CHAPTER 10
Lorraine
Our weekendtogether was coming to an end. We’d spent Saturday and Sunday together in the cabin getting lost in each other. We shared memories and laughed. We watched TV snuggled up on the couch together. We spoke about the future. But we’d never said definitively that that future would be ours together.
I packed my bag, wishing I’d said more, that I’d told him how much he meant to me. Even now, I was scared of a future together, but I wanted one with him.
He was strong and resilient, kind and giving, funny and warm. He was all of that and more. He was someone I loved, and not just because we were friends and shared a long history together.
Love didn’t just happen in a few days; it didn’t take a weekend away. No, I’d loved him for a long time, years, maybe decades. Probably decades. OK, decades.
I told myself we had time. But did we really?
We walked to the door together, and I turned to have a last look at the place where everything had changed.
“I’m going to miss this,” I said quietly.
He looked over at me. “Me too.”
I didn’t know if he meant the place or our togetherness. I meant both.
Dan opened the door, and I stepped outside. The world was a hive of activity. The joyful sounds of children having snow fights drifted down to us. The world was all white and bright.
The driver was waiting for us and helped with our bags. Our drive to the airport was the same as our drive here; we were both quiet, lost in our own thoughts. Dan reached across the car and took my hand. My heart lurched. And when I glanced at him and caught his smile, peace settled over me.
We didn’t have to lose what we had gained.
On the flight home, the sky stretched out before us. Pale blue with grey clouds floating. Dan flew with easy confidence, his hand steady on the controls as the plane hummed beneath us. Just like he would be on the farm treating horses. I’d never thought about how sexy that confidence was until now.
I watched the world shrink beneath us as we travelled across the open sky.
“I love you,” he said as he glanced over to me.
I blinked. “What?”
That had come out of nowhere. He’d said it yesterday, but it felt different then, a different context, an explanation of sorts. Now it was a declaration.
His smile was small, but sure. “I’ve loved you since we were children. Before our lives went in different directions. Before I knew what the hell to do about it.”
I stared at him, my heart ready to burst. Maybe it was the altitude.
“And I don’t want this to end. I want every weekend with you, every day with you. I don’t want to waste any more time being apart.”
The plane hummed beneath us. The world was just clouds and sunlight and him, right there, waiting.
I laughed.
He cocked his head.
I shouldn’t have laughed. Declaring your love for someone wasn’t a funny matter. I needed to explain myself. “Did you wait until we were up here to say it because I couldn’t escape?”
He chuckled. “Not really.”
He glanced over again; his eyes were earnest.
I reached for his hand and laced our fingers together. “I don’t know when I first loved you. I didn’t really recognise it as love until today. I think I was hiding from it.”
He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Do you think you could keep loving me? Can we make a go of this?”
