CHAPTER 50
Tally
My head hurts, and I’m starving. Those are the first two thoughts that enter my brain when I wake up.
Though I barely slept in the first place.
Between the spring from this pull-out bed that kept jabbing me all night and the endless loop of worst-case scenarios I continued to run through in my mind, I hardly slept a wink.
We are supposed to start out for Connecticut this morning.
Leaving last night seemed like a bad idea, especially once we pulled out the wine and some old LEGO sets my sister had stored here for Dad.
We spent hours laughing and crying together as we reminisced on old family memories and discussed our hopes and dreams for the future.
Penny told me things I never knew about her relationship with Dick, and as much as I thought I’d be able to commiserate and talk bad about Walker, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was too hard trying to come up with anything bad about that man other than the fact that he broke my heart.
I let out a long breath and my stomach rumbles again. Okay, I really need to feed myself.
The bed creaks, and I remember the text I sent last night. Not the one in response to Walker’s many texts but the one to Rochelle.
Despite everything, I know sending that message was the right decision and already it feels as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I throw off the sheet and pad softly over to the kitchen, trying not to wake my sister, who is sleeping soundly in her bedroom.
Her pantry is pathetically barren, and I know it’s because she lives on coffee and treats downstairs in the shop.
Dammit. A glance at the clock tells me it’s only 5:53 a.m., which means that nothing is open in town, either.
Just as I’m giving up, my stomach offering another hungry growl, I spot the plate of cupcakes covered in plastic wrap on her counter.
Yay for small wins!
She stole those the other night after helping me make several dozen for the farmers market tomorrow. I grab the one with the most frosting and take an enormous bite.
As the sugar and cinnamon hit my tongue, it unlocks a treasure trove of memories.
This is so much more than a cupcake. It’s the late nights in the kitchen, getting to know each other.
It’s words of I can’t and then moans of how good everything feels.
It’s frosting spread across my body and a hot tongue licking it up.
It’s Sunday mornings at the farmers market and whispered dreams while slow dancing.
It’s falling in love with a grumpy man who smiles so wide his dimple pops.
It’s an entire spring’s worth of memories: messy and beautiful, a little rain with a lot of sun.
Oh my God, what am I doing? Walker believed in me when no one else did. And I didn’t even give him the opportunity to explain. I didn’t believe in him.
Without thinking, I grab my sneakers and rush down the back steps of my sister’s apartment. Fortunately, I slept in my normal spandex, so after tying my shoes, I head out onto the quiet street.
The glow from the street lamps guides me through my sleepy town and past the dark storefronts. The waterfront is still and the world is silent as a I rush past, the calm broken only by the gentle lapping of a few boats in the harbor and the squawks of one lone gull.
My chest burns by the time I hit the crushed gravel that leads to the farm. A farm I thought I loved more than anything, though recently I’ve come to realize that it’s the people in this town who mean more to me. And most importantly, the ones who live here: my mom and Walker, my soulmate.
When I finally make it halfway down the driveway, the sun is casting a gentle glow across the meadow in a greeting that feels like a beckoning, a reminder that this is where I belong. I gulp down the New England air as the shape of the man who’s taken hold of my heart comes into view.
I don’t slow. I rush to him, begging that he’ll have answers to the questions turning in my mind. But mostly I hope that somehow, someway, after we speak, this will still feel like home.