“Thanks, Mom,” I now say, looking over my shoulder at my bedroom.
I’ve pretty much gotten everything packed up and loaded into my car.The last few things are now in my suitcase that lies on the floor, bursting at the seams.
“Do you need help getting anything over there?”my mom now asks, putting on a brave face.
“I think I’m good.”
Heaving my suitcase off the floor, I tug it behind me, stopping when my mom reaches out to hug me.Pulling me close, she holds me for a few heartbeats, her embrace warm and comforting.
“Things are going to be wonderful for you, Daisy,” she whispers, her words gentle and consciously said.“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I pull around to the back of the cottage.The front door is open, the windows wide too, and I can see Miles moving around in the house.
Waiting, I watch him, smiling as I see him go from room to room, catching a whiff of the fresh paint through the open windows of my Jeep.
It’s still hard to believe this is happening, and I look over at the building in front of the cottage, the one I will someday call my bakery.It still feels like a dream.
Grabbing a few things from the passenger seat of my car, I head into the house, calling out to Miles when I come through the door.
“I’m home!”I yell out, absolutely beaming at the idea as I take in the freshly painted walls.
“What do you think?”Miles asks as he comes out from the bedroom and down the small hallway.
“I love it.What do you think?”
“You kicked ass at picking colors.Everything turned out amazing.”His reply is sweet and complimentary, but I couldn’t have done it without him.
“But none of this would have happened if you hadn’t spent all day painting this week,” I tell him, dropping my things on the floor of the still-empty living room.
“Yeah, we owe my dad, Kai and Nate, because I totally couldn’t have gotten it done without their help.”Miles shakes his head, letting out a hard sigh as he says, “Come see the bedroom.”
Following him down the small hallway, my mouth falls open when I see what is in the middle of the room.
It’s a beautiful four-poster bed frame in a soft-colored wood that matches the floors almost perfectly.And on the bed is the most pristine white bedding I’ve ever seen.It looks like something out of a magazine.
“My dad built it,” Miles states like it’s no big deal.But holy shit, it’s a huge deal.He built a fucking bed with his hands.
“He built it?”I shriek out in question.Tanner is incredibly talented, so it should come as no surprise that he did, but I’m still shocked that he managed to get it done in such a short amount of time, and he also helped paint the house.
“And my mom picked out the bedding and the mattress.They said it was a housewarming gift.”Walking over, he flops down on it dramatically.
“Don’t get it dirty!”I call out, cringing as I watch his sweaty and painted-speckled body fall onto the bedding.
“Oh, we’re definitely getting it dirty,” Miles shouts back, propping himself up on his elbows as he calls me over with a hook of his finger.“Come here, we’re christening this bed.”
But that’s when I catch a glimpse of something in the corner of the room, and for a split second, I feel this rush of anxiety course through me.Sending goosebumps rippling over my skin, I push past the feeling.
Seeing Miles’s guitar in our bedroom, a bedroom we now share together, shouldn’t bring out the worst memories I have.If anything, it should bring back all the wonderful memories I have.I have far more good than bad.
He looks at me, realizing what I’m looking at.He hops up from the bed, striding over to where it sits.Picking it up, he pauses, taking in my face, and we’re suspended in a silence that fills the room.
“I’ll put it away,” he quickly says, his words soft.“I can bring it to my parents’ house or Kai’s…” His words grow quieter with each passing second, trailing off until the silence fills the space once again.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head.“Play something for me.”
I go over to the bed, sitting down.I pat the space beside me, calling him over, but Miles stays firmly rooted, his guitar in hand.
