Chapter 24
Penny
As I step off the Metro, I acknowledge that this city is exhausting. My feet hurt, my hair’s gone flat, and my brain’s still stuck in work mode. DC hums around me—horns, sirens, and the soft whoosh of the train doors closing—but all I can think about is how far I feel from home.
It’s been a long day, the kind that blurs into fluorescent lights and back-to-back meetings.
Still, I did something meaningful today.
Not glamorous, but good. I spent half the afternoon meeting with a small agricultural co-op from western Virginia, walking them through grant paperwork so they could expand their produce program.
One of the farmers—a young woman named Marla—teared up and said, “You have no idea what this means to my family.”
That?
That’s the kind of thing that lights me up inside. It reminded me of why I chased this career in the first place—to bridge the distance between Washington policy and the people it affects. But tonight, walking the last few blocks toward my apartment, it doesn’t feel as bright.
Because every time I do something that matters, I want to tell Sam about it. I want to share it with the most important person in my life.
He’d listen. He’d grin, proud and warm and maybe tease me about “saving the world, one soybean at a time.” But he’d mean every word and I miss that.
I miss him.
Sure, we talk every night. Sometimes we fall asleep on FaceTime, his voice fading straight into my dreams. But even with all the calls and texts, the distance stretches like an old rubber band—tight, tense, ready to snap.
And I don’t want that to happen. I’ve come to realize that this connection I have with 1ySam is the most important thing in my life, and I can’t waste another minute being away from him. So, I’ve taken matters into my own hands, and I feel relief deep in my gut as a result.
What he doesn’t know—what nobody knows—is that I made a decision yesterday.
I told my boss I’m not taking the promotion, and I gave my two weeks’ notice.
Last night, riding high on the new future facing me, I began packing my small apartment, starting with my kitchen.
I ran down to the local newsstand, grabbed ten newspapers and came back to start wrapping plates and glasses.
I felt accomplished and excited for what the future holds.
The boxes in my kitchen are stacked like little soldiers, waiting for orders.
Now I have to figure out what to do next.
I haven’t told Sam yet. He’s busy with the start of his press tour, but mostly, I know he’d try to talk me out of it. My plan is to fly under the radar until I’m ready to settle back down in Whynot.
Two weeks and we’ll be together again.
I turn down my block, adjusting the strap of my tote bag, totally lost in thought.
My sneakers suck against concrete soaked from this afternoon’s rain showers and I think about the ridiculous contrast of business suit and running shoes.
Typical Washington commuter fashion and I’m trading that in for…
well, I don’t know what. I have no idea what I’ll even do for a living.
I’m so in my own head, that I almost don’t see him at first.
At the far end of the street, beneath the golden wash of a streetlamp, someone’s leaning against the iron post. Tall. Broad shoulders. Jeans, boots, jacket.
It takes me a second to process what I’m seeing. Then my heart forgets how to beat properly.
Because it’s Sam.
He’s standing right there, head tilted, hands in his pockets, like he’s been waiting for me forever.
I freeze for a half second, then start walking faster. Then running. My bag bounces against my hip, my shoes slap the pavement, and before I know it, I’m throwing myself into his arms.
He catches me with a laugh, solid and warm and real. “Easy there, Pritchard. You’re gonna give a man whiplash.”
“You’re here,” I gasp, pulling back to look at him. “You’re actually here.”
He grins. “And you’re wearing a power suit and tennis shoes. Real high fashion.”
I smack his shoulder, then cup his face and kiss him, hard. It’s desperate and joyful and a little clumsy from all the adrenaline.
When we finally break apart, we’re both laughing.
“I thought you were in Atlanta,” I manage.
“Had a change of plans,” he says, eyes locked on mine. “Can’t stay long—early flight tomorrow—but we need to talk.”
Something in his tone makes my stomach drop. It’s gentle, but serious. We need to talk. The worst four words in any relationship.
“Okay,” I say carefully, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Inside my apartment, I hang up my jacket and kick off my shoes. Sam does a slow perusal, a half smile on his face. His gaze lands on the partially packed boxes and open roll of tape sitting on the counter.
“Wow,” he says, eyebrows rising. “You’re moving fast. Someone upgrading to fancier digs with that fancy promotion?”
My lips twitch. “Not exactly.”
He looks back at me, confusion flickering. “What’s going on?”
I exhale, set my tote on the table, and face him. “I’m packing up to come home.”
He blinks. “Home?”
“Whynot,” I say softly. “I told my boss yesterday I’m not taking the position. I’ve got two weeks to finish out.”
He just stares, mouth slightly open. “You can’t,” he says finally. “Because I—Penny, I was coming here to tell you I’m moving to DC.”
I gape. “You what?”
“Yeah.” He gives a half-laugh, half-groan. “I talked to Derek. We worked it out. I was gonna surprise you.”
“And I was going to surprise you. I was thinking some big, romantic gesture, showing up on your doorstep with a suitcase in hand. That’s romantic, right?”
We just look at each other—both caught between shock and the absurdity of it all.
“You can’t uproot your life because of me,” I say. “You love Whynot. It’s part of who you are on a cellular level. You’d hate living here.”
“And you can’t quit your career because of me,” he replies. “You’ve worked too hard at it and what you do is too important.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t do it because of you. I did it because of me.”
Sam chuckles. “Well, I didn’t move for you—I moved for us!”
We both stop, blink—and then start laughing. The kind of laugh that breaks tension clean in two.
“Oh my God,” I wheeze, wiping at my eyes. “We’re both idiots.”
“Idiots in love,” he corrects, stepping closer.
I loop my arms around his neck, still laughing through tears. “You said something once about roots and wings.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“Well,” I say softly, “I’ve been flying for a long time. I think it’s time to fold the wings for a while and nurture the roots—with you.”
He exhales, a shaky sound that feels like relief. “You’re sure? What you do is important, Penny. I don’t want you to abandon your dreams.”
“I’m positive this is the right decision,” I say. “I feel it so deep in my gut. Whynot’s where I belong. With you.”
He cups my face, thumb brushing along my cheekbone. “Okay, but just so you know, you’re not staying with Muriel.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hell no,” he says with that grin that always melts my heart. “You’re moving in with me.”
“Just like that?”
“Penny, I’ve loved you fast from the start. I’m not slowing down now.”
I laugh, kissing him again, softer this time, deeper. “Guess we’re terrible at long distance.”
“Guess we are,” he murmurs. “Good thing we’re better at together.”
We stand there in the quiet, surrounded by boxes and the hum of the city outside. His hand slips into mine, fingers interlaced, and the world narrows to this small, perfect moment.
I look up at him and smile. “Funny how everything feels right when it’s this simple.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I tug him closer, resting my head against his chest. “We finally both found where we truly belong.”