But it’s Wyatt who always calms me. ‘What will be will be’ is his favorite saying. And even though it makes mybrothers call him ‘Doris Day with an emoji fetish’, he’s right.
It’s not a life sentence. It’s just part of life.
And weirdly, with every day that passes I’m becoming okay with that.
As the ferry gets closer to the island, we walk to Hudson’s car. He gets in then looks at me quizzically as I hesitate. “You coming?” he asks.
“You know what, I think I’ll walk once we’re docked,” I tell him. “It’s a beautiful day.”
A smile pulls at his lips. “Yeah, it is.”
He doesn’t comment that it’s a damn long walk from Main Street to the hotel. Because we both know that’s not where I’m going. I’m heading somewhere closer. To a little shop I know, with the most beautiful owner.
And along the way, I’m going to soak in everything that’s beautiful about this world.
The ramp clangs open and a dozen engines start. I wave goodbye to Hudson, then head over to the foot passenger exit, feeling so damn happy that I get to spend time here. With Sadie. With my family.
If it wasn’t for my eyesight, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be traveling, or in Chicago, or playing in a poker tournament somewhere in Europe.
Maybe it was meant to be. My diagnosis brought me home. And to Sadie. Somehow that makes my heart feel light.
There’s a ‘closed’ sign on the bookshop, but the door is ajar, so I push it open and step inside. And there, behind the counter, in a pair of short overalls, thick red hair pulled into a bun, tendrils escaping down her neck, is the woman I love.
For a second she doesn’t see me. So I take that momentto look at her, taking her in. The way her lashes sweep down as she writes something on her notepad, the way her lips purse as she reads it back.
The way she’s better than any piece of art I’ve ever seen in my life.
And then she looks up.
“Oh.” Her hand flutters to her chest as our eyes meet. “You’re here.”
I grin. “I am.”
“They let you go?”
“Apparently I’m the most annoying patient they’ve ever had.” I shrug.
Sadie laughs softly. “I can believe that.”
I roll up the sleeves of my shirt. “So what needs doing?” I ask her, looking around the shop. It’s mostly back in order. There are a few piles of books on the floor and some empty shelves, but I have no doubt the place will be ready to open on Saturday.
“Huh?” She frowns, not getting my question.
“I’m here to help. Get this place ready to open again. What can I do?”
She puts down the pencil. Walks around the counter, and gives me a pointed look.
“You can go home,” she tells me. “And rest. Because you’ve had a serious head injury and I don’t want you going back to the hospital any time soon.”
I reach for her hand, my fingers curling around it. And God, it feels good to touch her. “You want me to go to bed?”
“Yes.”
My smile widens. “Only if you come with me.”
“Zach! You were hurt.” She shakes her head but there’s no hiding the smile on her lips.
“Not that hurt,” I say, pulling her closer, until ourbodies are touching. And it feels like coming home. If coming home means touching the woman you can’t live without. “Come with me. Then tomorrow we can finish up here. And on Saturday we have a breakfast date.” I kiss her softly. “I want you to meet my family.”
