“All those times you said we were high school sweethearts.”
“We were.” He shrugged and then immediately winced. “You just didn’t know it.”
I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He brushed some dried mud off his wrist. “Sooner as in since you’ve been back, or sooner as in high school?”
“Let’s start with high school and then we’ll unpack our recent history.”
He stared at the medical instruments on the wall. “Do you remember me in high school? Because I was shy and awkward and struggling through a ton of issues. I was tragically uncool and you were perfect.”
“I wasn’t perfect. You know I wasn’t perfect. If those letters are proof of anything, it’s that I was far from perfect.”
“You were perfect,” he said. “Fuck, Shay, you came here fromSwitzerland. Do you have any clue how that sounds to kids from this town? You’d lived in London and New York City. I couldn’t compete with that. And I couldn’t compete with everyone else. The popular crowd, the athletes, the rich kids. Everyone wanted you.”
“I didn’t need you to compete. I just wanted you to be my friend.”
“I was amazed that you wanted that much from me,” he said.
“And the notes.” I dropped my palm to the center of his chest. “All those notes. I can’t believe you kept them. You had them all this time.”
“If you wanted me to die of embarrassment, you should’ve left me out there with the goats.”
“I don’t want you to die of embarrassment,” I said with a laugh. “I’m trying to love you and you’d be making it really hard on me if you died right now. Please don’t do that. But I do want to clear up a few suspicions that I have.”
He wrapped his good arm around my waist, tugged me closer. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re right.”
“Tell me about Little Star.”
An enormous sigh rattled out of him. “It’s you,” he whispered. “It had to be you.”
“And those wonky stars?”
“Yours,” he said. “I did use your intellectual property without proper permission though I’m hoping you’ll forgive me for that.”
I thumbed some blood off his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Forgiven.” Then, “And the blue-gray?”
“There was no blue-gray without the wonky stars. They only ever existed together.” He blew out another breath. “Every time you looked at my hat or the market tent or even the jam jars, I thought it would come back to you. That you’d remember and I’d be busted. You’d figure it out and I’d have to explain…everything.”
“I think you wanted me to remember.”
“Yes,” he conceded, “but I wanted to find a way to make this work first. Make it work for real.”
I smiled at my husband. There was an ugly bruise spreading from his forehead down around his left eye but I loved him and I knew he loved me too, and all of that scared the absolute shit out of me. “I want to try to make it work,” I said, “if you want to try with me.”
“Tell me all the things you want to try, wife.”
I ducked my head, grinning into his neck. “I want a family.”
“What does that mean to you?”
I lifted my shoulders. “It means you and me and Gennie, and Twin Tulip and this weird town that I love to hate but also kind of love.”
“And Jaime,” he added.
“Oh my god, Jaime. Yes. Don’t tell her I forgot to include her in that list.”
“Never,” he whispered into my hair.
