Chapter 20
SADIE
It’s dark and late enough outside that the Texas summer heat has evaporated into something that resembles relief. Milo’s truck hums as he drives slowly down the narrow roads toward the water tower.
I look out the passenger window. It’s quiet enough that I can hear the crickets starting their nighttime music. I close my eyes, letting the sound settle me, pulling me into a place where I can breathe.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Milo asks softly.
I roll my head toward him, smirking. “Scared? I mean, I know it’s been a while—and you’ve got a bum knee.”
“What do you know of my bum knee?” He glances over at me, curiosity stretched across his face.
A small smile presses gently into my cheeks. “This whole town was rebellious when you played for the Giants. It’s practically a sin to fly flags that aren’t Texan, but every business flew your colors and everybody watched your games.”
Blue flags with red letters once lined the streets—bright against brick and dust, a small-town kind of pride that didn’t ask permission. Then the injury happened, and slowly they disappeared one by one. As if leaving them up felt like saying something no one knew how to say anymore.
“Did you watch?” he asks, almost a whisper.
“My daddy never missed a game,” I say. Then after a beat, “And I watched with him.”
I never missed a game. I’d made Milo promise me to give his all—and he did. It was surreal seeing him on the screen, his photo with stats beside it making pride and loss ache within me.
Milo smiles. “Did you cheer for the other team? Send them cookies?”
I laugh, and it’s a laugh I can feel through my toes. “No.”
“So, you saw . . .” He trails off.
I swallow. “I saw the hit.”
He nods as he puts the truck in park and turns toward me. The engine clicks as it cools, metal ticking in the dark like it’s exhaling, too.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
“Did it hurt?” I ask, knowing it’s a dumb question. How could a hit like that not hurt?
He breathes heavily out his nose. “I knew it was bad the moment it happened.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I know how much you loved playing. I imagine it’s like if I went blind and could no longer read my books. I could listen to the words, but it wouldn’t be the same as absorbing them in their ink, feeling their meaning as they imprint themselves on your soul.”
His hand reaches out for mine, squeezing it. “I suppose so.”
I don’t let go of his hand. I let the warmth of his skin press into mine as I stare out the front windshield.
The water tower looms ahead, its legs cutting into the night sky. I’ve driven past it my whole life, but tonight it feels different—less like a landmark and more like a dare.
“What made you want to climb the water tower?” Milo asks.
I inhale deeply. “It’s going to sound stupid.”
“You’re talking to the guy who wears fake glasses and sips from empty mugs,” he says, squeezing my hand again.
I grin. “True.” I let go of his hand and pull my legs up on the seat beside me, shifting so I’m fully facing Milo. “In high school, I always heard about how everyone climbed the water tower. One day, in the girls’ bathroom, I overheard someone say how Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes would never.”
“You’re here now,” Milo says.
“Ten years later,” I add.
“Better late than never.” He pauses, letting those words hang in the air between us before he asks, “You ready to do this?”
A tiny thrill brushes against my spine. “I’m ready.”
I tuck my hair behind my ears and inhale deeply as Milo opens his door and hurries over to open mine.
He extends his hand. “It’s time to climb your tower, Rapunzel.”
I take his hand again, a smirk tugging at my mouth and eyes. I use his grip to pull myself out of the truck quickly, darting ahead and yelling back, “Race you to the ladder!”
“Hey!” he shouts.
I hear the truck door close and Milo laughing behind me, but soon his breath is fuller and I can hear his footsteps gaining.
I reach out in front of me, hugging the ladder as I reach it first. Then Milo’s body is suddenly against me, his hands holding the ladder several inches higher. My pulse quickens.
“You cheated,” he says breathlessly.
I turn slowly, my gaze flicking up to his eyes that are heavy on me. “Did not.”
He grins. “I’m a running back, Sadie Summers.”
“Was,” I point out. “Now you’re Mr. Carter, history teacher who wears sexy glasses for TikTok.”
His grin melts against his cheeks. “Sexy?”
My heart hammers. “I said the glasses were sexy.”
“Noted.” He pushes softly off the ladder. “Ladies first.”
I turn to look at the ladder, and as my gaze travels upward and I realize just how tall the water tower is, another unfortunate realization hits—
I. Hate. Heights.
“One hundred ninety-two,” Milo says behind me.
“What?”
“That’s how many steps there are.”
“Oh.”
Milo carefully wraps his hands on my shoulders and leans closer, whispering in my ear. “Do it for the plot, Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes.”
His words course through me, unexpected and impossible to brush aside. My pulse stumbles, heat lingering where his voice still feels close. And I have the disorienting sense that this isn’t just about the list anymore.
This is about the plot. My plot.
I am the leading lady of my own story.
I feel something rise in my chest, and I put my right foot on the first rung.
Here goes nothing.
The first twenty steps come easy, blood pumping through my legs in determination, but I start to slow as I realize twenty steps is almost twenty feet up.
“Don’t look down,” Milo says from below me. “One foot at a time.”
I inhale deeply and take another step. “How many times have you done this?”
“Enough,” he answers, no worry or panic in his breathing like there is in mine.
I start to tilt my head to glance at him . . .
“Don’t look down,” he repeats. “Just listen to me.”
I close my eyes. “Okay, well if you want me to listen you, you better start saying something interesting.”
“Like what?”
I open my eyes, taking another step up. “Like maybe tell me who Raelyn is.”
“Raelyn?”
“The girl you dated in college.”
