Chapter 70
Miles
Friday
I read somewhere that if you’re very, very lucky, you’ll fall in love with your best friend.
I was set on breathing life back into my grandparents’ old house in Evermere. I was sure I wanted to spend more time close to my dad. And I was prepared to open my heart at Ella’s pace.
There were moments when I almost sold all the love and quiet reverence I carried for her soul (the least appropriate moments, because that’s what she does to my down-to-earth brain, my usually grounded mind).
She never seemed to notice.
But her eyes didn’t lie.
I knew those eyes too well now. The stories they held, the truths they spoke. I knew. And I was no longer the same insecure person, the one bound by doubts and hesitation that, at times, would have held me back from fighting for what those eyes were telling me.
I know she is the love of my life. She is my best friend.
My dad had been a big influence in my decision.
I told him I didn’t want to live far from a girl who was worth waiting a million years for, and his eyes sparkled, he leaned in, curious.
Then he said, “Life’s too short to wait a million years, son.
If you feel that way… you should do something about it.
Hearts are often broken by words left unspoken. ”
I told my dad I had this idea of moving some things around.
When I told him he would be moving, he was surprised, really surprised. He looked at me and said, “I’d be grateful, Miles. But are you sure? Isn’t that too much of a hassle?”
It could never be a bother to give my dad a life surrounded by the nature he so deeply admires, the nature he speaks of with such sparks in his eyes.
In a month, the CIC would be ready to welcome him, just as Evermere would, which I was sure would embrace him with the same open arms it once offered me.
I had talked to my mother about the house.
She was another influence in this. I’m learning to forgive her for the past, step by step, with patience and empathy.
I asked her to send the house keys by mail, but she told me she was planning to fly in instead, saying, “There’s someone I want to apologize to, in person. ”
I didn’t want the house to feel like compensation, but she didn’t even let me explain it. She said right away that the house was mine, and that she hoped I would fill it with life and with everything I dreamed of creating there.
And then, she listened to my plans. I would fix up the old structures, repair the roof, and replace the windows.
The walls, coated with the dust of time, would need a fresh coat of paint.
I would clear away the overgrown weeds in the yard, trim the wild hedges that had taken over, make it bloom, make it livable again.
I would turn one of the rooms into a studio, make it feel like mine. A house, a home.
I watch Ella walk away, back toward the building, leaving me in the Elmwood Center’s unassuming little garden, now holding the weight of something much bigger. Where time had briefly paused. After what felt like our big movie moment.
We’re parting ways. Her colleagues are waiting. She’s already late for the rest of her busy workday.
“I’ll see you in two hours?” she asks.
“I’ll wait for you at the entrance,” I say. My smile refuses to leave. It feels like my cheeks are stuck in happiness.
She glances over her shoulder one last time. Her golden hair catches the light, lifted by the breeze. She gives me the bright, adorable smile I’ve missed before.
And then she’s gone. But not really gone. Disappearing into the doors of the Elmwood Center.
I stand there for a while.
Certain that I am the happiest man alive.
For the first time in a long time, or maybe for the first time ever, I’m not really afraid of the changes that come next.