We are both different now.
But we are still us.
And one thing is certain: we aren’t done.
Not even close.
After what feels like only minutes, the sun cracks the horizon, painting the water gold. She sighs, like she hasn’t breathed in months.
“Well, I suppose we should go home. I might need a nap before the day’s activities. Kaci will be upset if I sleep through them.”
Even after staying up all night, there’s still a pep in our step as we walk back, swinging our joined hands. I walk her up theporch steps and stop at the door. “So,” I say, a little breathless. “I guess I missed my chance to kiss you goodnight, since it’s morning.”
“I guess we’ll have to start a new tradition of kissing good morning.” She stands on tiptoe, leaning into my kiss—sweet, but over way too soon. I get it, though. We’ve been up all night. When she pulls back, her voice is low. “Good morning, Elijah.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” I say, leaning in one more time to kiss her forehead. She turns to go into the house. I leave, forgoing the steps to jump off the side of the porch exactly like I’ve done hundreds of times.
My heart might have jumped too.
fifteen
Koren
The old porch swing creaks beneath me as I swing my legs underneath it and cup my hands around my favorite mug. The air is humid. My eyes are heavy from too little sleep. I tried to lie down after Elijah walked me home. But my mind kept rewinding to all the moments Elijah, and I shared last night. Everything from holding each other, to kissing, the I love you, and the look he had that seemed to say we might actually have a shot this time.
As if reading my mind, Elijah crosses my backyard, heading this way. He clearly just crawled out of bed himself, with his messy hair and wrinkled T-shirt. “I brought breakfast.” He holds up a brown to-go bag. “I know you’re used to your fancy croissants from Paris. They didn’t have anything like that, but they had something called a cronut. It’s a cross between a croissant and a donut. I hope you’ll accept that.”
Grinning, I set my mug on the porch next to the swing to free up my hands. “I guess I’ll have to manage.”
He climbs the steps, walks across the porch, and plops next to me, hip to hip. “So did you even nap?”
My smile is immediate. “Nope. My mind wouldn’t shut down, but it was all good things.”
He opens the bag, pulling out a maple donut for himself, then hands the bag to me. I peek inside. Sure enough, there’s an interesting-looking pastry. It’s donut-shaped, sprinkled with sugar, and the texture is different from his donut. I pull it out and just stare at it. There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m just enjoying living in the moment, our shoulders bumping against each other. It’s a little piece of perfection that I want to savor. I finally take a bite, smile into the doughy center, and hum, “That’s good.”
While I chew, Elijah puts his hand on my leg. “I’m glad you like it,” he says quietly. “I hope you know I meant everything I said last night. I want us to be together again, but better this time. If you have concerns, we have to promise to talk only to each other about them. No more letting others have opinions.”
“I agree.”
He tilts his head, kissing my temple in the sweetest good morning kiss. “I meant it when I said I love you too. I never stopped.”
I shift even closer to him, and he wraps his arm around me. I take another bite of my cronut while his hand traces lazy circles on my arm.
“So the wedding is over. What now?” I murmur around another bite.
“Well, I was thinking I’d ask you on a date later. You’d say yes, obviously. I’d take you somewhere with too much dessert. We’d talk about hockey, flowers, and all the stuff we didn’t get to last night.”
“That sounds perfect, but I was more thinking about what happens with me and you and your whole PR phobia?”
He sighs, but it doesn’t seem like he’s stalling. If anything it’s adding extra emphasis to his words. “I just choose to not care about anything but us anymore. Yeah, my job is important. Everyone is going to have to get used to it, or they won’t. But I’m not sacrificing our relationship.”
If there was any unhealed wound left in my heart, or a last lingering doubt, his words mend it, while also earning him a slow, warm kiss. My promise that I will also do the same. Put us first.
He must have been waiting for this kiss, because he deepens it just a little, his hand drawing me closer until the porch swing creaks in protest. I’m smiling against his mouth when a voice hollers from the front door.
“Stop making out. It’s almost time to open gifts. Jackson and Kaci will be here any minute.”
I jerk back to see Sophie standing in the doorway, messy bun, oversized T-shirt, and leggings, holding a coffee cup and looking entirely too smug.