Raelyn wasn’t just a name. She was a hush. A look passed over coffee. Conversations that bent the second I walked in, like I’d stepped into something halfway told. They smiled at me tightly, asked how my day was going, and then they continued to whisper once I walked past.
I steady my foot on the next rung, fingers tightening around the rail.
“Everyone was quiet when I walked in,” I say, softer now. “That usually means something mattered.”
Milo sighs. “There was no Raelyn.”
“What?” My voice is so low, I’m not sure he can hear me.
“I didn’t date anyone named Raelyn.”
“Everyone knew about her,” I argue.
“Well then, everyone was wrong.”
“Everyone was wrong?”
“Sadie, you can’t trust gossip.”
He has a point. Dusty Hollow has always let its rumors outrun the truth.
“Okay, then what about Heather?”
“Heather who?”
“The girl you broke up with when you were drafted,” I say, my breath becoming more ragged with every step I take on these metal rungs that feel like they are sawing through my soles.
“I didn’t break up with anyone when I was drafted.”
“Evelyn?” I ask, my voice high-pitched as I look out and see the tops of trees already below us. My knuckles turn white as I grip the ladder tighter.
“There was an Evelyn,” he confirms. “We dated for two months.”
“Was she nice?”
“She wasn’t mean.”
“So, you liked her?”
He chuckles under his breath. “Well, I’m pretty sure I did since I dated her.”
“Was it serious?” I ask, a sudden pang of jealousy creating scenarios of intimate moments between Milo and a woman I don’t even know. In my mind she’s blonde with airbrushed skin, has a laugh that rivals a babbling brook, and is more fun than I am.
“As serious as talking about the weather,” he answers.
The wind suddenly whips around the tower, tugging at my T-shirt. I freeze and pull myself tight against the ladder. I send up a prayer that today is not my last.
“You’re doing good, Sadie,” Milo says calmly but firmly. “You can do this.”
I swallow hard. “Milo?” My voice is shaky.
“I’m here.”
“Did you miss me?”
The question leaves me more exposed than the height ever could.
He sighs so deeply I can hear it clearly, as if he were beside me. “There wasn’t a day you weren’t with me, Sadie.”
I let his words absorb down to my marrow before I say, “Milo?”
“Yes?”
“Are we almost there?” I hug the ladder tightly, the wind teasing my hair as if it can sense my nerves.
“Thirty more steps.”
“I can’t do it, Milo.” My voice is ragged.
“Listen, Sadie. You’re feeling fear because it’s new, not because you can’t do it.”
I nod, my knuckles turning white as I cling to the metal. “Okay.”
“Take a deep breath and repeat after me,” he begins. “I am Sadie Summers.”
“Milo . . .”
“No, I’m Milo,” he teases. “I am Sadie Summers.”
I take a deep breath. “I am Sadie Summers.”
“I am strong and smart.”
I lay my forehead against a metal rung. “I am strong and smart.”
“And I’m doing it anyway.”
“And I’m doing it anyway,” I repeat.
“I’m also really pretty.” I can hear his smile through his words.
“I am not saying that,” I mutter.
He doesn’t answer. He just waits.
“Fine.” I sigh. “I’m also really pretty.”
“I agree,” he says, and a small smile crawls across my face that makes me believe I can do this.
I inhale deeply once more, loosening my grip around the ladder, and slowly take the final thirty steps with legs that feel like cooked spaghetti noodles. When I get to the landing, I push my body against the tower so there’s no air between me and the metal and wait for Milo.
He appears beside me, turning me to face him. His grin is wide. “You did it.”
My head is shaky as I nod. “I did.”
He wraps his arms around me. “No, Sadie, you did it!”
I breathe into his hug and let his warmth calm my nervous system. He doesn’t let go. He just lets me melt into him. I mumble into his chest, “I don’t think I liked it.”
Soft laughter ripples through his body, vibrating against my face. “Trying new things doesn’t mean you’ll love them all. It’s okay to figure out which ones are for you and which ones aren’t.”
He doesn’t let go, but he leans back so he can see my face. “Let’s sit down. I’m sure your legs need a rest.”
I nod.
He holds my hand, guiding me to the edge. I freeze as I look down at how far the ground is. He sits, his legs dangling off the edge, then pats the space beside him.
I very carefully lower myself to the spot, immediately hugging into his side. “Don’t let me go.”
Milo’s eyes soften. “I won’t. I promise.”
I lean my head on his shoulder, taking in all the glittering lights of this small town I’ve known all my life and yet never seen like this. How can you know something for so long and not really see it fully?
“There’s your house.” Milo points.
My shoulders tense slightly.
“Where’s Joe’s?”
He adjusts his finger and says, “Right there.”
I lean into his hand and close one of my eyes so I can see exactly where he’s pointing. Then I put my head back on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful.”
His lips gently press against the top of my head. “Beautiful.”
We sit there for a few minutes in silence, the symphony of crickets filling the night air. Milo’s shoulder is soft yet firm, and I realize this is the most content I’ve felt in a long time . . . until my eyes widen with a new realization.
“Milo?”
“Hm?” His tone is lazy and unworried.
“How do we get down?” A slight panic rises in my chest.
I can feel him smile without seeing it. “The same way we came up.”
“Well, I guess I live here now,” I say with resignation.
“Hey,” he says gently. “Look at me.”
I lift my head off his shoulder, turning to see how his blue eyes are so much brighter than the night sky behind him.
“I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll go down first and help you find your footing if you need me.”
I nod reluctantly. “Okay.”