Chapter 45
forty-five
Colson
I wake up before the sun, the house still and quiet. Sadie’s curled on her side beside me, hair fanned across the pillow, breathing slow and even.
I ease out of bed carefully, like the floor might betray me if I move too fast. I grab a pen from the bedside drawer and tear a corner from a page in an old notebook.
Went to the bakery. Back soon. — C
I slip it onto the bed where she’ll see it if she wakes up, right by her hand.
The drive to the bakery is short, but my mind won’t shut up. It keeps replaying last night on a loop—Nick showing up like that, uninvited and aggressive. What a dick.
The anger flares again, hot and familiar, but it’s different now. Sharper. I end up gripping the steering wheel harder than I need to. I can’t help but think about how small she looked at the end of the night. With people in her corner, she still was a shell of herself.
I keep thinking about the way Sadie froze when she saw him. The way her shoulders pulled in, like she was bracing for something. It really surprised me.
Because Sadie doesn’t dim rooms—she changes them.
I think about the little things. The way her whole face lights up when someone recognizes her out in public.
How she always stops to talk, even when she’s in a hurry.
The way she plays with her hair when she’s listening, really listening, like nothing else exists.
The way her smile is honest and grounding.
She makes people feel important.
By the time I get back to the house, my hands are full—two lattes balanced carefully along with a bag warm with pastries. I push the door open with my shoulder.
Sadie’s up, sitting at the counter, hair messy and wearing one of my T-shirts like it belongs to her. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
She looks up and hits me with that smile I was thinking about in the car. It hits me square in the chest. Like something gears into place, another click I didn’t know I was waiting for.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she muses, standing, already reaching for the bag.
“I wanted to,” I insist, and realize how true it is. How I want to do everything for her.
She looks genuinely thankful, like I’ve given her more than coffee and sugar.
“I’m the one who should be thanking you—”
“Stop,” I interrupt, dipping down and kissing her mouth.
If she’s kissing me, she can’t be telling me how sorry she is or how she’s grateful I stepped in. We went through this last night and I thought I made myself clear. She has nothing to apologize or thank me for. There was no other way.
Each time she tries to talk, I kiss her harder, until she’s in a fit of quiet laughter.
“Fine, fine. I’ll drink the coffee and eat the treats.” She lifts her arms in fake surrender.
A few seconds later, her eyes light up. “Oh! I almost forgot. Today is Harbor Blooms day!”
That’s right. Another thing on Mom’s list. My chest tightens, but it’s the good kind—with purpose, not grief.
“Did your mom like flowers? I mean, all moms like flowers, but I feel like this has to mean something.” Sadie points to the list on the fridge.
“Yeah, she did. We made friends with a few shop owners, and they’d sell her the leftover loose flowers for cheap when I was a kid.
” A smile creeps onto my lips thinking back to those days.
“She’d come in and be glowing. She was always so excited.
Sometimes it was a bunch of greenery and like three flowers, but they always made her happy. ”
Sadie puts a hand to her chest. “That’s such a lovely story. Ugh, we’re going to have so much fun today.”
It’s not the first time I thought it, and Sadie has even said it before, but my mom would’ve adored her. Her and Sadie would’ve been something together. It’s a bittersweet feeling, because I’d love to see them meet, but I know how happy she’d be that I found someone like her. A love like this.
Love.
The word slipped right into my thoughts; it makes my gulp past the tightness in my throat.
I wish I could say it was surprising, but it’s absolutely not.
Last night cemented it; if there’s one good thing about that asshole showing up uninvited, it’s that he proved she’s mine to take care of. Mine to keep happy.
I have no idea where life will take us after this, my NBA career a question mark, but I’ll do anything I can to keep her.
“Colson,” Sadie says, waving her hand trying to get my attention. “Where’d you go?”
I let out a little laugh and answer honestly. “Just daydreaming.”
Of her and me.