She looks genuinely thankful, like I’ve given her more than coffee and sugar.
“I’m the one who should be thanking you—”
“Stop,” I interrupt, dipping down and kissing her mouth.
If she’s kissing me, she can’t be telling me how sorry she is or how she’s grateful I stepped in. We went through this last night and I thought I made myself clear. She has nothing to apologize or thank me for. There was no other way.
Each time she tries to talk, I kiss her harder, until she’s in a fit of quiet laughter.
“Fine, fine. I’ll drink the coffee and eat the treats.” She lifts her arms in fake surrender.
A few seconds later, her eyes light up. “Oh! I almost forgot. Today is Harbor Blooms day!”
That’s right. Another thing on Mom’s list. My chest tightens, but it’s the good kind—with purpose, not grief.
“Did your mom like flowers? I mean, all moms like flowers, but I feel like this has to mean something.” Sadie points to the list on the fridge.
“Yeah, she did. We made friends with a few shop owners, and they’d sell her the leftover loose flowers for cheap when I was a kid.” A smile creeps onto my lips thinking back to those days. “She’d come in and be glowing. She was always so excited. Sometimes it was a bunch of greenery and like three flowers, but they always made her happy.”
Sadie puts a hand to her chest. “That’s such a lovely story. Ugh, we’re going to have so much fun today.”
It’s not the first time I thought it, and Sadie has even said it before, but my mom would’ve adored her. Her and Sadie would’ve been something together. It’s a bittersweet feeling, because I’d love to see them meet, but I know how happy she’d be that I found someone like her. A love like this.
Love.
The word slipped right into my thoughts; it makes my gulp past the tightness in my throat. I wish I could say it was surprising, but it’s absolutely not. Last night cemented it; if there’s one good thing about that asshole showing up uninvited, it’s that he proved she’s mine to take care of. Mine to keep happy.
I have no idea where life will take us after this, my NBA career a question mark, but I’ll do anything I can to keep her.
“Colson,” Sadie says, waving her hand trying to get my attention. “Where’d you go?”
I let out a little laugh and answer honestly. “Just daydreaming.”
Of her and me.
forty-six
Sadie
IlovethewayHarbor Blooms feels. The space is open, pastel and crisp white walls are the perfect contrast for the bright and bold flowers lining the perimeter. Maren sells premade bouquets, does delivery, and allows shoppers to build their own bouquet or arrangement.
“I’m serious,” she insists, her eyes pinning me to my seat. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life than I was that winter.” She cuts a few stems of fresh daisies that were just delivered. For now, it’s just the two of us.
My stomach tightens. I know where she’s going. I wish I didn’t, but I do.
“That bad?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
She nods, eyes fixed on the display of lilies to our left. “You weren’t just sad, Sadie. You were… gone. Like someone had turned off your lights and forgot where the switch was. Nick stole something from you that wasn’t his to take.”
The words land heavy, bruising.
I stare down into my cup, my iced coffee melting. It makes my stomach ache—physically ache—to hear her talk about that version of me. The girl who slept until noon. Who forgot to eat. Who answered everyhow are you?withfinebecause it was easier than explaining how I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled. How I was basically a depressive pit of nothing.
“I didn’t know how to help,” Maren continues quietly. “You were so small. And you’ve never been small. You’re… you.” She looks at me then, eyes bright and fierce. “You’re a light. People notice when you dim.”
My throat tightens. I swallow hard.
“It didn’t feel like dimming,” I admit. “It felt like I disappeared.” Might be a bit more honest than I planned to share, but it’s true.
