It's pretty much the sweetest thing she could have said and makes me want to reassure her I have no plans to leave.
The truth of that hits me, and I feel nothing but content. I don’t want to leave this town, or these people, or Beckett. But Kat isn’t the person who needs to hear that first.
“Good thing I happen to think you’re cool, too. And I’d love to spend more time together.”
After grinning like fools at each other, Kat and I eat lunch, and the conversation flows a lot more easily. For all the times I’ve visited Beckett, I never let myself get close to his siblings. Another side effect of those damn walls I kept around my heart. Another thing I want to change.
All too soon, it’s time for me to go if I want any time to work on the mural today. And since my goal is to show it to Beckett this weekend, I have to get to it.
Standing at Kat’s doorway, I fidget with my hands, not sure what to do. Do we hug? Or do I just leave? Kat takes care of the decision for me, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around me.
“I’m really glad we did this. Thank you.”
I hug her back tightly. “Shouldn’t I be thanking you?”
“Let’s just mutually say thanks and move on before we fall off the rails with small talk again.”
That makes us both laugh as we release the embrace.
“Okay, deal.”
“Lily and I are going to a yoga class at my cousin Serena’s studio next Monday if you want to join us.”
“Sounds great.”
With one last hug and promises to make more plans soon, I leave Kat’s house feeling like I’m walking on air.
All the pieces I never knew I needed in life are falling into place around me. And for once, I feel completely at ease, sitting back and letting it all happen.
Once I’m home, I change quickly into my painting clothes and decide to walk to the community center. I’m about halfway there when my phone rings. Pulling it out of my pocket, rolling my eyes at how excited I am that it might be Beckett calling, I look at the call display. Instead of his name, I see the name of Grandpa’s lawyer.
“Hi Barkley,” I say, answering the call as I sit down on a convenient bench nearby. “What can I do for you?”
My heart is in my throat. Aside from an email or two, I haven’t heard from Barkley Soto since I left Manitoba. And in the back of my mind, there’s always the question whether he’ll discover that my marriage to Beckett is basically a sham. Sure, it’s legal, but is legal enough? Logically, I know it is. I know it meets the requirements of Grandpa’s will, even if it is sneaky. We didn’t falsify any documents, only our feelings. At least, our feelings at the time.
“Hello, Camilla. I hope you’re doing well out on the coast?” he asks politely.
“Yes, I am, thank you. But please, call me Cam,” I respond stiffly. I start to worry at my lip, chewing at it until I remember Beckett’s possessive comment about me doing that. I release it with a small smile.
“Right, yes, sorry. I wanted to connect directly to let you know a letter is in the mail, and a copy has been sent digitally, confirming the release of Wilbert’s trust to you. The money should be in your account within the next hour, although the official paperwork confirming this will obviously be a day or two behind.”
It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, as the reality of the situation would have brought me to my knees.
It’s done. The money Grandpa wanted me to have is mine. A flash of guilt over the subterfuge we had to go through to get it hits me, but fast on its heels comes another revelation.
What we did may have started out as a lie, but it’s become my new truth. Grandpa’s stipulation did, in fact, lead to what he had hoped. It led to Beckett and I being together, which, in turn, led to me admitting my feelings for him and tearing down the protective walls around my heart.
It led to me realizing I’m not alone and I never will be, as long as I have Beckett in my life.
Barkley is still talking, and I make myself tune back in just in time to hear him say, “I know your grandfather loved you very much, and he would be so pleased that you and Beckett have found love and happiness together.”
That is absolutely true. Grandpa always loved Beckett. I guess he saw something that I didn’t, until now.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say. We exchange a few more pleasantries, then hang up. I know I need to get to the mural, but my mind is racing.
Beckett has said all along that I have the chance to start over. To create the life I want for myself. That’s why he offered to marry me, why he’s supported me all along. So that I can have the opportunity to finally live my dreams.
And my dreams include him, this town, and an art studio.
