Chapter 43
brOOKE
He was right to think that I’d be impressed by the interior of his home.
Gone were the faux-wood attributes of his bachelor apartment.
Instead, I walked in to see an open dining area with a gorgeous live-edge black walnut dining table surrounded by comfortable dining beige chairs.
A large picture window allowed natural light to filter into the space.
Hanging above the table was a modern-looking black matte light fixture.
Turned out grown-up Cade had taste.
The floors flowed through the space seamlessly, a light wide-plank hardwood. I wondered how much of the work he’d done himself. He seemed handy like that.
The kitchen had an island with a butcher block countertop, while the other counters were covered in a clean white quartz. The cabinets were painted a soft gray-blue.
Thick moldings throughout gave the space character.
There was a living space with a comfy gray couch. The whole place was just the right amount of stylish, mixed with cozy and homey.
Cade leaned against the kitchen island with his arms and ankles crossed and watched my reactions, a grin on his face.
I came up short when I entered his bedroom.
The decor was simple—New England coastal, a mix of soft blues, whites, and beiges.
What caught my gaze, though, was the artwork.
An oil painting (or the print of one), a blur of yellows, blues, and whites that felt impressionistic but was still clearly a group of sunflowers.
“Really?”
I looked back at him, a grin splitting my face.
He leaned against the doorway, what Whit liked to call the “romance book boyfriend” pose.
This man.
He shrugged, but his eyes sparkled. “I like pretty things.”
In the month that followed, I made good on my promise to communicate with Cade. I texted him when I was thinking of him, and I called him when I needed to hear his voice or when I felt insecure and needed some reassurance.
“You know I can’t really be spontaneous.” Words tumbled through the phone one afternoon. “I never know how I’m going to be feeling. It makes making plans hard. Sometimes I schedule something and I’m excited to go, but then I have to cancel if I’m not feeling well enough.”
“I don’t need you to be spontaneous. I only need you to be you.”
“Yes, but—”
He cut off my spiral.
“I’m not going into this blind, baby. I know you, almost as well as I know myself. Maybe better. And you know I like taking care of you. Remember how Val says I have White Knight syndrome?”
I barked out a laugh.
“She’s not wrong,” I admitted.
“No, she rarely is. Don’t tell her that, though.”
“You guys still keep in touch, then?”
“Yeah we do. I check in with Blaze every now and then, too.”
He told me all about his job and his life in Vermont, and we caught up on the last three years we’d spent apart.
I told him about Gloria, and Cheryl, both of whom I still had regular FaceTime calls with.
I explained the progress I’d been making repairing my relationship with my mom.
He told me about his search-and-rescue friends, the tough calls he’d endured, and the weekly game nights he had at Bryan and Nic’s.
Sometimes Whit and Ivy joined our FaceTime calls. Cade was endlessly patient as Ivy jabbered on about whatever princess was her current favorite (Jasmine, currently—“she has a tiger,” Ivy explained to Cade in her adorable 4-year-old voice).
We talked more about our shared childhood memories, our favorite foods, where we longed to travel in the future. We discussed our greatest fears and our proudest accomplishments.
With each conversation, we pieced together a bit more of our newly blooming relationship.
Sometimes our talks turned serious. We were nearing our 30s, so we had an honest conversation about whether we saw kids in our future.
Cade drove to Boston to go with me to a rheumatologist appointment where we discussed whether carrying a baby someday would be high-risk for me with my condition, whether my medication would be likely to cause another miscarriage, and whether I would be able to go off my meds if we tried to get pregnant, and manage pain another way.
After the appointment, we sat in the car together and Cade grabbed my hand.
“I want you safe,” he told me. “When we get to that point in our lives—we’ll figure out another way. Or we won’t, and that’ll be okay, too. Being with you is enough for me.”
I squeezed his hand. My eyes shone with tears as I heard the affirmation I’d always needed to hear.
I had no idea how I’d been so lucky as to earn this man’s unending affection.
Cade saw me. And I was enough.