She looks at me, and I can see the fear in her eyes. It's the doubt. "What if he was right? What if I'm not good enough?"
"What if you are?" I counter. "What if you're amazing at it and you never find out because you were too scared to try?"
"Chase…"
"I'm serious. You're smart, you're creative, you do those puzzles quickly. Why wouldn't you be good at something else?"
She bites her lip, and I can see her wavering. "I don't know."
"Try." I encourage her, knowing that if she has something to live for, maybe she'll never try to take her life again. "That's all I'm asking. Just try. And if you hate it, if it doesn't work out, at least you'll know. But don't let that asshole's voice in your head keep you from something you've always wanted to do."
She stares at me for a long moment, and then slowly, she nods. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay. I'll try." A small smile tugs at her lips. "But if it's terrible, you have to promise to let me give it up."
"Deal. But it won't be."
"You don't know that."
"I know you. That's enough."
She leans in and kisses me, soft and sweet, and when she pulls back, there's determination in her eyes that wasn't there before. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For believing in me when I don't believe in myself."
"Always," I tell her, and I mean it with everything in me. I hadn't told my wife I believed in her enough, I'll tell Paisley until she's sick of hearing it. "I'll always believe in you."
We settle back into our comfortable silence, sipping scotch and watching the fire. Eventually, my sweet tooth wins out over fullness, and we split a piece of apple pie between us, passing the plate back and forth.
By the time we head to bed, I'm exhausted but happy. Happier than I've been in years. As I lie in the dark, listening to Paisley's breathing even out room next to mine, I let myself think about what she asked earlier.
Maybe this can be a tradition for us.
God, I hope so. I hope this is just the first of many Thanksgivings we spend together. The first of many holidays, many days, anything she's willing to give me.
I'm falling for her. Have been for a while now, if I'm honest with myself. And for the first time since my wife died, I don't feel guilty about it. I feel grateful.
Grateful that fate brought Paisley to my property that day. Grateful that I was there to pull her back. Grateful for every moment since.
I close my eyes and let sleep take me, and I dream of next year. Where it's possible we'll be celebrating a year together, and maybe the next step in our relationship.
Seventeen
Paisley
The next morning, I open the old laptop of Chase's that he gave me. It's been teasing me from where it's been sitting in the corner of the living room. Every time I go over to work on the puzzle, it taunts me. The one thing I've ever wanted to do for most of my life, is write.
Never a romance, because after what happened with Stanley, I didn't really believe in it.
I've had thoughts of writing a psychological thriller, like the ones I've seen before. Scream and Fear, those have always kept my attention more than love stories. So when I pull the laptop toward me, that's what I'm thinking about.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, and my heart pounds. It's just words, I tell myself. Just putting one word after another. Like putting one foot in front of the other. But it feels bigger than that. It feels like I'm standing on the edge of what could change everything.
Chase is out in the barn taking care of Blackjack, giving me space and time to figure this out. He left an hour ago with a kiss on my forehead and a whispered, "You've got this."
