I knew how caring she was when Mr. Parkinson talked to her in the airport—that man doesn’t grab hands and pass out smiles for anyone. But I had no idea she’d have a light to her that would make even the coldest parts of me feel seen and warm. Or thatcaring so deeply would wear her down and build her up at the same time.
Her quick wit has struck me more times than I can count, but I love that it doesn’t come with an edge. Instead, it’s warm and inclusive, drawing people in rather than cutting them down.
Three days. That’s all it took.
Three days, and I’m completely gone for her.
I’ve never felt emotion like this. I don’t know how to describe it or contain it. I feel like someone inflated a hot air balloon in my chest, and I could float right out of Jake’s SUV. My hands are restless against the leather seat, and I realize I’m bouncing my knee—something that makes me feel like a kid waiting for Christmas morning.
Somehow the world has kept spinning while my brain caught up with my heart. I don’t know how long I’ve been processing, but Scottie has stepped up, talking to Poppy the whole time.
And then I feel a tug on my heart, one that feels like regret more than guilt.
Grace.
For over a year, she’s been my safe harbor. The person I could talk to without risking anything real. We understood each other through screens and careful distance—two people who were too scared to want more.
But now I see that’s exactly what we were: scared.
What I feel for Poppy isn’t safe. It’s terrifying and real and sitting right next to me with her hand in mine.
Grace and I promised each other we’d never push, never ask for more than the other could give. And I kept that promise … maybe too well. Because somewhere along the way, I think we both knew that what we had was beautiful and important, but it wasn’t going anywhere. It couldn’t. While Grace kept progressing, I didn’t.
I was too afraid.
I’m finally ready to lean into the fear … with someone else.
I’ll tell Grace the second I’m back in Rochester. It won’t be “I met someone else,” though. It’ll be “Thank you. Thank you for showing me I could feel something again. Thank you for being a friend and confidante, thank you for being there when I needed someone safe. But I’m ready to stop being safe now.”
She’ll understand. I think she’s been waiting for one of us to say it, so I will. Tomorrow.
Right now, though ...
Right now, all I want is Poppy.
“So you flew to Georgia for work and then quit,” Scottie says, like she’s repeating something Poppy just told her. “What did you do?”
“Criminal justice stuff,” Poppy says vaguely. “It’s boring and a lot of it’s confidential.”
Her voice drops on the word “confidential,” and I catch the slight shift in her tone—something that sounds like exhaustion. Or maybe … shame?
“Are you a spy? Please tell me you’re a spy,” Scottie says.
Poppy gives a wry laugh. “If only.”
“What are you gonna do now? You live in Rochester, right?”
“My lease is up in January,” she says. “Maybe I’ll fly down to Florida and stay with my mom and stepdad for a while.”
Poppy’s childhood was so hard, and her mom never had time for her. Maybe it will be healing for her to spend time with her mom now.
And she’ll be a lot closer to South Carolina …
“Are you going to look for a new job right away?” Scottie asks.
“Oh, yeah,” Poppy says. “I shouldn’t have waited this long, honestly. Crushing student loan debt and all.”
“I’ll pay it off for you,” Jake says, catching my eye in the rearview mirror with a smirk that makes me want to punch something.
