Chapter 12 Hazel
HAZEL
Valentine’s Day…
Mom’s hand clasps mine as I sit in the armchair next to her bed. An anxious knot has been gnawing at my stomach all day, wondering if this is the last day I’ll spend with her. My mood is made all the heavier by the fact that my heart feels like it’s cleaved in two.
After the time we spent together, I can’t believe Marcus left without letting me explain. But then I don’t blame him. I know how that phone call sounded, and he saw the notes I’d typed up. Everything pointed to me seducing him for a story.
My cheeks blaze with anger just thinking about it. I thought we had a connection, but if he thinks I’d sink so low, then he doesn’t know me at all.
I’m trying to tell myself it’s for the best anyway. I could never take him away from the mountain. It would never have worked. It’s best if I remember the good parts about the weekend and try to forget how it ended.
There’s a firm pressure on my fingers, and when I look up Mom’s frowning at me.
“Are you still thinking about that boy?”
It’s funny to hear the burly Marcus being described as a boy. I told Mom all about my time in the mountain. We always share everything, and it took her mind off her own worries for a while.
“If it was meant to be, it will be.”
Her voice is firm, as if this is the be all and end all advice on relationships. I try to muster up a smile. It was easy for my parents; they were so much in love there was never any doubt.
“I guess it wasn’t meant to be then.”
Mom shakes her head. “It’s not over yet, hon. Remember what day it is today. Magical things happen for our family on Valentine’s Day.”
She’s got a sparkle in her eye and her smile is mischievous, not masking any pain at all.
I move to sit on the bed next to her, and she shuffles over to make room for me. I peer at her, trying to read the lines of her face.
“How are you feeling, Mom?”
I’ve been so caught up in my own heartache that I haven’t really being paying attention to Mom. To how much firmer her grip is, the laughter in her eyes, her steady, strong voice.
“I feel a lot better, honey. Over the last week, it’s like I’m getting my strength back.”
That’s when it hits me. Mom isn’t going to die today. Not this week, not this month.
I grab the chart at the bottom of her bed and flick through the bloodwork. She’s been a patient long enough that I can interpret the numbers and the doctor’s scrawly handwriting.
Instead of the decline I’ve been expecting, Mom’s blood work is improving.
“Are you in remission?” It comes out as a whisper because I’m too scared to ask.
“No.” She shakes her head, but there’s no sadness, only acceptance.
“There’s no remission for me, Hazel, but I am feeling better. I may not beat this cancer, but I’m sure as hell not going to let it take me just yet.”
My mouth drops open. Mom’s been accepting of her passing and ready to see Dad again. It’s what’s been keeping her spirits up this past year.
“But… how about Dad? And meeting him in the next realm?”
She shrugs. “I’ve got a feeling there’s something I need to do in this realm first.”
Her eyes move behind me, and I spin around to see the receptionist coming through the curtains.
“There’s someone here to see you. But he’s not on the visitor list.”
Mom gives a knowing smile, and for a wild moment I wonder if she’s met a man online. But it’s me the receptionist directs her gaze at.
“A Marcus Wild.”
My heart does a double flip in my chest. “Marcus…is here?”
My gaze darts to my mother, and she nods sagely like she was expecting this. How do mothers do that? They know things before they happen.
“Go.” She nudges me off the bed. “Go see your valentine.”
“He’s not my valentine,” I mutter as I run a hand through my hair. I’m regretting not washing it last night, but personal appearance has not been at the top of my agenda since I got back.
I rummage in my bag for some lip gloss. It will have to do. It buys me some time as I try to get my thumping heart under control.
Marcus towers over the reception desk, looking like a giant in the small space. His gaze rests on mine, and his expression is unreadable.
My smile dies on my lips. He hasn’t come for me; he’s come for the story.
I emailed him a copy of what I wrote up with a note that I wasn’t going to publish it. But I wanted him to have it. He’s come to start a fight with me again for what he thinks I did, for using my feminine wiles to get him talking.
“Walk with me.”
