“That’s great.” He rubbed his hands together, looking out over the yard before finally turning to her. “I hope you don’t mind that I came here. I just… I’m only up here to see you.”
It was the first time in Kenzie’s life that she’d ever had such potent mixed feelings. Part of her wanted to scream at him to get off her porch and off of her property—to get back in his truck and drive back the way he came because she’dfinallystopped crying herself to sleep at night. But another part of her wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hold on to him so tightly, he could never get away from her again.
“Why?” That was the only thing she could say without opening the door to a lot of emotions she didn’t want to let herself feel again.
“Because you and I are not impossible.”
Even though her heart skipped, she didn’t respond to that. She wasn’t sure what she could even say. Danny had felt they weren’t impossible the entire time. All she had to do was choose him over her dad and the restaurant and everything would be great.
“If you want me to go, I will,” he said when she remained silent. “But I’d like totryto explain.”
“I don’t want you to go,” she said in a soft voice, unable to lie to him. “But I don’t know if there’s any point in explaining because nothing has changed. I mean, sure, I have Tuesdays off now, but one extra morning a week doesn’t make that much of a difference.”
“I process a lot of things internally, and I don’t usually share my feelings until I’ve sorted everything out in my head.” He stopped, blowing out a breath. “And I know that doesn’t make sense because you and I talking things out is kind of our vibe.”
“Talking about your fictional people’s lives and talking about your own emotions are two different things,” she pointed out. “But what kind of conversations were you having with yourself instead of me?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I love my house.”
“I love your house, too, so I understand that.”
“And I got hung up on giving up my house to move up here, and what if it didn’t work because I’d never get to see you, and I’d have to go to all the family birthdays and baby showers and cookouts alone, and then I’m up here in a place I never wanted to live and the resentment breaks us up and then I don’t have you and somebody else is already living in my house?”
Her eyes widened as he poured it all out without even taking a breath. “That’s a lot.”
“I know.”
“Did you try using a whiteboard?” she asked, and he barked out a surprised laugh that made her smile.
“I think while I was trying to work it all out, I was verbalizing the parts that involved you, but not my own parts, so it looked like I just wanted you to do all the compromising. I’m sorry.” He held her gaze, his eyes serious. “I’m very sorry.”
“Thank you. But everything you said is still valid. What is it you think has changed?”
“What changed is that I spent a month and a half alone in my house wishing I was here with you, and I’ve learned that I would rather sleep beside you every night and have three afternoons a week with you for the rest of my life than not have you at all.”
“Dammit, Danny,” she said as the tears refused to be held back any longer and spilled over her cheeks. She swiped at them, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. “That doesn’t make everything else less true, you know. Your family’s super close, and I won’t be able to make every party and shower and cookout. Maybe some of them because a summer high schooler and Nathan could probably get through a dinner shift without me once in a while, but—”
“No buts,” he said, holding up his hand. “You can hopefully make some of them. That’s enough. And you’re closed on the big holidays. Frank would fit right in with my family, and maybe we could switch off. We—including your dad, of course—do a holiday with my family, and then we can do one with your aunt and uncle and your cousins. It doesn’t have to beeverything. We can blend our lives together in a way that works for us. Iknowwe can.”
She wanted desperately to believe him. “What about your house? Like you said, you really love your house.”
“It’s a perfect house,” he said quietly, his blue eyes steady on her face. “But it doesn’t feel like home to me anymore because it doesn’t have you in it.”
Kenzie gave up on trying to stop the tears. “You certainly have a way with words.”
He chuckled. “And I did that without my editor, too.”
“I love your house, too, though.” She sniffed, shaking her head. “I can’t leave my dad and the restaurant.”
“I’m not asking you to. I might not have to sell it. My plan, if you think it’s a good plan, is to stay with Rob and Hannah for the winter. You and I can spend time together. Maybe take up snowshoeing. Do some snowmobiling.” He paused, giving her that irresistible grin. “Maybe have some sleepovers. And in the spring, we can find a little place to rent together. If you really want to stay with your dad, though, I can probably be okay with that.”
“I stay with my dad because it wouldn’t make sense for me to rent an apartment and both of us pay separate expenses.”
“I can rent my house out, and housing’s more expensive where I live, so it would make enough to rent a house up here with some left over. Or maybe we buy a house if the right property comes up.” He waved his hand as if he was going too deep into the weeds. “The point is, you said when you were forty-five or maybe fifty-five, you’d have to figure out what to do with the rest of your life. Maybe it’s growing old with me on that back porch, watching the river.”
The hope swelled up inside of her so strongly, she couldn’t catch her breath. “Danny.”
“I love you, Kenzie. I don’t know the answer to every question yet, but I know the answer to the most important question—can I be happy without you. And it’s no, I can’t. I love you, and I know we can figure it out together.”
