47. Fia
Fia
Iclose the book and turn on the sound machine, with Daisy fast asleep in my arms. I don’t normally let her fall asleep against me in the rocker, but right now—even after making up with Penny—she feels like the only constant in my life.
I run my finger gently over the slope of her button nose, always amazed at how perfect she is. Then my heart twinges with worry about the shift in routine, people gone from her life too suddenly . . . but she’s too young to remember Caden.
The longer I sit here, the less will power I will have to get up, so I stand and place Daisy in her crib.
My phone buzzes as I click her bedroom door shut behind me.
Halle: I’m at your front door—I didn’t want to knock.
My pulse picks up as I skip down the steps, eyes glued to the front door, worst-case scenarios circling my mind.
When I fling the door open, Halle’s standing there in lounge clothes, her purple backpack hanging off her shoulder.
“What’s going on, are you okay?” I open the door wide, gesturing for her to step into the foyer. I flip on the light to see her better.
“I’m fine, I’m good.” She smiles but it’s forced.
“You’re freaking me out. What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but . . .”
She sets down her backpack. “I’m here because I need you to go to Good Grinds.”
For a moment I wonder if I’m dreaming, but she continues to stare at me, waiting for a reaction.
I rub my forehead, like that will help me decipher this odd series of events.
It doesn’t.
“Okay, I’m going to need some explanation . . . I’m way too tired to understand.”
She rests her hands on her hips. “I suck at this.”
“At what?” I step forward. “Halle, are you in danger?” I whisper.
“No, god, Fia.” She rolls her eyes, laughing. “You trust me, right?”
“Of course,” I reply without missing a beat.
She exhales. “I just need you to head to the shop. I promise it’s for a good reason.”
“I just got Daisy to bed—” My gaze travels up.
“I know.” Halle picks up her bookbag. “That’s why I’m here. I’ll stay until you get back. I have my laptop and will be working on my resume, but if Daisy wakes, I got this.”
Leaving Daisy with Halle doesn’t bother me in the slightest; she is more than capable of taking care of Daisy. But I don’t like walking into something unknown.
I’ve done that before and look where it left me.
Sensing my hesitation, Halle reaches out to touch my arm.
“I swear to you, Fia, I wouldn’t let you walk into a lion’s den.”
I sigh, closing my eyes before agreeing. “Okay.”
Halle rushes forward, hugging me quickly. “Yay!” She scans my ratty pajamas. “Yeah . . . so maybe just put on some normal clothes first.”
I roll my eyes.“This is insane. You know that, right?”
“But it’s kind of exciting too,” Halle replies with a mischievous grin.
What in the fresh hell is this? I squint through my windshield as I pull into a parking spot in front of the shop. Only a few lights are on, as expected. Good Grinds closed three hours ago. An uneasiness claws at my chest, but I get out of the car anyway.
I changed my pj’s for jean shorts and a knit top, so this better be worth it.
Just as I’m ready to unlock the cafe door, keys in hand, the sight of a note taped to the window stops me. I check to my left and right, but no one is around, so I pull it off the door.
I have to read it twice.
You’re standing in the spot where I first laid eyes on you three years ago. You were just a college student (with the brightest smile I’d ever seen) who needed a job. I was a lost business owner who had no idea that by hiring you, I’d be changing everything . . .
My lungs constrict as I flip the note over, desperate for more words. Instructions are scrawled on the other side in messy handwriting.
Go inside and sit at the table where we first met.
My hand shakes when I unlock the shop and step inside. The lights over the barista counter are the only ones on, but they’re enough that I can still see my way around. A single candle flickers from the round marble cafe table in the back corner—the same table Caden interviewed me at many moons ago.
My feet move me towards the table, my eyes locked in on the single flame. It’s quiet here besides the soft hum of the air conditioner.
I sit on the edge of the seat gingerly, giving up on trying to regulate my heartbeat.
A small note leans against the glass candle. I pick it up.
This is also the table I was sitting at late one night when I decided to promote you to manager.
Not because I knew you would excel (you did) but because I saw the kind of person you were.
You made everything and everyone around you better.
In some ways I was jealous of the light that beamed from you . . .
I furrow my brow, lips parted, rereading the sentence.
