Chapter 46
forty-six
Sadie
I love the way Harbor Blooms feels. The space is open, pastel and crisp white walls are the perfect contrast for the bright and bold flowers lining the perimeter. Maren sells premade bouquets, does delivery, and allows shoppers to build their own bouquet or arrangement.
“I’m serious,” she insists, her eyes pinning me to my seat. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life than I was that winter.” She cuts a few stems of fresh daisies that were just delivered. For now, it’s just the two of us.
My stomach tightens. I know where she’s going. I wish I didn’t, but I do.
“That bad?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
She nods, eyes fixed on the display of lilies to our left. “You weren’t just sad, Sadie. You were… gone. Like someone had turned off your lights and forgot where the switch was. Nick stole something from you that wasn’t his to take.”
The words land heavy, bruising.
I stare down into my cup, my iced coffee melting.
It makes my stomach ache—physically ache—to hear her talk about that version of me.
The girl who slept until noon. Who forgot to eat.
Who answered every how are you? with fine because it was easier than explaining how I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled.
How I was basically a depressive pit of nothing.
“I didn’t know how to help,” Maren continues quietly. “You were so small. And you’ve never been small. You’re… you.” She looks at me then, eyes bright and fierce. “You’re a light. People notice when you dim.”
My throat tightens. I swallow hard.
“It didn’t feel like dimming,” I admit. “It felt like I disappeared.” Might be a bit more honest than I planned to share, but it’s true.
She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Exactly. That’s why him showing up is the fucking worst. What a loser.”
The bell above the door rings again.
Maren’s mouth twists as she glances up. “Speak of the devil,” she mutters. “Or the really annoying, painfully mediocre man.”
Nick steps inside Harbor Blooms like he doesn’t belong—to be fair, he really doesn’t. His shoulders are hunched, hands shoved into the pockets of a jacket that’s seen better days. His hair is longer than I remember. His face etched in exhaustion. He looks… wrecked.
I don’t feel relief or anger. It’s bone-tired exhaustion. Tired of him popping into my life when he isn’t invited.
His eyes land on me, and for a split second, something in his expression fractures. It makes me feel nothing. That’s really saying something, considering me a few years ago would’ve buckled. Not today.
Maren straightens immediately, protective instinct snapping into place. “No,” she announces flatly when he opens his mouth. “Absolutely not.”
“Only a few minutes,” Nick replies, voice low, pleading. “Sadie, please.”
My best friend takes a step in front of me, like she’s my professional body guard. Her arms cross and she looks around, and for once, is probably content that the shop is empty besides the three of us.
“You have a lot of nerve and I say that as disrespectfully as I can.” Her voice is level but dripping with quiet rage. “Go home.”
He looks around “I just want a few minutes,” Nick says, voice low, pleading. “Sadie, please.”
I should say no. I know that. Every instinct in my body is screaming for me to shut this down. But I see it—the way his hands shake. The way his eyes keep darting to the door like he’s already planning his escape.
Ultimately, my hope is that if I talk to him, he will leave. I can fall back into my normal self in the town I love. Not worried if Nick is going to ambush me at my next dinner.
“I’ll talk to him,” I say quietly.
Maren whips toward me. “Sadie—”
“Only a minute,” I repeat. “We’ll stay inside. You’re right here.” I’m not sure if I’m reassuring her or myself.
Nick exhales like he’s been holding his breath for longer than healthy.
We move just inside the shop, near the counter, where Maren can absolutely hear us pretending not to. The buzz of the floral coolers fills the silence between us.
Nick doesn’t say anything at first. He stands, staring at the floor like it might give him instructions. Each second that passes with nothing but silence makes me a little more annoyed. Like, let’s get on with it.
“Colson will be here in a few minutes,” I say finally. “So if you’ve got something to say, you might want to… say it.”
He flinches at Colson’s name, then nods.
“Last night wasn’t my finest moment. I didn’t mean for that to happen. It just did.”
I say nothing because there isn’t even an ounce of an apology there. My eyes are going wider with each second that passes and he isn’t saying the right thing.
“You didn’t mean for it to happen? Why does this feel like you’re calling off our wedding again?” I can’t help the snarky smile that tugs at my lips. I don’t know if he remembers but that’s exactly how he started the conversation years ago.
