Chapter 13 #2
My fingers trembled against the paper plate in my lap, the simple touch suddenly too much to process.
The remains of our impromptu hurricane picnic blurred as tears threatened, the colorful array of fruits and sandwiches becoming an impressionist painting through the lens of my unshed emotion.
Because I still loved him. God help me, I'd never stopped.
I'd buried it deep, tried to forget, tried to move on with my life and my career and my plans for the future.
But seeing him again ripped open all those wounds I'd done my best to stitch closed with time and distance and sheer force of will.
But love wasn't always enough. I'd learned that lesson the hard way through watching too many relationships crumble despite the best intentions.
Sometimes, timing was everything. And our timing had been spectacularly wrong before—two people pulled in different directions by duty and dreams and the assumption that love alone could bridge any gap.
The question was whether it was right now.
He shifted beside me, drawing in a breath that told me he wasn't finished. That there was more he needed to say, more cards to lay on the table.
"I want another chance, Gabi. I know I don't deserve one after what I put you through.
I know it's gonna take a long time to earn back your trust, to prove that I've changed and won't do the same thing again.
That I won't take you for granted or make decisions about our future without you ever again.
" His voice dropped, becoming rougher with emotion.
"But despite all that—despite knowing the odds are stacked against me—I'm here.
Ready to do whatever it takes to earn my way back into your good graces, however long it takes. "
I'd spent so much of the past few months trying to put Daniel LaRue out of my mind.
To focus on my own plans for the future, on building my practice at the clinic and reconnecting with my family and the island community that had always held my heart.
But a piece of me had still been in New Orleans, mourning the personal future I'd been forced to give up when he'd chosen his career over us.
Suddenly, that future was no longer out of reach.
He was here, solid and real and claiming to love me.
A man willing and ready to do the hard work of rebuilding what we'd lost, with no guarantee of success.
That was a heady offer, the kind that made my romantic heart want to leap without looking.
But leaping without looking was how I got into this mess in the first place, and I was nothing if not a woman who learned from her mistakes.
Was there room for him in my life here? In the carefully constructed plans I'd made for my future on Hatterwick?
For all that I'd been very transparent with him about my intention to return home and join the clinic, we'd never discussed a future where he came with me.
In a sense, I'd assumed as much as he had about our relationship.
But my assumption was that we were on the same page, that he'd want to follow me here when the time came.
That we'd make the decision together, as partners should.
I wanted to believe I'd have discussed it with him before making firm plans, would have included him in the conversation about our shared future.
That was the difference between us, wasn't it?
I believed in talking things through, in careful planning and mutual decisions.
Maybe that's why his unilateral choice to take the Seattle position had hurt so much, even though I'd already been planning my return to Hatterwick.
The irony wasn't lost on me—we'd both made assumptions, but mine had been about inclusion while his had been about independence.
But even with his transfer to Nag's Head, the logistics were still complicated.
Two hours north by boat on a good day, longer when the weather was rough.
While that was a damned sight closer than Seattle, it still wasn't exactly commuting distance.
Unless he'd been hiding some secret billionaire status and had a helicopter at his disposal, his job still wasn't compatible with living here full time.
He couldn't live on Hatterwick any more than I could or would move to the mainland permanently.
Which left us where, exactly? Even accounting for good weather and the fastest ferry service available, the math didn't work in our favor.
A four-hour round trip commute would be brutal for anyone, let alone someone in the military who needed to be alert and ready for emergencies at a moment's notice.
Daniel's dedication to his Coast Guard duties had always been one of the things I admired about him, but even he didn’t have the power to bend the laws of geography and time to make this work.
I realized I'd let the silence stretch too long when he rubbed the back of his neck, another familiar gesture that tugged at my heart.
"I'm realizing now I made another grave miscalculation.
" His voice carried a rueful note that made me look up at him.
"Because you've had every opportunity and right to move on with somebody else.
And I've gone and changed my world again without consulting you first." One corner of his mouth quirked in a wry smile that I wanted to taste, wanted to kiss away along with all the hurt between us.
"It felt like an appropriately grand gesture at the time. Sorry 'bout that."
It was a grand gesture. The kind that made my chest tight with emotion and possibility.
I'd learned long ago that talk was cheap—anyone could make promises when their back was against the wall.
But a person's actions told you where they really stood, what they were willing to sacrifice for love.
He claimed to love me, and he'd moved heaven and earth to get here to tell me, to prove it with more than just words.
That meant something. It meant everything.
Come on, girl. You miss him, and you love him, too. Are you really going to let a little thing like logistics get in the way of this?