The sound of his gravelly voice has my knees quivering, and my core gives a persistent tug. Damn this man for having such an effect on my body.
He opens the door for me, and I step out into the small garden that’s part of the care facility. Snowdrops scatter the garden beds and line the small path that leads around the side of the building. The cold air makes me shiver, and I wrap my arms around myself.
“The story’s good,” he says. “Why aren’t you publishing it?”
His expression is still unreadable, cold. But I must be missing something.
“Because you asked me not to. I don’t publish without the subject’s permission; I would never do that.”
I’m insulted that he would even ask. I’m an ethical journalist. Not all journalists are, but I am.
“It’s a story that needs to be told. You’ve done an amazing job.”
The praise from Marcus is worth more than any from my boss. It’s his story, and for him to think that I captured it right means the world to me.
“I quit my job.”
His expression softens for the first time, and he takes a step toward me. His presence this close sets my pulse skipping. I look into his eyes, and there’s hurt and hope fighting for space in his heart.
“I know. I went looking for you. Some asshole tried to get me thrown out of the building.”
My mouth drops open. “Scott?”
He nods. “That’s the guy. Didn’t take kindly to me ruffling his shirt up.”
“What did you do to him?” The image of Scott facing off with Marcus makes me think of a Chihuahua yapping at a Great Dane.
“He tried to tell me you were a crap writer. So I grabbed him by the lapels.”
I giggle, and some of the tension goes out of the air. It’s what I’ve wanted to do to my boss, my ex-boss, a million times.
“Why did you go looking for me?”
I scan his face looking for the truth, hoping like hell it was because of me and not the story.
“Because I didn’t give you a chance to explain. Because I jumped to conclusions. Because the two days I spent with you were the happiest of my life and the two days without you the most miserable.
“I never told you everything that happened with my ex. I came back from tour and found her in bed with my best friend. It was Valentine’s Day.”
I almost laugh at the irony; how can a day of love be so cursed? But it explains a lot.
“So you jumped to conclusions about me.”
He looks pained to admit it.
“I’m sorry I did. But I was wrong. I trust you, Hazel, because I trust what we had was real. At least, I hope it was. I had to come here to make sure, or I’d kick myself for the rest of my life.”
My breath hitches. I reach my hand out for him and press it against his cheek.
“I wrote the story up because that’s how I process the world.
I write. I was never going to give it to Scott without your permission.
What we had was real, Marcus. I felt every part of it with you.
I had to come back to be with my mother, but I left a part of me on that mountain. A part of my heart with you.”
He catches my hand and presses it to his mouth. His lips move over my skin, and the heat skitters up my veins and into my heart.
“I’m such a dumbass. Can you forgive me?”
There are tears in the corners of my eyes, because there’s nothing to forgive. I understand why he reacted like he did, and it’s a relief to know that he doesn’t doubt me now.
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
He pulls me toward him and presses his lips to mine. I sink into the kiss, giving myself over to him.
“I’ll move here, Hazel. I can sell the cabin and find a place with a workshop…”
I shake my head, because I could never ask that of him. “I don’t want you to leave the mountain. I have to be here with my mom, but after…” I can’t say the words. Because how can I grieve for someone but also make plans for when they’re gone?
“Shhh.” His hands clasp mine. “Your mom is the most important thing right now. We’ll do what we need to do for her and then figure out our future together. We don’t need all the answers now. In fact, there’s only one answer I need right now.”
He slides down on one knee, his pants getting wet on the snow-covered ground.
“Hazel Lumley, will you marry me?”
Shock makes my mouth drop open. But there’s another feeling.
As I look into the eyes of this kind, patient man who’s been through hell and heartache, I feel a deep connection, a soul connection.
I know with certainty that this was meant to be.
Up until this point our souls have been adrift, and they’ve finally found each other.
“Yes,” I squeal.
I’ve known this man only a short time, but it feels like forever. My mom is right. Maybe our souls have always been together, and we’ve finally found each other in this realm.
Whatever it is, Marcus is the man for me, and whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together.