I didn’t mean for this to happen. Like it was a spell he was under, no free will to be found, instead of the harrowing truth that he treated me like a thing he didn’t need anymore.
He looks at his feet, rocking back and forth, and then starts with, “I’m sorry.
For last night. For more than that. I know I screwed up,” he says, words tumbling out too fast now.
“Calling off the wedding. Falling for someone I swore was just a friend. I—” He rubs a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I laugh on accident. It slips out before I can stop it. Not cruel but horribly honest.
“You don’t accidentally break someone, Nick.”
His shoulders sag as he looks out the window, like he’s trying to distract himself.
“You seem like things are good here,” he continues, voice cracking. “Happy. Moving on. And I can’t. I’m stuck. I can’t take the next step with her because I keep thinking—what if she does to me what I did to you? What if I ruined you? What if I broke something that can’t be fixed?”
I meet his eyes then. Really meet them.
“You did break me,” I say gently.
He winces like I’ve struck him.
“But not in a way I couldn’t come back from,” I continue. “You broke the version of me that was shrinking to fit you. The one who kept making herself quieter so you’d stay.”
His breathing is uneven now.
“I didn’t see it,” he whispers.
“I know,” I agree. “That was the problem. Especially because it was ridiculously intentional. You didn’t care what I wanted. You seriously molded me in the way that would’ve fit exactly what you wanted.”
I take a breath. This part matters.
“I’m glad you left me,” I admit. “Not in the moment. God, not then. Then, I drowned in tears like you had died. The thing you did was horrible and made me question everything about myself.” I rub my hands together, almost feeling for the place the engagement ring used to cut into my finger.
“But big picture? Looking at it now? Thank you for tossing me the way you did. I’m stronger.
Clearer. I know myself now. I know what I deserve.
And it isn’t someone who chooses me halfway. ”
He swallows hard, eyes glossy. This isn’t the Sadie he remembers—the one who softened every truth for his comfort.
“You’re different,” he admits.
And so is he. The Nick I used to miss was always so confident in his ways. He knew where he was going, how he’d get there–no questions asked. Now he feels like a walking question mark where just enough breath could sway him one way or the other.
“I’d fucking hope so.” I shift my weight, one hand on my hip.
He doesn’t know it but he gave me the best compliment. I am different, in a way that feels right. A sliver of me can recognize what it took for him to make this trip—the old Sadie would view this as effort when really it’s self-preservation.
I take a deep breath and continue, “There’s nothing I can help you with. You need to talk to her, but you already know that.” I step back slightly, creating space. “It’s not my job to help you through this, Nick. You already took enough from me.”
His head drops.
“But,” I add, because kindness is still mine to give, if I make that choice. “Just because you did that to me doesn’t mean someone else will do it to you. Some people are still good.”
He looks up, startled.
“That includes me,” I finish quietly. “I survived you.”
The bell above the door rings again.
I don’t turn around. I don’t need to. I know exactly who is walking in.
“Good luck. There’s still time for you to make better choices,” I say, stepping past him toward Maren. Toward Colson, who stands in the doorway, waiting for me. “Safe travels.”
Colson doesn’t flinch; he opens up an arm, pulls me in. His hand tugs at my shoulder and he kisses my temple, our eyes still on Nick.
Nick looks wildly uncomfortable, like he opened the wrong door and stumbled into someone else’s birthday party or something. He doesn’t fit here. He doesn’t fit with me.
When he realizes I’m not going to say anything else, and Maren is even acting like he doesn’t exist, he walks up to Colson. I hold my breath.
He looks at Colson like it’s painful and offers, “I’m sorry for last night.” His words feel genuine but they’re also unwanted. “Do better than I did…” Words trail as Nick has his hands on the door, ready to push it open.
Colson doesn’t skip a beat when he replies, “That won’t be hard.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
And then he’s gone. Colson doesn’t say anything; instead, he puts his lips on mine, wrapping his arms around me and picking me up. Our kiss doesn’t break until he starts spinning us and I can’t help the laugh that pulls from my chest.
When Colson sets me down, his eyes are bright and his smile makes me beam back.
Quick, he kisses me again. He pulls back, my forehead to his, and he says, “There she is. Sunshine girl.”
I may have been light before, but being with Colson makes it feel like I’m made of the stars, sunshine, and sparks.