How could he be jealous of me—he’s the one with the world at his fingertips.
The back of the card elicits a smirk from me.
Go to the place I found you sleeping.
The tension in my chest eases just a fraction as I quietly nudge the office door open. A single floor lamp casts the room in soft yellow light, and I’m drawn to the leather wingback chair.
I sit down to read the note resting on the seat.
But then I saw that same light in you start to dim.
And I couldn’t bear to see you down. I had to fix it, I had to protect you.
At first, I wanted to fix everything so my business didn’t suffer.
That’s what I told myself anyway, until you moved into the guesthouse.
You introduced me to your daughter, you pulled me into your life.
And I realized that something was way more important than my business . . .
My heart jumps into my throat as I clutch my mouth, eager to keep reading.
Find the door with the for lease sign. Walk in.
What? I flip the card, searching for something else I might’ve missed, but there’s nothing. What door?
Then I remember that the retail space next door is vacant as of last week, and a few days ago a rental sign appeared.
I don’t want to leave the safety of this coffee shop, but I step out onto the sidewalk, inhaling the night air. With all the notes shoved into my back pocket, I walk a few steps over to the neighboring shop. Brown paper covers the windows, but the For Lease sign is taped on the glass door.
My muscles feel like putty, but I reach out anyway, pausing as my fingers wrap around the cool metal door handle. With a mustard seed of courage, and curiosity biting at me, I enter.
“Oh my—” My sandals scrape against the wood floor, my eyes adjusting to the light inside the empty shop.
The door clicks shut behind me, sudden and final.
The space is empty, bare-bones, old pine floors and brick walls with chipping white paint. But that’s not what has my heart pounding, threatening to burst right through my ribs . . . It’s the dozens of candles lining the walls, all flickering, leading my eyes straight forward.
Straight to him.
If there is oxygen in here, I can’t find it.
Caden stands tall, his face drawn in a contemplative gaze. My eyes drop to his clasped hands, another note card in his grasp.
“What’s going on?” I whisper, my breath hitched in my chest. I take two more steps, and stop.
He steps forward, until mere feet span between us, close enough that I can see slight bruises under the gray storm of his eyes.
My lips pop open, hand fidgeting to reach out and touch his face, but he holds up a white note card, stopping me.
It’s small enough to fit in the palm of his strong hands.
“I need to read you the final note.” His voice rumbles, low and strong, commanding my attention, and all I can do is bob my head.
Whatever is on that card, I need to know.
I have to know.
Caden begins to read.
“You were more important than my business. You, Fia,” he says, gaze trained on the paper in front of him. I stand still, afraid if I move, everything around me will dissolve into thin air.
Caden’s brow creases as he reads, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was when you came over for dinner, and somehow got me to open up.
Maybe it was the late nights at the pool that I never wanted to end.
Maybe it was the fact that every time I heard your car come down my driveway, I’d smile without even realizing it.
Or maybe it was after the first kiss, or when I held your daughter, or seeing you two dance around in my yard . . .”
I shake my head, barely noticeable, holding back the tears burning my eyes.
“Caden—” I whisper his name, but he doesn’t look up from the note card.
“I thought I had everything I needed in my life. But then you moved in, and I began to question everything I thought I knew for certain. For the first time I experienced how my house could feel like a home.” He pauses to quickly clear his throat.
“And I knew I would do anything to keep that feeling. To keep you.”
I hold my hands tightly together, feeling perched on the cusp of every word.
“But I screwed up,” he says without looking up. “I thought I was protecting you, I thought I was helping you, but I was wrong. You didn’t need someone to fix everything, you just needed someone to be there, in your corner.”
He stops, dropping the hand holding the note card. We find each other’s gaze as a volcano of unsaid words bubbles through my chest.
“That’s what I want. I want to be in your corner, Fia. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re magnetic, that somehow you light up my world. And I don’t deserve you, but that doesn’t stop how I feel . . .”
His jaw tenses, and he dips his head, looking up at me from under thick lashes.
“I am madly in love with you, and I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
There’s no strength left to hold myself together, or keep silent a moment longer. A fat tear rolls down my cheek.
Caden’s lips pull to the side, revealing the charming smirk I fell for long before I was ready to admit it.
