I rub my fingers across my forehead. “God, I’m so sorry.”
Her fingers are warm when she touches my arm. “It’s okay, Gavin. You didn’t know.”
“I—” I look at her beautiful face, that soft knowing smile on her lips, the dip of her brows as she watches me. “I can never make this up to you,” I say.
She shakes her head. “You already did. It’s done. It’s finished. I didn’t tell you this to make you feel bad, I just wanted you to know the whole story.”
Her hand slides down to mine, her fingers effortlessly tucking between mine, as we hold onto each other in the space between us. “You told me your whole story in your letter, and I wanted you to know mine.”
I squeeze her hand. “My dad got his job back. His boss also talked him into attending AA meetings so…we’re cautiously optimistic.”
“That’s amazing,” she says, squeezing my hand. “My uncle goes to AA and it literally saved his life. He’s been sober for years now.”
“That’s good. Maybe this will help my dad. But now that he’s working, I don’t have to work as much at my job.”
“That’s why you insisted on finishing the greenhouse this weekend?” she asks.
I nod. She slides over, setting her cup in the cup holder underneath my radio. I do the same to mine, and the next thing I know, Clarissa is sitting right next to me, her leg touching mine, her hand still holding mine as she brings it to her lap.
“Do you think we could put this behind us?” she asks softly. Her head rests against my shoulder as we stare at the greenhouse in front of us.
“I would love that,” I say.
I let my cheek lean against the top of her head and we sit like this for a long while, the only sound is the heater and the soft rumble of the engine.
I close my eyes and enjoy the moment, feel the swell of happiness that’s growing inside of me. I don’t deserve this girl at all, but it looks like she’s giving me another chance. Life could not be any better than this.
“Hey, look,” Clarissa whispers.
I open my eyes. Tiny white drops of snow hit the windshield and then melt away. “It’s snowing,” she says, sitting up.
I turn to her. “Good thing the greenhouse is finished.”
She grins. “This feels special.”
“It feels like a moment,” I say, wondering if she remembers what we’d said that day at the beach.
“A good moment,” she says back, her eyes narrowing mischievously at me.
This time I don’t think too long or wait for a signal, because I don’t want the perfect moment to slip away. I cradle her cheek in my hand and lower my lips to hers. And then the greatest thing ever happens.
She kisses me back.
