Chapter Twenty
AUSTIN
Isabella continues to surprise and amaze me.
She’s completely taken charge of this moving situation, while I feel like I’m paralyzed.
I never would’ve guessed that packing up all my belongings could be enjoyable under these circumstances, but somehow Isabella is making it happen.
There are boxes everywhere, music playing in the background, and a notebook filled with detailed lists of things I need to get done.
She ordered salads and pizza for dinner, and she’s quickly moving from task to task like it’s effortless.
But I can tell she’s feeling the emotions too.
A few times I’ve caught her dabbing the corners of her eyes when she thinks I’m not looking.
I don’t call attention to it because I know this is hard on her too.
Moving is stressful, but at least we’re spending time together.
Meanwhile, all I really want to do is forget the boxes and everything that comes next. I want to sit on the couch with her in my arms and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist for a few hours. Unfortunately, there isn’t time for this.
We’re in the middle of packing a box of books when my phone buzzes on the kitchen counter.
I glance at the screen. It’s my brother Logan.
I answer. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Just checking in on you,” my brother says. “How’s it going?”
I look across the room at Isabella. She’s sitting in the chair with a box in front of her, carefully stacking books while quietly singing along to the music playing through the speakers.
“I’m surviving,” I admit. “Isabella’s here insisting on packing and basically doing all the work.”
“What?” Logan says. “Let me talk to her.”
I laugh. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“My brother wants to say hi,” I tell Isabella, holding the phone out to her.
She looks up, a bright smile spreading across her face as she takes it.
“Hello,” she says warmly. “It’s nice to meet you too, Logan. Austin talks about you all the time. Congrats on your engagement.”
She glances over at me, her smile growing even wider at whatever Logan is saying.
“Well, thank you,” she says, laughing softly.
A moment later she shakes her head. “No. I totally took charge and didn’t give him much of a choice. I tend to do that sometimes, and honestly there’s no point in him trying to argue.”
“I told you, Logan,” I call from across the room.
She waves me off and leans back in the chair like she plans on being there for a while.
I listen as their conversation continues, and they sound like old friends catching up after months of not talking.
This totally makes sense because that’s Isabella, she has this ability to draw people in without even trying. It happened to me.
It’s cool watching two of the most important people in my life connect.
Since Isabella is busy, I reluctantly pick up an empty box and begin filling it. Packing is still the last thing I want to be doing, but at least some progress is being made.
“Hi, Ivy,” Isabella says suddenly. “Oh, you’re so sweet. Thank you.”
Of course. Now Logan has passed the phone over to his fiancée.
Poor Isabella. Ivy can carry on a conversation longer than anyone I’ve ever met, and there’s no stopping her. I briefly consider rescuing Isabella, but judging by the smile on her face, she seems perfectly happy to continue chatting.
“Yes, the recovery is moving along,” Isabella says. “Not as quickly as I’d like, but that’s part of the process.”
She pauses to listen.
“Yes, I promise Austin’s helping,” she says, shooting me an amused look. “Well…he’s helping now. He’s packing a box as we speak.”
“Hey,” I protest. “I’ve been working all day—sort of.”
Her familiar laugh fills the room, and it instantly hits me just how much I’m going to miss seeing her every day. Even with the move feeling more real by the hour, I’ve been trying not to think about that part.
“It was great talking to both of you,” she says. “I’ll put Austin back on.”
I take the phone from her. “Hey. Are you done talking about me?”
“You need to marry her,” Ivy shouts without missing a beat.
Heat floods my face, and I quickly move to the kitchen, hoping Isabella didn’t hear that.
“Hello to you too, Ivy.”
“She’s so sweet, and she said we can go see Ballroom Dance America,” she exclaims. “You need to give me her number.”
I roll my eyes even though they can’t see me.
“She’s cool,” Logan adds. “So upbeat and funny. It’s a shame you’re leaving.”
Ha, he has no idea. “Yes, it is.”
“Did you invite her to the wedding yet?” Logan asks.
“No. I’ve been a little busy.”
“So you’re saying the trade, moving across the country, and your girlfriend are more important than your brother’s wedding? That hurts.”