He reaches out, cupping the side of my face, and swipes the tear away with his thumb.
“You love me?” I ask.
Caden nods, his eyes widening as he studies my face.
“Yeah, I fucking love you.”
I laugh, shaking my head as the tears fade away.
“I was really pissed at you all week, you know. That's why I didn't text you back—”
Caden cuts me off. “I know, I should’ve given you the space you asked for.” I reach out, grabbing his hand, stopping him in his mental tracks.
“It’s okay. All of your messages made me think.”
“Oh yeah, and what’s the consensus?”
I smirk and squeeze his hand. “That I love you too . . . and I’m sorry for the way I left, and for saying this was all a mistake. It wasn’t. Not at all.”
Caden pulls me into a hug, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, his large hand cupping the back of my head to his chest. The thumping of his heart fills my ears, and I lean my head back to look up at him.
“So . . . we going back to boss and manager?” I ask teasingly, but my stomach clenches with a remnant of fear. He smashes it away with one simple gesture.
Caden tips his head forward, lips crashing into mine. His touch sends shivers down my spine, and I smile against his mouth.
“No, Fia, we are never going back.” He kisses me again, then pulls his head back. “I missed you. I missed both my girls.”
I pinch my lips together, my heart swelling.
“We missed you too,” I whisper. Then I step back, his arms unraveling from me. “You going to tell me what happened to your face now?” I say, hands on hips, and Caden cracks a wide grin, chuckling.
“Fuck, I missed you.” He rubs his palm over his stubble, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell you later. But first, I have one more surprise for you.”
I cock my head back slightly. “No, I don’t want anything else. You’ve already done so much for me.”
Caden ignores my protests.
“Just hear me out, Hanson.” He winks and hands me the note card. Confused, I take it from him and look down.
It’s blank.
“There’s nothing written on this . . .” I scratch my brow. “That was all from your heart? Okay, Casanova.” I laugh, my chest bursting with warmth.
“Flip it over.”
A silver key is taped to the other side. My breath hitches, and I trail my eyes slowly up to him, disbelief pattering through me.
“What’s this?”
“A key to the door behind you.”
I look back at the paper-covered door. “I don’t get it . . .” I let out a confused laugh.
Caden grabs my hand and walks me backwards with a flirty gaze.
“You’re scaring me!” I shriek with a smile, but he wraps his arms around my waist, spinning me around, and leans down so his lips are next to my ear.
“I’m firing you.”
I twist back around so fast I get dizzy. “Wait—you tell me you love me, and then you fire me?” My voice echoes off the bare walls.
“Not right away. And only if you want.” He turns me around to look at the bare retail space. “This place is yours if you want it. You still dream of opening a used bookstore, or have you moved on?” He flashes a cocky grin, stepping back, arms open wide to the room around us.
“You are ready for it. I know it, Fia. And you deserve to have something that’s all yours.”
My head spins, my vision blurry. Maybe it’s the candles.
“I need to sit down,” I whisper, and Caden laughs, helping me drop to the floor.
He drags me forward so I’m sitting between his spread-out legs, face-to-face.
“I don’t want you to hand me a business, I want to work for this.
” I hold up the silver key still clutched in my now-clammy palm. It suddenly feels like it weighs a ton.
Caden nods once. “Would expect nothing less. But I know the owner of the building, and he is a pretty generous guy, so he’s willing to work out a deal on the lease.”
I know that smile.
“You own this freaking building, don’t you?” I raise my brows, and Caden shrugs one shoulder.
“Did I fail to mention that?” He drapes his arms over my knees.
Then the weight of his words settled into my skin.
“So what do you think?” he asks.
I trail my fingertips over his shirt, up his chest.
“You say I’m the sun,” I begin, “but the sun is nothing without her moon. I can’t do this without you.”
“I have to disagree.” Caden’s face splits into a smile that could make me weak, and he brushes his hand under my jaw, fingers around the back of my neck.
“I think you can do anything.” Our foreheads touch, and I close my eyes.
“But I promise, I’ll be here, however and whenever you need me. I won’t leave you, Fia.”
I inhale as he pulls me in for a kiss. A kiss that takes my breath away, a kiss that feels like the beginning of something new.