His footsteps stopped short though, and she swore internally. Unaware was not a word she would use to describe Corbyn, and she should have known she wouldn’t be able to fool him. Closing her eyes, she took a slow breath, trying to prepare herself for the conversation to come.
“Sadie…” he said softly, moving closer. “Look at me.”
Biting her lip, she straightened, closing the refrigerator door slowly. She allowed herself one more breath before she turned to face him, knowing what he would see. The redness of her eyes and the blotchy patches on her nose and cheeks gave her away every time.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, closing the distance. His hand came up, and he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. She leaned into the touch, like it was the most natural thing in the world, because after the last few weeks, it was.
“I’m fine,” she replied softly. “It’s just the reality of the book being finished hitting me. After all the hard work, it’s strange that it’s over.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, his hand still resting against her cheek. She couldn’t meet his gaze, not sure what she would find there. Not sure if she would be able to keep herself from crying again if she did look up into his eyes.
“And of course there’s a lot to do over the next few days,” she continued, pulling away, and turning to look out the window. “Packing… travel arrangements.”
“Travel arrangements?”
There was surprise in his voice, and she felt him step closer again. The warmth radiating from his body and the familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around her. She closed her eyes.
“Yes,” she replied, trying to sound casual about the whole topic. “I mean… the book is done. The plan was always for me to go back to New York when that happened.”
She could feel the sudden tension radiating from him. He gently turned her toward him, and she didn’t resist. He was looking at her with that intensity she had come to know so well, his brow creased as he worked through her words.
“Indeed, it was,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Is that what you want?”
“My job is there,” Sadie replied, matching his energy. “New York is my home.”
“Home isn’t a place, Reed. It’s a choice,” he told her. She had noticed he reverted back to her last name when he was being playful or felt like he was on unstable ground. This was definitelythe latter. “It’s a choice to be with the people you love. So, let me ask you again, is going back to New York what you want?”
“I can’t stay here forever,” she responded, not answering the question. “My visa will expire eventually… plus I can’t just pretend like I don’t have a job.”
“Answer the question, Sadie,” he said, his tone telling her he was losing patience with her stubbornness. “Visas and work… we can figure all of that out. Do you want to go back to New York?”
“No.”
Her voice came out as a breathy whisper, and she saw his shoulders drop as some of the tension left his body. She bit her lip to try to stop the fresh tears from falling, trying not to feel utterly ridiculous for being so emotional. His hand came up to rest on her jaw, his thumb sweeping across her lower lip and causing her to release it.
“The people I love… they’re all right here,” she said, once she was sure she could speak. “It’s Maggie and the villagers, and Ellie, and Paul, and Edie… and you.”
His forehead came to rest against hers and she could see the smile tugging at his lips. She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to soak in the comfort of his presence. She felt Riley bump her with his nose, and she pulled away just enough to look down at him with a chuckle.
“And you too, handsome.”
“Then you belong right here,” he said, drawing her attention back to him. “I watched you walk away once, Reed. I couldn’t bear to do that a second time.”
Corbyn pulled her in for a kiss, one to seal the promise of their future. It was a perfect ending to the story she was living, and for the first time in a very long time, she had no desire to edit a single line of it.
Epilogue
-Sadie-
Sadie sat at the kitchen island, sipping tea and listening to Corbyn pace by the front door. Glancing at Edie, who had paused kneading dough to look in his direction, they shared a look. The post was due any minute and Corbyn had been impatiently lurking in the front room for the last hour.
Riley picked his head up from where he was sleeping by the hearth, and a moment later they heard tires crunch over the gravel. Setting her tea down, Sadie tried to push away her own nerves, taking a steadying breath before joining Corbyn in the living room.
“It’s about bloody time,” she heard him mumble, and a soft chuckle escaped her.
“It’s not like the postman has other stops to make before he gets here,” she teased, and he narrowed his eyes at her.
Going to him, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. He had been like this all morning, from the moment they had gotten the notice that the package from the publisher had been loaded onto the mail truck. There had been no talking him down from his restless pacing.