I laugh. “Yep, sorry about that.”
“Well, you need to invite her, or I will,” Ivy demands.
“I’d listen to her if I were you,” Logan tells me. “She’s the bride. And the bride knows best.”
“You don’t need to do that. I’ll take care of it,” I say with a chuckle.
“Good. I can’t wait to meet her,” Ivy says. “Good job, Austin.”
Before I can think of a response to that, the doorbell rings.
“Dinner is served,” Isabella calls.
“I need to go. Our pizza is here.”
“You timed that perfectly,” Logan teases.
“You know it. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I quickly get off the phone and grab plates from the cabinet and get drinks from the fridge. Isabella brings the food into the kitchen, and the smell of melted cheese and garlic instantly reminds me how hungry I am. Between meetings and the packing, it’s been a very long day.
“Logan and Ivy are so nice,” Isabella says once we're seated at the table.
“They’re okay,” I reply with a shrug.
She laughs. “I get it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said the exact same thing about my brother. And speaking of him, he was complaining earlier about not being able to get Bears tickets anymore.”
I chuckle. “Just talk to Nick. He’ll take care of him.”
She grimaces. “Um, that’s kind of the problem. He can’t cheer for the Bears anymore—we’re Golden State Seals fans now.”
“I’d understand if he keeps supporting the Bears,” I assure her. “They’re his hometown team.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. But they traded you, so I’m not feeling very loyal to them anymore. Besides, this isn’t my hometown.”
A grin spreads across my face. “So you’re officially a Seals fan now?”
“Of course I am.” She nods without hesitation. “My favorite hockey player happens to be on their roster.”
Once again she always knows exactly what to say.
“Well, in that case,” I say, clearing my throat, “does that mean you’ll be coming to see one of our games soon?”
She forces a smile. “Maybe.”
“How about definitely?” I ask.
A laugh escapes her. “I guess if my favorite hockey player needs fan support, I should probably make the trip.”
“I definitely need fan support,” I tell her. “I’m heading to a new team in a new city. It might be lonely for a while.”
“Well, then I’d better start looking at flights.” She picks up her fork again. “My schedule is about to free up as soon as you step on that plane…”
The thought of seeing her sooner rather than later eases some of the heaviness that’s been weighing on me since the trade. For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then I notice her picking at her salad with her fork.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
She sighs softly, her gaze fixed on her plate. “I’m thinking about you and me.”
My stomach tightens. “And?”
“Honestly, I’m having a lot of doubts.”
Hmm…that’s not what I wanted to hear her say.
“Doubts about me?” I ask, unable to hide the worry in my voice.
Her eyes immediately move up to meet mine. “No. Not about you. About the distance and about whether we can do this. It’s going to be tough.”
I slide my chair closer to hers.
“Isabella, I understand if you think it’s too much. And I’d never want you to do something you don’t want.” I pause, trying to think of the right words to say. “But I’m not ready to let you go.”
She presses her lips together and nods as tears gather in her eyes again.
“I’m not ready to let you go either,” she whispers. “But I’m scared.”
The honesty in her voice cuts like I’m being stabbed in the stomach. I reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m terrified too,” I admit. “Everything in my life just changed overnight. But if you’re willing to try, then I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”
She closes her eyes, and my heart practically beats out of my chest as I wait. I don't want to pressure her into deciding about anything tonight, but every part of me hopes she'll tell me she's all in.
Before either of us can say more, I lean back and force a smile.
“You know,” I say, changing the subject, “we've both been working nonstop today. Let's finish dinner and then drive out to Marlow's for dessert.”
“We've been working nonstop?” she teases, laughing through her tears.
“Okay, fine. You've been working. I've mostly been in the way, confused about what to do. I’m very grateful for your list making skills.”
She laughs. “Thank you. And I’d love to go to Marlow’s.”
I lean forward and press a soft kiss to her lips.
The rest of dinner passes a little easier. She never gives me a definite answer about our future, and part of me wishes she would. But as I watch her smile across the table, I realize that's okay.
This is a lot to ask of anyone. Hopefully, she'll decide to take the leap with me because I know I’m ready for a future with her.