My chest tightens, my vision suddenly blurring as I try to blink away the tears.
Alex notices. “Why are you crying, Princess?”
I try to speak, but nothing comes out besides a shaky breath.
He takes a slow step closer. “Em.”
I shake my head, wiping the tears from my face. “I just—” I swallow hard. “Thank you.”
Alex’s eyes search mine, and for a second, I swear I see relief there. Then he exhales, raking a hand through his hair. “I wanted to explain why I wasn’t there that morning. Why I left.”
I study him. His face is serious. He needs me to understand. And I know that I should at least give him a chance to explain himself but I'm too overwhelmed right now, too raw.
Still I give him a small nod. “Okay.”
The corner of his mouth lifts just barely, then he glances out the back door. “Come on,” he says. “There’s one more thing I want to show you first.”
The secondI step into the backyard, I am more overwhelmed than I thought possible. My breaths come in short gasps. And this time not because I am currently, actually,dying.
It’s beautiful.
The overgrown grass and weeds are gone and replaced with a lush, manicured lawn that looks almost fake. The flower beds, once choked with dead leaves and neglect, are now brimming with color—deep purples, bright yellows and soft pinks. The towering oak tree at the back of the yard has twinkling fairy lights woven through its branches, their glow flickering softly in the early evening light.
The deck has been completely redone. New planks, a freshcoat of stain, railings that don’t wobble when you lean against them. The porch swing, that hasn’t been in commission for years, now hangs steadily with new, plump cushions. The perfect spot for future reading.
The most breathtaking aspect of it all is the setup in the center of the yard.
A picnic. A large, checkered blanket is spread across the grass, layered with plush pillows in warm earthy tones. Candles, of different shapes and sizes, are scattered around the edges, flickering in the dimming light. And on top of the blanket, sitting in perfect little takeout containers, is my favorite sushi. The logo on the outside tells me that it’s from a place in town I’ve craved for the last decade and didn’t think was still in business.
I press a hand to my mouth in disbelief. Alex notices my shock and clears his throat behind me. “It’s from East Harbor.”
I whip my head around to look at him, my vision suddenly blurringagain. “Are you kidding me?”
A small, almost shy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “We used to get it all the time.”
I can’t stop the tears this time. They spill over, warm and unrelenting, streaming down my face as I look at him, at the yard, at everything. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.
Alex steps closer, his hands hovering near my waist like he’s ready to steady me if I need it. “Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s sit.”
I nod, not trusting my voice, and let him guide me toward the blanket. He moves slowly, carefully, helping me lower myself onto the pillows.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
I nod again, not able to respond with any words. I can’t look at him without crying again.
Alex exhales softly, brushing a thumb against my cheek towipe a tear away. His touch is gentle and lingering. “You’re really crying again, huh?”
I let out a wet laugh. “Shut up.”
He chuckles, but then his face sobers and I feel the shift in the air between us.
“I need to tell you what happened that morning,” he says.
I stiffen slightly, bracing myself for a topic I really don’t want to relive.
He runs a hand through his hair again, looking away for a second before meeting my eyes again. “I didn’t leave you, Em. I went to get us coffee, and something sweet for you, because you always want something sweet in the morning. When I got back, you were gone.”
My breath hitches at the truth and I feel guilty for ever assuming he just up and left me.
