Cory’s gone when I wake a little while later. I roll over to my nightstand and see he’s left a note for me:
Sorry—I had to go into the bar. Call me when you’re up.
Then underneath, in huge block letters, he’s put:
LOOK AT THE WEBSITE.
My gut roils as I stare at his messy handwriting. I don’t want to look at the website, but if Cory is insistent, I know there’s a reason. It’s just… I’m too nervous. No,nervousisn’t the right word.
I’m fucking terrified.
Then the words from that meditation teacher—Daniel—come back to me, clear as day:When you feel fear, you need to breathe deep and know that the intensity of it will pass.
I wriggle up in the bed. Feeling my pulse tick up a notch, I reach for my phone. On the locked screen, there are several notifications from Geoff, Alex, Cory and Hayley—and then I come to the text from Myles. There’s a preview of his message, and all I can see is:
Myles:Hey. Sorry this has taken so long, but—
My heart takes off at a sprint and my vision blurs, the pain in my chest expanding and pressing against my ribcage. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think—
Just breathe.
I close my eyes and draw in a faltering breath.
Just breathe.
I draw in another breath. Then another. Slowly, I raise my phone, unlocking it with shaking hands to read his message:
Myles: Hey. Sorry this has taken so long, but I had a whole bunch of issues with the web hosting. Anyway, the site is up and running, and I’ve emailed you stuff for the social media accounts going forward. I hope it’s what you were wanting, any issues just let me know.
Pulling in another deep breath, I click the link he’s sent. But when the site opens in my browser, I forget to breathe altogether.
Oh my God.
I sit up in bed, taking in the site, slack-jawed. It’samazing. The colors, the photos—the pictures of me with Stevie, laughing and smiling and glowing—I’mglowing,because I was so in love with him and didn’t even realize it—and the dresses, all of my dresses, listed with prices, and a form to fill in for custom orders, and a page all about me and my style, and links to social media, which I click—there’s an Instagram account with—holy shit,seven thousand followers?How did he do that?—and a Facebook page and all these gorgeous pictures of me and my dresses and the fabric I love and color, everywhere, color—and everything,everythingfeels so me, so vibrant and alive and me, and it feels like him, too, all of it.
It feels like him and me, all of it.
And he did so much more than the site, because I open my email to find instructions for managing the social media accounts and huge files with images and captions to keep me going for months—and woah, I already have nine custom order requests and it only went live yesterday.
I clutch my phone tightly, awestruck by what he’s created for me and just how perfect it is. The feeling in my heart intensifies as I realize I love him even more now.
And then, for the first time, I see it—the name he’s given the site. We never did decide on a name, but it turns out he’s come up with one, all on his own, and the words hit me hard in the chest.
Sew in Love.
I blink, reading them over and over.Sew in love. So in love. Is it possible, is there any way… Could this be a sign?
Adrenaline spikes inside me and I leap out of bed and pace the room, my mind in overdrive. What if thisisa sign? I want so badly to believe that it is, because if there’s any chance that he still loves me—that I could still be with him—then I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back. I know I pushed him away, that he feels like he can’t trust me anymore, but—
Oh, God. How did I miss this? All this time I was afraid that I couldn’t trusthim, butI’mthe one who couldn’t be trusted.I’mthe one who caused the most hurt.
I push my hands into my hair, desperate. If I want to get him back, I need to do something big enough to show him that I’llneverpush him away again.
My fingers type out a text to Cory before I can even register what’s happening.
Cat: Thanks for the pep talk. I’m feeling much better. Can I borrow $5000? I’ll explain later.
I watch the screen as the little dots appear, then disappear, then appear again. Finally, Cory’s message comes through.
