal in my life because I met him. We talked through the night and found ourselves confessing what we’d never told another soul.
He spoke about his girlfriend, who was killed by a drunk driver days before they were due to start at Auburn. She was the girl he always expected he’d marry.
Though I never specifically mentioned Hollis’ name, I told Grant that I loved someone who left me even after I pleaded with him to stay. We spoke about how devastating the pain can be when someone leaves your life—regardless of the circumstances—whether it’s willingly or if they’re taken from you.
We formed a bond that night, one unlike any other I’ve had. Even Hollis. Grant has become one of my best friends, my “kindred spirit” as he says.
And, eventually, the man I found myself falling in love with.
“Where do you want to end up after this?”
His question draws me from my musings. “Well, it’s late, so maybe we can grab somethin’ small to eat at that—”
He chuckles softly. “No, I mean, after graduation.”
I consider it briefly before shrugging. “Honestly, it’s expected that I’ll put my name in the runnin’ for one of the local spots. Maybe city council.”
“Is that what you really want?”
“Yes.” No. But no one’s ever really asked me what I want to do with my life after graduation. It’s always been one huge unspoken expectation.
Can I see myself running for city council? Eventually working my way up the government’s hierarchy? Of course.
But I’d be lying if I said I was passionate about it. Not the way Grant’s passionate about following in his father’s footsteps and finding new opportunities for properties.
Grant takes a sip of his hot chocolate, his eyes trained on the rink. Even though his tone is casual, there’s a touch of something indecipherable in his expression. A nervousness, maybe?
“We’ve been edgin’ our way into the Eastern Shore, and there’s a lot of opportunity there. After I graduate in May, I could start overseein’ things…” He lets his words settle between us, the insinuation clear.
We could make a life together in Fairhope.
I falter because…well, because we’ve never really talked about the future. I mean, sure, we’ve done the joking around comments of, “When we’re married, maybe you’ll finally learn not to talk to me before coffee,” or “When we’re old and gray, you’d still better hold my hand.”
But that’s all I took them for—jokes.
He turns to me, blue eyes tender, a loving smile gracing his lips, and I realize I never once considered this. I’ve never considered a future with Grant.
I never let myself because a part of me has been holding on to the past.
To a man who’s all but completely detached himself from my life.
Now, as I sit here with the man who loves me, a man I know without a shadow of a doubt would love me forever, I let my mind play out what a life with Grant might look like.
It’s…nice. Comfortable. Safe.
I lean in and dust my lips to his. “Plannin’ to woo me, huh?” I tease.
His lips curve against mine. “I reckon I could use an old ball and chain.”
When my lips part on a half-laugh/half-protest, his hand cups my nape and his mouth captures mine in a kiss that has me melting.
A kiss that soothes most of the rough, battered edges of my heart. Most, but not all.
But it’s enough.
It has to be.
Text from Hollis
Hollis