Page 59 of Love Me Again

Yep, there she was, at the front door, boots and coat on, arm reaching out to turn the knob. Clearly trying to be careful and quiet so no one heard her or stopped her.

“Walking around in the dark is pretty dangerous. There are wolves and bears out there.”

She didn’t turn to face him right away, didn’t drop her hand from the knob. Just kind of sighed, then he watched as she steeled herself before turning around.

Her expression was carefully neutral. “I think I’ll be all right, Boone,” she said, her voice as carefully neutral as her expression.

He shook his head. “I’ll drive you back, but first… I have something for you. Can you come upstairs?”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“I promise the something I have for you is not a euphemism.”

He watched her try to fight off a smile and fail. It made him feel like a million dollars. Like the world was opening up and everything could be right and wonderful.

Which he knew wasn’t true at all, but it was a nice feeling, if fleeting.

“Follow me up,” he said, and turned. He wanted to reach out for her. Wanted to hold her hand and lead her upstairs, but he shoved his hands into his pockets instead.

Mostly because his palms were suddenly damp. He hadn’t planned to do this. Maybe an errant thought or two had been poking at him with all the Christmas prep going on, but mostly he’d been sure this wouldn’t be well-received.

Nothing had changed on that front. It’d be better to wait until actual Christmas, but he was beginning to worry he didn’t have that long. Sure, he’d succeeded in getting her to stay one way or another for days now, but even he recognized when he was running out of time.

The deeper she got into his family, the more she felt the need to run. Of course, she also clearly felt the pull to stay.

He wished he knew how to tip the odds toward that.

They climbed the stairs. He passed Micah’s room, heard the sounds of a teenage boy clearly tossing things around in an attempt to find what he wanted. And Josie followed him.

Nerves jangled in his chest, and damn it, that was weird. He didn’t do nerves. If you didn’t have hope or expectations and just opted for the worst possible outcome, you never had to feel this way.

He opened the door to his room, stepped inside, then turned to watch her step warily into his room.

Hope soared, twined with all the nerves and…it felt infinitely worth feeling terrible if she was here. This was better than every moment since he’d left her, even if he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to make this right.

At least there was a chance, and a chance was better than spending the past nearly two years mired in the certainty he’d just failed and there was no chance to fix it.

If she refused the gift he had for her, that was okay. He had to be okay with making gestures that were refused. That was the price of…learning a lesson. Making up for what he’d lost.

No doubt Lindsay was right about Josie having her own stuff—probably abandonment issues he’d only made worse, and that was just to start. But he couldn’t just sit around and hope she somehow got over those. He had to do something to prove to her that…he was different. That he would be different.

For her.

Still, he felt unsteady and unsure of himself as he opened his closet door, rummaged around trying to find one of the few things he’d brought home from his life with her.

When he finally found it and pulled it out, it definitely looked worse for the wear. The wrapping paper was crumpled, ripped at one corner, but the bow was still affixed to the top if a little flat.

On a deep breath, he turned to face her. “I bought it before…” He sucked in a breath. Maybe he owed her the words, the acknowledgement. Maybe he owed himself. “Before the accident. I had planned to give it to you for Christmas that year. Bought it early and wrapped it in some of your fancy paper and then I hid it in your dad’s trailer, behind the bird cage.”

He didn’t miss the little shudder. She was a lover of all animals, but she’d hated that bird one of the cowboys had kept as a pet and then her father had kept when Frank had left the rodeo.

“I knew you wouldn’t snoop there.”

She didn’t so much as smile. Maybe the memory was too sad for her. He could just remember how proud he’d been of what he’d picked out. He’d been excited to give it to her. He’d talked himself out of not waiting for Christmas too many times to count.

Then, he’d left. Taking the present with him. He supposed all memories eventually went sad because they all led to him leaving.

Except they were together now.