Page 155 of Return Policy
“Because I had sunflowers on my dress the night we met.”
“I mean, it started out that way, sure…” He bends down and reaches into the bag, pulling out an old picture and holding it up in front of us.
“Sunflowers,” I whisper, staring at the picture of an older man and a younger Elijah standing in front of a field with thousands of sunflowers.
“Sunflowers,” he repeats, turning his attention to me after putting the picture back in the bag. “I used to tend this field with my dad… and damn, is it beautiful.” He looks out at the field wistfully, and my hold on him tightens. “When my mom got pregnant with Abbs, she and Dad decided they wanted us to grow up surrounded by nature and started looking for land. When they visited here, the sunflowers were in full bloom.”
A soft chuckle escapes him. “Dad always said that something about those sunflowers felt like home… and that’s when he knew this was the place.” He turns toward me, taking my face in his hands. “I might’ve started calling you Sunflower as a joke. But I think it was more of a sign.” He looks up at the sky. “I think it was my dad’s way of saying he sent you for me.” Tears brim his eyes, and I wipe them away with my thumb. “The more time we spent together, the more you reminded me of home. Of the happiness I watched my parents have. Of being so in love with someone you know forsureyou’ll never let them go. That you’ll do anything for them.” My heart swells in my chest, pounding hard against my rib cage. “I call you Sunflower because you’re home… You’remyhome.”
“Home,” I whisper as a tear drops down my face. “Thefeeling, not the place…”
He wipes away the tear, kissing me tenderly. “The feelingandthe place, Sunflower.”
I smile wide, staring into his gentle eyes. “You know how my sister always called me Ladybug?” He nods slightly. “When we were at the springs, and one landed on you… I think that might have been Chloe’s way of saying you were for me too.” A weak laugh escapes my lips. “Hell, if she could've, I know she would’ve thrown up neon signs with arrows over your head, but I don’t think the universe allows that type of obviousness. So a single ladybug it was.”
“With an unlimited amount of luck.” He places his forehead on mine, and I nuzzle his nose. “Can you imagine? Our angels have been pushing us together since the day we met, and you kept pushing me away. They must’ve been very frustrated with you.” I look out at the empty sunflower field that has so many memories for the man standing next to me, and my lips fall to a frown.
“What’s wrong?” Elijah asks.
“Why don’t you ever talk about him?” He glances toward the field, his lower lip beginning to quiver. “Elijah?”
“If I don't talk about it… I can pretend it’s not real.” His glossy eyes connect with mine, and he squeezes them shut, tears sliding down his cheeks.
“Elijah…” I whisper, and his head drops to my shoulder. I rub my hand along his back as he breaks down in my arms, and my own tears fall. We sink to our knees in the dirt, and I take his face in mine. “Baby?”
He lifts his head, glistening ocean eyes boring into mine. “I’m sorry.”
“What? Stop it. You’re allowed to express how you feel. I want you to.”
“I just miss him so damn much,” he croaks out. “I keep waiting for it to stop hurting. I keep thinking if I just move forward, and I don’t think about him, or I don’t talk about him, maybe one day I’ll stop missing him.” He sniffles again and I wipe away more tears, but it’s no use. He’s finally allowed the dam to break.
Placing my palm on his cheek, I bring his tear-stained face to mine. “I understand… But that’s not how it works, baby.” He turns away, but I force his gaze back to mine. “Youlovehim. He’s yourdad.” My voice breaks on the last word. “Ignoring his death won’t help ease the ache you’re feeling here.” I flatten my palm on his pounding heart.
“Then what does?” he says in a pained whisper. “I can’t… I can’t just keep having this debilitating pain every time I think about him. Pain’s always supposed to go away. Why isn’t it going away?”
“Pain doesn’t go away all at once. It dulls until it no longer controls you.”
His eyes flick up to the sky as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck.”
“This probably sounds like shit advice, but the only thing that really helps is time… well, that and therapy.” I smile faintly. “And the more you think about him, think about all the good things in your life that arebecauseof him, your brain will get used to remembering he’s gone. And someday, you’ll be able to laugh at the memories. There will always be that dull ache in your chest from missing him, but it won’t consume you. It’ll no longer control you.”
He brings both hands to his face, brushing away the tears, then leans back. I settle next to him, and he puts an arm over my leg, tugging me against him. “I love you, Sophia. Dad would’ve loved you too.” He reaches into the bag, pulling out my sketchbook and a pencil, and hands it to me. “Draw me something?”
I smile up at him. “Gladly.”
After a Christmas Eve brunch with Jenna and Grandma Mia, we’re finally heading to Longwood. Settling in the passenger seat, I connect my phone to the Bluetooth as Elijah hauls himself up on the driver’s side foot bar.
He pauses, looking out at the farm with a wistful smile, and slaps his palm against the hood. “Tag, you’re it.”
* * *
Gorgeous farmland spans for miles as we drive towards the main highway. Even in the winter, it’s breathtaking.
I love when we drive like this. Windows down, Chris Young on the radio, and Elijah’s hand placed possessively on my thigh. If anyone asked me his love language, it is definitely, no contest, physical touch. He always has to be touching me.
A hand on the lower back when we walk through a crowd.
Holding my foot when I’m lying on the other end of the couch.
