Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Why hadn’t his flight landed yet?
Emma paced back and forth on the other side of the security checkpoint at Redemption’s airport, then craned her neck to see through the wall of windows to the runway outside. Still no sign of an airplane taxiing in.
“Oh, c’mon.” Emma shook her head and resumed pacing, her sneakers squeaking against the worn linoleum. She paused, then glanced out the tall windows facing the tarmac again. Still nothing. No blinking lights in the distance, no rumble of engines, no plane taxiing toward the gate.
“Please hurry,” she whispered. Luke’s mom had said he was on this flight, so she’d staked out the airport almost an hour ago. Just in case he was early.
Around her, a crowd had started to form.
Locals, mostly. An older couple holding hands and murmuring about their granddaughter’s graduation.
Two teenage boys discussing summer fishing plans with exaggerated gestures.
A mom juggling a toddler and a diaper bag.
The airport, usually a sleepy stopover, buzzed with small-town chatter.
But all Emma could think about was him.
The baggage carousel sat silent, awaiting the incoming flight.
Six or seven tourists stood in line at the ticket counter, a mountain of luggage at their feet.
Two couples funneled through the only security checkpoint, probably headed for the gate nearby and the only remaining outbound flight left on today’s schedule.
A teenage girl perched on a stool at the cash register, keeping watch over the snack kiosk.
Emma had bought a granola bar there earlier but hadn’t taken a bite. Her stomach was a churning mess.
The delay was only making it worse.
Then outside the window, a white plane with navy-blue letters cruised into view and stopped on the tarmac.
An airport employee rolled the stairs out, and a few minutes later, passengers descended and strode toward the glass double doors.
One by one, they trickled past the rope barrier and a bored-looking TSA agent with a clipboard.
And then she saw him.
Luke.
He trudged forward, head down, hat pulled low, his flannel shirt rumpled, jeans stiff from long hours of travel. A duffel bag hung from one shoulder. His movements were slow. Heavy. He wore his hat shoved low, but not enough to hide the circles under his eyes.
Her body moved before she could stop it, one foot in front of the other, stepping into his path. She didn’t care about the stares or the low murmurs around her.
When he saw her, he stopped short.
Everything in the tiny airport faded away. Conversations paused. She moved closer, her heart pounding.
“Luke.”
He didn’t respond, just stared, eyes guarded.
She drew in a shaky breath. “I was wrong. About leaving, and about Nathan. I shouldn’t have let him convince me he deserved a second chance.”
She paused, then swallowed hard. Wow, this wasn’t coming out right. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but really I just messed it all up.”
“One hundred percent,” someone in the crowd said.
“Shh, that’s not nice,” a woman hissed.
Heat singed her cheeks, but she plowed on. “I feel like all I’ve done is hurt you, and I’m so sorry.”
His duffel bag slid from his fingers and dropped at his feet. A muscle in his jaw tensed. His eyes roamed her face, but still he said nothing.
“When Brittney texted me that you had gone all the way to Boston, I couldn’t believe it.” She blinked back tears. “I stopped in Oregon to visit my dad, and I was thinking you never wanted to see me again, but there you were—chasing after me. After everything I’ve done. After I’ve left you twice.”
A muscle in his arm flexed, and he scrubbed his fingers across his stubbly jaw.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. Not right away, maybe not ever.
” Her voice trembled. “But I have to tell you face-to-face—I’m sorry.
I love you, Luke. A part of me always has, I think.
Even when I was too stubborn or scared to admit it.
Even when I trusted the wrong people instead of the one who has always been there for me. ” Her voice cracked.
“I’m done running—from this town, from my past, from us. I’m here, if you’ll still have me. If there’s even the smallest chance that we could find our way back.”
She stopped, rubbed at the tightness in her chest, and glanced around. No one moved. She dragged her gaze back to meet his. Still, he stood there. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned and looked around.
She took a step forward and stopped. “Say something, please.”
“I flew across the country for you, Emma. Crisscrossed half of Boston, it seems like. I’ve barely slept this week.
Can’t remember the last time I ate anything good.
I just kept thinking I needed to find you, that somehow I could fix this.
But when I couldn’t get ahold of you, I was pretty sure we were done. ”
Her stomach lurched. “No,” she whispered. “We can’t give up.”
She swallowed hard against the rising tears.
Trembling, she cast a quick glance at the people who fanned out around her.
It felt like everyone in the place had paused to watch the spectacle unfold.
Yet she barely cared. Because she’d poured out her heart for the man she loved. What did it matter if she drew a crowd?
She searched his face. But his expression remained a mask of indifference, those blue eyes cool and unyielding, like a frozen lake in the middle of winter.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, but still he didn’t move. Instead, he looked away.
What if he walked right past her and never said a word? The thought sent white-hot pain coursing through her. Why had she been so foolish to think that he would forgive so easily?
She’d found him. But maybe it was too late.
She looked as if she might fall apart right there in front of him.
“Oh, Emma.”
He’d loved her for so long—first as a headstrong, impulsive teenager, now again. Still, really, because he’d never stopped. She might have left twice, but she still somehow managed to hold every single piece of his wounded heart.
Bleary-eyed, he blinked. He still couldn’t believe she’d come. Not after everything they’d been through. Not after the silence. But there she stood, trembling, her eyes filling with tears, and she’d bared her soul to him in the middle of the airport, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And frankly, it wrecked him.
He swallowed hard, his chest aching. Her words echoed in his head, every syllable soothing the jagged edges of his wounds.
Oh, she loved him—she still did. He used to dream about this.
Over the years, he’d thought of what he’d say if she ever came back.
He’d rehearsed a few angry words, and some bitter ones too.
But after his dad’s pep talk, and the way she stood here now, confessing all of her fears and telling him how much she loved him, all the anger and regret melted away.
She was here. She had come back for him. And that was really all that mattered.
He stepped forward slowly, watching as her shoulders rose with another ragged breath.
“I really wanted to be angry with you. After you left with him, I told myself I should try to forget you, that I deserved better.”
Her face crimped, and he reached for her hand, gently threading his fingers through hers.
“But the truth is, Emma, I never stopped loving you.”
A soft gasp slipped past her lips.
“Believe me, I tried.” He brushed his thumb over her knuckles.
“But I couldn’t. I love you with every part of who I am.
I love the girl who left because she was scared to challenge her mother and had just lost her father.
I love the woman who came back because she wanted to pay a debt she didn’t really owe.
I love your courage and your fight.” His throat clogged with emotion. “I love your heart.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and he reached up and caught it with the edge of his thumb.
“I have spent my whole life waiting. Like I needed to prove something or make some huge change in the world or rescue lost souls. Instead, I’m just an ordinary guy getting up every day and trying to do what’s best for the people I love.
And then you came back, and somehow, staying here and waiting here—it all made sense.
” He smiled softly. “You feel like home, Emma Carlisle.”
She made a sound—a mix between a sob and a laugh—and then stepped closer until there was only a sliver of space between them.
“I want a life with you. All of it. The hard times, the silly stuff, the shoveling snow and sickness and bills and binge-watching shows on Netflix. I want to argue about which movies we’re going to watch and hold your hand in church and build a future with you in the only town that’s really ever mattered. ”
Her lips trembled. “Do you mean it?”
“Of course,” he said. “You are it for me.”
And then he kissed her. Slow and reverent, like a man grateful for a gift he didn’t deserve.
Her hands framed his face as she pulled him closer.
No more leaving. Only fresh starts.