Chapter 33 #2
I turn to face him, wishing I had a quippy response. But the thing is, he’s made no promises. He never did. Not to me.
He swallows.
The silence between us grows thick with the weight of our fight, of everything that led to it. Of impossibility.
I clear my throat. “I know you said you wanted to expand into contractor work, but you really could probably put together a whole business just in restoring antique properties like this one. I don’t know.
Maybe it’ll become a retirement hobby.” I know I’m babbling, trying to somehow bridge the huge gap between us.
He lets out a sigh, forms a half grin. “I actually think in retirement I might like to finally turn my attention to beekeeping. They’re endangered, you know.”
“You’d face your fears just to protect the bees?”
He swallows again and looks at me, a flush taking over his face. “I feel like it’s time I start facing my fears.”
I swallow too. “Is that right?”
“Nikki, I’m so sorry I was such a dick the other night.
I had just learned about your mom being sick, and it brought up all these old emotions about my own mother.
And then, with the LovedBy thing… I was upset and hurt and blindsided and…
and that’s no excuse. I had no right to be.
I had no right to care as much as I did.
It’s your life, and you should do what makes you happy.
If that’s finding love on A Shore Thing, then who I am to stop you? ”
“I’m actually not going on the show after all.”
“You’re not? But—”
“I called my producer back. I told her I need to take some time for myself. Figure a few things out. I also—I don’t think I’m going back to LA.
I mean, I’ll go back to get my things out of storage, but…
even before Mom’s news, I—I realized how much I missed this place.
Missed this life. It’s like I’ve been headed in the wrong direction for so long, I couldn’t see a way back to what was right in front of me. ”
He’s looking at me, a mix of emotions dancing across his face.
“Okay. Wow. Well, that’s great. I mean, it sounds like you’re really considering what you need, not what others want or expect.
I mean, you can do what others want or expect, too, it’s none of my business…
” He drags a hand down his face. “I’m just saying, yeah.
I don’t know. This isn’t coming out right.
But I’m, wow, I’m happy for you, Nik. I—” His voice catches in his throat.
“You’re such an amazing, accomplished, fucking drop-dead gorgeous human being, inside and out, and you deserve the Happily Ever After you want, and you’ll get it, and it’ll kill me to see how happy you are with whoever that guy is, but I’ll try not to let it show too much. ”
I feel myself blushing from my neck to forehead, even as surprise and hope start to twist together in my gut. “Let’s not be dramatic. It won’t kill you.”
I expect him to laugh, shrug it off, walk it back, but instead, his face goes dead serious. “Honestly, it’ll come close. It sucks to meet someone like you and to know that I can’t—I can’t…”
“You can’t want?” I ask, my voice so quiet, I can hardly hear it myself.
“That I can’t have you.”
“But why?” I blurt out. As soon as I do, I wish I hadn’t. The demand, the disappointment, is so raw and obvious, you could probably tell from across the lake how desperately into this man I am.
“What do you mean? You know why.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Because I’m a simple Alabama guy who spends his weekends fishing, who hangs out in unstylish dad clothes, who has never had omakase and still isn’t sure that’s how it’s even pronounced.
Oh, and I really can’t fix a damn car to save my life.
Or yours. And I obviously never properly healed from a relationship that ended a long time ago now, and—”
“Nate! Nate. I need to stop you there.” Because I’m smiling, and I’m sad, and I’m confused all at the same time.
“If we never get a chance to talk about this again, I want to be sure I make something very clear. All those things you just listed—those things are what make you so… you. The same guy who beautifully and lovingly restored this gazebo we’re standing in, which is such an important part of my family’s past, of my past. Who’s so great with my niece and nephew, and such a protective and kind brother and son, and such a hard worker, and so easy to be around, and so funny, and so, yes, weirdly sexy in those fisherman shirts.
” Nate cracks a bashful grin at this, and I try not to let myself be distracted by that crooked incisor.
“All those things are the reasons why…” I say, fumbling for the words.
“All the reasons…” he asks, his brow wrinkled.
“All the reasons why I know what I want. And what I want is to be loved by someone exactly like you.”
His face has gone from shocked to blushing to beaming. “Wait, really?” Then he swivels around, squinting into the setting sun, as if searching the crowd.
“What are you doing?”
“Just checking to see if there’s anyone else in the vicinity who meets those criteria.”
I laugh. “Pretty sure that list is unique to you. Which means I’m pretty doomed. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you could possibly, um, I don’t know, change your mind.
About what you want. And maybe, I don’t know, consider giving a chance to a girl who cannot handle unrehearsed karaoke and is weirdly obsessed with the level of matchiness in a floral bouquet and sometimes has a vindictive streak that can be dangerous while on a boat… ”
He shakes his head. “I don’t plan to change my mind about what I want,” he says.
And my heart sinks. I try to look away, like I’m squinting into the distance and not bracing for the impact of his rejection.
But then he laughs quietly—a sweet, sighing laugh.
He takes my hands. “Nikki, I already know what I want too. I’ve known it for a while; I’ve just been terrified that I’m not good enough for you, and that you’ll break my heart, and I won’t be able to deal with the loss—and I’ve already had to deal with a lot of fucking loss, so…
Sometimes, it’s hard to actually go after what you want, even when you know exactly what that is. ”
I look in his eyes. “Are you saying you want…”
He nods. “To be loved by you. To love you, Nikki.” His voice grows deeper, huskier. “Exactly how you want and deserve to be loved.” He clears his throat. “In case that wasn’t clear, I’ve been falling in love with you since the day we met, Nicole Bennet.”
I stare at him, bowled over by the feeling of being seen—not praised, not clapped and cheered for, not awarded a prize—just seen, and loved, for me.
I think I’m actually in shock, half laughing, half crying, aware that my makeup is probably getting ruined—again.
“Well, crap, Nate. I am definitely falling in love with you too.”
And then he sucks in a quick, urgent breath—before taking my face in both his hands and kissing me, pulling me closer to him, until we’re flush, and I can feel the buttons on his suit pressing into my chest. I kiss him back. Soft, slow, deliberate.
When I pull away and look up, I remember that we are standing under the newly repaired roof of my grandmother’s gazebo.
As the sound of mingling guests’ laughter filters through the lattice and vines, and the lake twinkles in the distance, I realize I’m having the fairy-tale ending I always imagined, only it isn’t hazy around the edges anymore. It’s real, and it’s right here.