“Are you going to jump, Mer?” Peter asked they made their way to the bridge.
“Connor can’t, so I’ll stay in solidarity.”
Connor lifted his cast and gave her an apologetic look. “You sure? Go jump.”
“Nah. Tell me more about the workload at dental school. It sounds wonderfully daunting.”
Vivien and Peter shared a knowing look. “Overachievers, both of them,” she said.
“Well, he hasn’t stopped talking about her since they met on the Fourth of July, so…”
She lifted a brow and filed that little piece of juicy gossip. “Where’s Holly tonight?”
“Back in Pensacola for good,” he said.
She kind of hated the relief that washed through her. “Oh, are you…”
“Still divorced,” he said with a wry smile. “But not at odds anymore, which is all I ever wanted. Why? Were you worried?”
She slowed her step as they reached the bridge, looking up at him, vowing to never play another game with him again.
She took a breath and exhaled. “I missed you,” she said simply. “I wanted to be with you and felt I couldn’t.”
He draped an arm around her and eased her onto the step in front of him. “I missed you, too, Viv. Come on, let’s get up there.”
She climbed the few steps, feeling the strong warmth of him behind her, basking in the joy that not only had she not lost him, they felt closer than ever.
Looking down, she had to laugh.
“Why did we think it was such a big risk?” she asked.
“Because letting go of anything is a risk,” he said, guiding her over the rusted metal and wide wood planks to the center point, helping her to the edge. “And sometimes, so is holding on.”
Just then, the boom box crackled with more volume and the opening strains of “I Will Always Love You” floated up.
“Oh, Tessa.” Vivien shook her head. “Predictable is her middle name.”
“What’s yours?” he asked.
“Leigh,” she replied. “Yes, I’m Vivien Leigh. Have you met myGone With The Wind-loving mother?”
He glanced at Maggie, deep in conversation with Jo Ellen by the fire.
“Why do you want to know?” she asked.
“So that when I propose, I can do it with full authority and sound exactly like the movies.”
Her jaw dropped and she leaned way back, so far, he caught her from falling. “Peter!”
“What? We both know where this is going. I’ll wait for the right moment. Unless…now feels good.”
“Everything with you feels good,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m in no rush but that doesn’t mean I’m letting you go, Peter McCarthy. The only thing I’m letting go of is doubt, fear, and whatever has ever held me back from telling you and the world that…I love you.”
He closed his eyes on a sigh. “Finally.”
He lowered his head and kissed her just as the music hit its iconic crescendo and Whitney wailed her famous chorus.
“What are you letting go of?” she asked into the kiss.
