It was just like Rhett said. She didn’twantme to do that. I had paused my life for four years because I thought it would make her happy.
But now I was released.
And the realization felt like someone had lifted a thorny yoke from around my shoulders—one I hadn’t even known was there in the first place. After years of holding my breath, I finally exhaled. The aching in my lungs and that cloud that seemed to loom no matter what I did were gone.
The possibilities were limitless.
Yet, I was already sure of what I would do. The answer was as plain as the freckles on my face.
“Ready for bed?” I asked Easton, hopping from the couch with a wide smile. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
He stretched and slithered off the couch, slowly trailing me up the stairs with heavy footsteps. Easton plunked down on my mattress as I laid the letter out on my shelf and vowed to frame it soon.
Tomorrow would be good. I could feel it in my bones, as sure as sunrise.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“You want to do what?” Rachel said, hands faltering for a moment as she poured the pitcher of milk into my latte.
I stretched my arms across the bar in a “gimme” motion.
Blinking, mouth parted, she slid the unlidded cup toward me. “I’m sorry, I just…” She slumped against the counter, oblivious to Cameron’s pleas from the register.
“I think he has a question,” I mumbled, taking a loud sip and pointing toward the frantic looking curly-headed boy.
“Sorry, Cam,” Rachel murmured and wiped her hands on the rag hanging from her apron as she walked away.
The line stretched to the door—a rare sight for the Morning Bell this time of year, but Cameron’s unraveling had a way of slowing everything down. I slowly nursed my iced white chocolate mocha as Rachel pumped out a queue of drinks on the espresso machine.
“Everything okay?” I said with an amused smile after she called the final order.
“Yeah,” she replied, waiting for Cameron to disappear into the back before adding, “He’d do a lot better at the register if he wasn’t such a little eavesdropper.”
A loud laugh burst from my mouth. “Guess you can blame that on him being the youngest?”
“No. I can blame it on him beingin lovewith you.” Rachel sipped the espresso she’d made for herself and leaned her hip against the counter. “Now—start over. I need to hear this with caffeine ears.”
“I’m closing Marigold’s Flower Shop.”
Repeating the words sent a terrified, giddy shudder down my spine.
Elbows on the counter, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Sorry—when you said it last time, I thought I might’ve been dreaming.”
“Oh, shut up,” I quipped, but I couldn’t keep the cheek-splitting smile off my face.
“Look at you! What are you going to do now? Travel the world?”
I bit my lip. “No. I’m going to re-open it as… Georgie’s Pottery Shop.”
Rachel let out a sound somewhere between a squeal and a gasp, which earned her a suspicious glance from the man at the far corner table, typing furiously on his laptop. She clapped both hands together and leaned across the counter as if I’d just told her I was getting married.
“Stop. Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“Georgie, oh my gosh.” Rachel practically launched herself over the counter to hug me, then thought better of it and settled for shaking my shoulders. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? You! Doing pottery! In an actual store peoplecan walk into and, like,buy stuffinstead of you pretending it’s just a side hobby?”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “I wasn’t pretending. I just never thought… I don’t know.”
