“Brought gifts and dinner,” I say, motioning to the food and the large box in my hands, filled with what seems like a mountain of supplies—about one hundred seventy-five size two diapers, eighty packs of baby wipes, and the biggest jug of Aquaphor I’ve ever seen.
“Come on in, thank you so much!” she says, beaming.
Jovie had asked me to join her on this trip to visit Savannah and her new twins and to drop off dinner, and it had felt like the right thing to do. The ultimate step toward making peace with the past before moving forward.
We split the spaghetti dinner, garlic bread, and salad that Jovie and I had made, passing Savannah’s newborn twins between us. It feels a little like old times, catching up on life, hearing all about her dive into marriage and motherhood. And for the first time in a long time, it feels good to be around her again. Peaceful. I hold no ill feelings or regrets against her. I'm happy that we've both moved on to better things. Better people.
“It’s beenwildhaving two babies at the same time, but I guess it’s good I have nothing to compare it to,” Savannah jokes.
Jovie nods her head, “Twins are insane for the first several years of their life. Now you can see why Nash and I never had more after Wilder and Cody. But it gets easier. The teenage years feelsa lot like the toddler years in some ways. Except when they were toddlers, you didn’t have to drive them around everywhere and they weren’t interested in girls.”
Savannah laughs and shakes her head gently. “I’m excited for all the firsts that are to come. I feel like I was made to be a mother.”
She shifts her attention to me, a playful glint in her eyes. “So, Clay, what about you? I know you and Maggie were together over the summer. Have you two talked about marriage or starting a family someday?”
All eyes are on me now. The question hangs heavy, and I take a moment to consider it.
I’m almost thirty-six years old—still plenty of time to find someone, settle down, and have kids. But the truth is, it doesn’t feel like it’s about having enough time; it’s about finding the right person. And the only person I’ve ever imagined that future with before is Maggie.
“Maybe,” I reply casually. “It depends on if Maggie’s up for that and when she feels the time is right.” This isn’t something I’m comfortable discussing with anyone but Maggie. A decision I’d want to remain private between the two of us.
Savannah and Jovie exchange approving smiles before diving back into their conversation about diaper genies, colicky babies, and baby rash remedies. I zone out, glancing at my watch—Maggie’s flight should’ve landed by now.
“Well, it was great catching up, Savannah,” I say, standing. “But I’ve got to head out—Maggie’s graduation party is tonight.” Both women exchange knowing looks as I head for the door, but I’ve already forgotten the conversation. I’m halfway to Maggie in my mind.
A few minutes later, I’m pulling up to her father’s house. The temperature has dropped and there’s a crispness in the air as I step out of my truck. The door swings open before I even knock.
“You’re here,” Maggie breathes, eyes wide as she takes me in. Herhair is longer now, a darker shade of brown but still falls in those familiar, beautiful curls. She’s wearing a fitted, forest green sweater dress that hugs her curves, making her look even more radiant than I remembered. Her eyes sparkle with that familiar warmth, her full lips are curved into a smile that feels like home.
She looks healthy, vibrant—alive in a way she hadn’t been before she left.
Before I can say a word, she’s rushing toward me, wrapping her arms around me, her whole-body sighing against mine. “You’re here,” she whispers again, this time into my neck, her voice filled with relief.
“Of course. I told you I would be. Where else would I be?”
When we pull apart, she’s smiling, her eyes twinkling with joy. “I’m so happy to see you. I did it, Clay, I graduated.”
“Hell yea, you did.”
She beams. “Come on in. My dad ordered catering and there’s plenty of food to go around.”
She pulls me inside, and for a moment, it feels like we’ve slipped back into old times. But now, she’s being tugged in every direction by old friends, family, and what seems like half the town, all here to congratulate her on her achievement. I know that I should give her space, let her soak in the celebration of her big accomplishment, but I can’t help the jealousy that creeps in.
Four months apart, and all I want is to have her to myself. I’m itching to steal her away, to ask her what’s next, to tell her I love her—but the chance never comes so I make my rounds, making small talk and catching up with her father, the chief who I see almost daily already.
Later in the night, after the last guests have left and I’m sitting on the couch, back to chatting with the chief again, Maggie reappears.
“Hi,” she says, sliding onto the arm of the chair I’m sitting in, hereyes sparkling as she smiles down at me.
“Hi.”
“You wanna… get out of here?” she asks, and her dad’s eyes flicker between us. He claps his thighs with a knowing grin.
“Don’t be home too late,” he says with a wink.
Maggie laughs, shaking her head. “I’m not gonna be home at all, Dad. See you in the morning.”
I smile and take her hand, relieved that we’re finally on the same page. As we head to my car, the drive to my apartment feels thick with unspoken tension, a quiet energy simmering between us built on the time apart over the last several months. I know exactly how I feel, but what about her? We left things unfinished, undefined.
