I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. I didn’t dare to dream this much. He has spent years thinking I betrayed him, and though I hoped he remembered all the promises we made to one another and hadn’t forgotten the powerful connection we shared, I’d been afraid to hope too much. Even with Tessa’s predictions and assurances. So much is resting on this. I’m not out of the woods yet, but as I look up at his smiling face and the love pouring from his eyes like liquid sunshine, I allow myself to let go of my fear and permit myself to fully hope.
To believe and trust in destiny.
To accept that this is our time.
50
KENDALL
“I can’t believe you’re sitting across from me, and I’m finally looking at your beautiful face again. It feels like we’ve been apart forever, yet it also seems like barely any time has passed,” Vander says after the waiter has taken our order and left. We are tucked into a corner table of one of Portland’s most expensive restaurants, and it’s very romantic. This place is renowned for its succulent food, delicious cocktails, and anonymity, and this is my first time here.
“I know what you mean. It seems that way to me too.” I agree as he slides his hand across the table and links our fingers. Warmth seeps into my skin from his touch, and a bone-deep contentment settles over me. This is everything I’ve been craving for years. Vander hasn’t missed an opportunity to touch me from the instant we reconnected at the gallery, and I get an inordinate thrill at how natural it feels to be together again. I thought it would be awkward, considering how we parted, but it’s been the complete opposite, and I find myself regularly pinching myself. “I still can’t believe you ditched your own exhibition.”
He shrugs, flashing me a boyish grin that takes me back in time. “What good is being my own boss if I can’t do what I want?” He tilts his head and smiles. “You’re more important.” He squeezes my hand. “I’ve been waiting a long time to see you again.”
“You knew I was coming,” I surmise, raising my wineglass to my lips. How else did he know to make this reservation in advance?
He nods. “West came to see me. He wanted to ensure I didn’t do anything to upset you.”
An automatic smile graces my lips hearing about my son’s thoughtful gesture. “He’s been very protective of me lately. It took him time to get over our betrayal. He didn’t speak to me that entire first year, and it took another couple more to get us back on track. He stopped speaking to Curtis completely after what he did.” Pain tightens my chest as I think back to those difficult first few years after I left Colorado. “His only contact was with Stella and Ridge.”
“That must’ve hurt you deeply.”
“It did, but that was the risk I took when I agreed to sneak around with you behind his back.”
“Neither of us could’ve predicted how it would turn out or that there were other forces working behind the scenes to destroy us.”
His words hint at things we haven’t discussed yet. I know we need to talk about the heavy stuff, but I want to enjoy being here with him before it all implodes. “I hope you get the chance to patch things up with West. He could use a good friend.”
“I was sorry to hear about the accident and how it derailed his plans.” Vander leans across the table. “I want to reconnect with him, but I don’t know if it’ll ever be the same.”
A veil of sadness shrouds me, and I hate it might be true. I have regrets in life, and one of them is ruining the friendship between my son and his best friend. “You won’t know unless you try. Things have been hard for him. He moved here after the wreck. He was so broken, physically and mentally. Seeing his dreams die overnight sucked the joy from his life. Hazel ditched him when he was at his lowest point, and I’ll never forgive her for that.” I gulp back a mouthful of my wine, and it feels bitter sliding down my throat. “At least it opened the door for us to fully reunite, and we gradually repaired our relationship that year.”
“I read an article about him six months ago, and it sounds like he’s made a good career for himself as a sports agent,” Vander says, unlinking our fingers when the waiter arrives with our appetizers. He sets plates down in front of us and leaves.
“He has, and he likes it, but I know he still struggles to accept the path his life has taken.” I cut a piece of scallop. “I’m very proud of him though. He fought hard to recover after the accident and to rebuild his life.” I pop the scallop in my mouth, blushing when I realize Vander is not eating and just staring at me.
“I’m still partial to that color on your cheeks,” he says, maintaining eye contact as he picks up his knife and fork. “I can’t stop looking at you. This feels surreal.”
“I know,” I say when I have finished chewing. “You look amazing, Vander, and I’m proud of you too. Look at everything you have achieved.”
We chat while we eat, keeping it casual. He tells me about college, his digital art, and his ambitious plans to expand his galleries so he can offer more aspiring and new artists a platform. I explain how June and I set up our JuKe Bakery business, expanding to five stores in Oregon, and now that Carly has come on board to help us set up a franchise business, we plan to open bakeries all over the US.
“I’m not surprised you ended up doing something like that. You were always far too good in the kitchen to waste those talents and smart too. I read about your success over the years, and it made me proud.”
“You were keeping tabs on me?”
He nods, reaching over the table to take my hand again. “I wanted to ensure you were doing okay.”
Tears pricks my eyes. All these years, I worried he’d forgotten me. Terrified he couldn’t get over my supposed betrayal, I feared he might hate me. I had no idea he was checking up on me like I was checking up on him. “I did the same,” I softly admit. “I’m so sorry about your mom. I wanted to go to the funeral. I wanted to be there for you so badly.”
“But you couldn’t. Because of my dad.”
My brows climb to my hairline. “You know?”
Lifting my hand, he raises it to his lips, brushing his mouth against my skin, sending fiery tremors skating across my knuckles and up my arm. His touch still does enchanting things to me. “I don’t know the details. I’m hoping you’ll finally tell me.” He sets our conjoined hands back down on the table. “I was so angry at first, and I couldn’t understand it. I knew the kind of person you were, and I struggled to accept you’d been playing me all along. I couldn’t believe everything we’d shared, the connection we both believed in, was a lie. I spent the time before Yale in Canada with Mom. It gave me the headspace I needed, and I realized it couldn’t be true.” He squeezes my hand, and his chest inflates as his face floods with emotion. “I woke one morning, and I just knew he’d blackmailed you in some way. That it wasn’t the way it looked.” His face floods with sincerity. “I’m sorry, Kendall. I’m sorry for believing the lie so easily. For not trusting in you. For not going with my gut when it was whispering it wasn’t true and that Dad was somehow involved. I let my hurt overrule common sense. If I had reacted differently, everything could have been different.”