Chapter 41 #3
“Nearly killed me,” he says simply. “When the renovations are done, I’ll see if Angie wants it as a second home for her and Jason. Or maybe Sage. She doesn’t have her own place yet. But I’m ready to move on.”
I can’t speak. I just stand there, heart pounding, trying to catch up to what he’s saying.
He strokes my cheek. “I’m not whole yet,” he says quietly. “But the one thing I’m certain of is that I want you at my side while I’m healing. I don’t want to go through it alone. And I don’t want you to go through your own hell alone.”
“Are you serious?” I whisper.
“As a gunshot.”
I laugh, even though my eyes are stinging. “That’s dark.”
“That’s us.”
Is this truly happening? Henry is here? For good? For me?
“Say something,” he murmurs.
I do the only thing that makes sense. I grab his collar and pull him down to me.
This time the kiss is familiar. Like home.
Around us, people come and go, another car door slams, someone laughs.
But all that matters is Henry. And me.
Us.
When I finally pull back, he’s smiling.
“Move in with me,” he says.
“What?”
He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “No speeches. No ‘let’s wait and see.’ Just move in. We’ll figure out the rest.”
“Henry—”
“Look,” he says softly, “I know it’s fast, but it doesn’t feel fast to me. It feels like we’ve been circling this for years.”
I look up at him, at the man who’s still rebuilding his life and choosing to walk back into mine. “You really opened an office here?”
“Signed the lease yesterday.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” His blue eyes sparkle. “You’re not the only one who can make impossible things happen, Miss Surgical Seminar.”
I shake my head, laughing through tears. “You’re insane.”
“Comes with the territory,” he says. “But it’s manageable with the right medication.”
I snort. “You’re also impossible.”
He wraps his arms around my waist. “And I’m all yours.”
God help me, that’s all it takes.
He kisses me again, slower this time, deeper. When he pulls back, he traces my jaw with his thumb. “So what do you say, Doctor-to-be? Want to give the big bad rancher a chance at city life?”
I glance past him at the truck and then at Zach sitting on the sidewalk. A wave of emotion rises so strong I can barely breathe. “Yeah,” I whisper. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good,” he says, grin flashing. “Because Zach already picked out your spot on the couch.”
“You let the dog decide?”
“He’s got better instincts than I do.” He hesitates. “Most of the time.”
I laugh again, and I feel like the world just opened up.
He takes my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist. “Come on. I’ll show you the place.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
The drive is short but beautiful through the foothills, cottonwoods flashing gold in the sun. The air smells like dust and pine. Zach rides in the back, head out the window, tongue wagging.
When we pull into a gravel driveway bordered by wildflowers, I stop breathing again.
The house is perfect. It’s a two-story with a wraparound porch and paint that still smells new. Wind chimes tangle in the breeze, scattering faint music. The mountains rise behind it, so beautiful and majestic.
Henry parks, kills the engine, and glances over at me. “Welcome home.”
I can’t move. “You weren’t kidding.”
He shakes his head. “Come on.”
He leads me up the steps. The door swings open with a soft creak. Inside, the space is simple and warm with hardwood floors, a stone fireplace, and sunlight pouring through wide windows. It smells faintly like cedar and coffee. And him.
Like Henry.
There’s a couch. A kitchen that looks like someone actually plans to cook. A row of shelves half-filled with books. A single mug on the counter.
I look closely. It has my name on it.
“You already—” I start.
“Got you a mug?” His smile is crooked. “I got you a toothbrush too.”
I laugh, walking through the living room. “Henry, this is…”
“Yours,” he says.
“Ours.” The word slips out before I can stop it.
He closes the space between us. “I like the sound of that.”
When he kisses me this time, it’s not desperation or goodbye or relief. It’s the staying, the choosing, the ordinary miracle of two people who finally stopped running.
We end up on the couch, tangled in each other, Zach sprawled at our feet like he’s guarding something holy.
Maybe he is.
“Still think you can handle city life?” I whisper against his mouth.
“I can handle anything,” he murmurs. “As long as it ends like this.”
“Every day?”
“Every damned day.” He presses his forehead to mine. “You know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“All the time I couldn’t get Ralph and what happened out of my head, and then the accident… I longed for peace. Silence.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. But now peace isn’t silence. Now it’s you breathing next to me.”
My throat tightens. “That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”
“And probably the truest.”
I trace my fingers down his arm. “I think we finally made it.”
He smiles, the kind of slow, easy smile that belongs to a man who knows what home is now. “No, Tabs. We’re just getting started. I love you, you know?”
I smile. “I know, but thank you for finally saying it. I love you too.”
Outside, the mountains stand tall. Inside, the world feels small and infinite all at once.
Our world.
Henry’s and mine.
Our lives bound together.
Forever.