“Chicago?” Head tilted, my face wrinkles.
“I thought we could spend Christmas there.”
I want to ask if he was sure, but bite back that question. Garrett knows when to push, pull back, and stop. Just as I do.
He folds his arms around me. “Anker has agreed to cover at the hospital and watch Ditka, so I thought we could take advantage of your two weeks off. A week with my family, and then I’ll fly us off to some place warm that involves you wearing very few clothes.”
“Okay,” I murmur.
It’s such a poor response for all that this means. This isn’t just spending the holidays with his family but being with him for his first holiday season in Chicago since losing Val. Garrett’s biweekly therapy sessions have helped him develop coping strategies to deal with his grief. This is a big step for us as a couple, but an even larger one for him.
“We’ll even spend a few nights at the Palmer House, so I can take you to the home of the original brownie.”
“Really?” I wiggle against him. “Best birthday ever!”
He brushes my nose with his. “Just wait until next year, pretty girl.”
27
THE FINISH LINE
With one last hamstring stretch, I let out a steadying breath. Straightening, I unwind the rope and hand it to Anker. It’s strange to think how this day both took forever to come and came in the blink of an eye. I’m at the start line of a marathon.I’m about to run a fricking marathon!
While we prepare to start, our people wait at the finish line. Catherine, Garrett, and our parents are there. Garrett’s parents and siblings came as well. I told them they didn’t have to, but just like Kayla, they are here. The way I cried when she appeared with Catherine at happy hour three nights ago to surprise me, saying, “Like I’d miss it.”
The thump, thump of my heart as I reflect on the love waiting for me at the finish line quiets the roar of rock music, cheering, and PA announcements swirling around me. It may be just Anker and me in the sea of thousands of other runners readying to crisscross the streets of Seal Beach, but we’re enveloped by an entire team of people that love us.
You just wanted to be loved.Garrett’s words from months ago echo inside me.
“And I am,” I whisper to myself. A soft smile kicks across my face.
“What?” Anker turns towards me.
“Nothing.” I bat at the air.
“Are you Anker?” A male voice breaks into our little pre-race bubble.
“Yes?” Anker tilts his head. “Sonora,” he says, his breath catching.
“Yeah.” Her entire essence radiates a beaming smile. “Sorry to be a creeper. I showed Elliot your picture, so he could spot you and Jensen for me to wish you good luck. This is my cousin, Elliot.”
“Hi,” Elliot, says.
“Hi. I’m Jensen.” I wave.
“Oh my god! Can we hug?” she asks.
“Totally.” I reach out and fold my arms around her.
As much as I know Sonora is real, it’s still strange to wrap my arms around her. She’s tall, at least six feet, with an athletic frame. And she smells like sweet jasmine.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Anker says.
“Yeah…” She shifts. “Kind of a last minute decision. I’m not running, but I wanted to find you both to wish you luck.”
“I thought you were in Portland for a wedding with Micah.”
“Micah,” Elliot groans.
