Chapter 40 - Sadie
forty
Sadie
The wind is strong off the lake but the warmth from the sun dulls it, creating the perfect summer night.
Colson’s hand laced with mine, his thumb rubbing mine.
Tonight feels like it’s one I’ll remember for a long time.
Watching Colson listen as he learned of the connection with his mom and the speakeasy.
How she made an impact not only on the menu but the owner.
She left a piece of herself in Golden Harbor and that’s pretty special.
Thick clouds stretch across the sky—not stormy, but textured—like someone dragged a brush through wet paint.
Colson slows beside me, looking out over the lake. “Damn,” he says. “Wish it was a clear sky for you.”
I smile, squeezing his hand. “No, you don’t.”
He looks at me, confused. “I don’t?”
I shake my head. “It’s a myth that clear skies create the best sunset.
Pretty, sure—but flat. You need clouds for this part.
” I gesture toward the sky, where the colors are already deepening, oranges melting into pinks, streaks of purple beginning to show.
“The clouds catch the light. They give it somewhere to land.”
He watches quietly, like he’s trying to see it the way I do. “I didn’t know,” he admits. “So this is a good one?”
“This will be a great one,” I insist, bumping my shoulder into his.
We walk closer to the water until our shoes are abandoned somewhere behind us and the cool lake slips around our ankles. Small waves roll in, calm and gentle, the chilled water the perfect contrast.
We stand there for a while without talking, in a kind of silence that doesn’t feel empty. Me, Colson, the sound of the water, and a gorgeous sunset. It’s pretty perfect.
Then he quietly asks, “Is this summer better than last?”
The question lands right in my chest. I don’t answer right away even though my body wants to scream a resounding “yes!” I watch the sun dip lower, the sky catching fire in slow motion.
“At the start of it, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe a little afraid of reliving that rough season I remembered.” The honesty burns at my throat a little bit.
I can feel Colson watching me.
“I think I knew it was better before I let myself say it out loud,” I continue. “Like my body knew first. I started really laughing again. Sleeping. Wanting things. Seeing more joy in the small things.”
I glance over at him. He’s looking at me now, not the sunset.
“But to really answer your question, yes, I know it is,” I say quietly. “I can feel it right here.” I press my free hand to my chest. “And you’re… part of that.”
His expression shifts into something open, careful, real.
“But it’s not just you,” I add, because that matters. “It’s me coming back to myself. Little by little. Remembering who I was before everything fell apart.”
He nods, thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles, grounding me.
“I don’t feel lost,” I admit. “I haven’t felt that in a while.”
The sun slips beneath the horizon then, the colors stretching one last time before falling into dusk. The lake reflects it all, gold and violet rippling at our feet.
“I get it, I think. I came here because I didn’t know where else to go. But now? It feels like this was where I needed to be. I had no idea I’d be next door to a bunch of kids playing the sport that had such a hand in shaping me.”
His hand squeezes mine and then he pulls me in, so we’re facing each other. Colson leans his forehead against mine, close enough that I can feel his breath. His eyes are drinking this in.
“Had no idea I’d meet you.”
Colson takes a hand, tucking my hair behind my ear. Like he did the first day when that spark buzzed along my skin. This time, his hand lands at the nape of my neck and he pulls me close.
The world narrows. The lake rolls behind us, waves slipping in and out like they’re keeping time. My breath catches—not because he’s rushed, but because he isn’t.
When his lips finally meet mine, it’s light. A question more than a statement.
And I answer.
The kiss deepens, not fast or desperate but perfectly certain.
Like he’s memorizing me. Like he’s afraid the moment might disappear.
His hand stays steady at my neck, warm and protective, and my fingers curl into the front of his shirt, reminding myself this is real.
His lips taste me and I can’t get enough of him.
I feel it—the way everything keeps shifting and locking into place. Colson pulls back to rest his forehead against mine again, noses brushing, our breaths tangled.
“I love knowing you,” he murmurs.
I smile, heart racing, still tasting him. That is quite literally one of the dreamiest things anyone has ever said to me. The words, plus the way he looks at me? Unmatched.
Standing here, waves rolling in, summer wrapping around us, I realize something quietly, undeniably true.
I am falling in love with Colson Burke.