Page 113 of Sand in My Boots

“I can even arrange for cheeseburgers in this paradise.”

“With steak fries?” I wonder hopefully, playing along.

He licks his lips, though it’s not only because of the food conversation. “All the steak fries you could eat.”

My feet shuffle inches closer. “I do like steak fries.”

“Should have led with the steak fries.” There’s a hitch in his breath. “I owe you an apology, Juliana. I⁠—”

On my tiptoes, I put my finger over his lips. “I’m not saying you don’t, but I’m saying it can wait.” I fall back down on flat feet. “Maybe you don’t need a shower, but want to join me anyway?”

I hold my breath. It’s kinda bold, especially since he’s been here all of ten minutes and we have lots to discuss.

Cameron doesn’t miss a beat, proving whatever this is between us has merit. “Only if I can choose my own towel from the drawer.”

An answer I wasn’t expecting elicits my loud chortle. It’s cathartic and exactly what I need to clear the bad mood I’ve been in since he left.

“That can be arranged. You know where they are. I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

Needing a second to catch my breath and compose myself, I scurry away and slip into the bathroom. My eyes catch my reflection in the mirror. It’s a horrible sight, except for the smile plastered on my lips. One that won’t fade soon.

Three weeks later, I’m back at my condo. There’s a different energy here than weeks ago. A finality.

The movers came last week and packed up and removed the big stuff to put in storage. Only a few boxes remain—the last of my things to ship to Magnolia Cay, South Carolina.

I stand in the empty space, taking in my last few moments of the place I called home for two years. It’s served me well, but it’s time. It’s time to pass the torch to someone else.

It’s bittersweet only because when I leave, I’m also leaving Georgia, the state I’ve called home for all thirty-two years of my life. Moving into the condo, I left the nest, a home I loved for so many years, but I didn’t stray far. The house I grew up in—and my parents—were ten minutes away. Knowing they were so close gave me peace of mind.

Now, things are different. Geographically, Magnolia Cay’s not far—an hour flight or a five-hour car ride—but it’s a change. However, it’s a great trade-off to have Cameron daily.

“Cutie, where you at?”

Speak of the devil himself.

“In my bedroom.”

“We need to get on the road if we’re going to make the flight.”

“Right.”

The flight that will take me to my new home. Why am I so emotional about this? Why am I having such a hard time saying goodbye to a temporary home? A place I never envisioned spending more than a few years? Especially when I’m going somewhere better.

So. Much. Better.

Paradise.

It truly is.

He slides behind me, wrapping me up in his muscular arms from the back. Kissing my cheek, he wonders, “Are you ready?”

“Yes. But no.”

“Why no? We talked about this already. You can take my side of the bed.” I swear I hear his eyes rolling in his head. But it’s exactly what I need to break this funk.

“I’m not attached to anything here. Not one thing. Yet, it’s like I can’t say goodbye. Even to go with you to paradise. Weird, right?”

“Nostalgia’s a funny thing. You never know when or where it’s going to hit.”