I want you to do what makes you happy. But I’m scared. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I don’t trust that I’m enough to make you stay.
I sent it before I could second-guess myself. The answer wouldn’t come until tomorrow morning, but at least I’d taken action. Now, all I could do was wait.
But when I wanted to put my phone down, it buzzed, and my heart skipped a beat. It could only be one person.
You already are enough. You’ve always been. I’m scared too. Let’s figure it out together.
And for once in my life, I didn’t think before responding.
On my way.
I threw on jeans and a hoodie, stepped into my boots, and didn’t bother with gloves. The air outside was sharp, biting at my exposed skin as I walked. But I didn’t care. I needed that sting. I needed to feel every footstep, every heartbeat. The town was asleep, but a single light glowed in Fraser’s front window. He was waiting. I climbed the porch steps, heart hammering in my throat, and knocked once.
The door opened almost immediately. He was in sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt that clung to the lines of his chest and arms. His beard was slightly askew, like he’d run his hands through it too many times, and his eyes were tired but open. Willing.
He said nothing. Just stepped back and let me in. I walked past him into the warmth of his home, then turned to face him, still standing by the door.
“I w-wrote. I wrote the ch-chapter.”
Fraser blinked. “The one about after?”
I nodded. “All of it. M-marcus. The day he d-died. The silence after. And then…” I took a breath. “And then the p-p-part where I met you.”
Something cracked in his face. Not pain, not joy, but something deeper. Like walls falling down.
“I’m s-sorry,” I said. “Not for being scared. That p-part’s always going to be there. But for l-l-letting fear make the decision for m-me. For p-pushing you away when all you w-wanted to do was stay.”
Fraser didn’t speak. He crossed the hallway in three slow steps, watching me like I might disappear if he blinked. His palm cupped the side of my face like I was something precious, something worth holding carefully. I leaned into it without thinking, my whole body leaning toward his gravity.
“You didn’t push me away,” he said, voice low and rough with emotion. “You were trying to protect yourself. I get that. God, Calloway, of course I get that.”
I closed my eyes, breathing in the cedar-and-coffee scent of him. That grounding scent that had become synonymous with safety. “I don’t want to l-live like that anymore. I’ve d-done nothing but protect myself for s-s-seven years, and all it got me was b-being alone in a house full of b-books and silence.”
His thumb brushed over the corner of my mouth. “You’re not alone anymore.”
“I know,” I said, my voice cracking like thin ice. “That’s what s-scares me.”
He gave a soft laugh, the sound curling around the space between us like warmth. “Me too. But I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”
I opened my eyes. His were searching mine, offering space. Space to step forward if I wanted, or not, if I didn’t.
I stepped forward.
He exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath, and then we were kissing. Not a firework or a storm. Not this time. Just something quiet and certain.
Something that said,I’m here.
I’m staying.
18
FRASER
Thanksgiving morning dawned cold and bright, the kind of day that felt like frost, family time, and football. Inside Sunshine Corner, it was warm with the scent of turkey, roasting vegetables, and fresh bread.
Ennio Frant, the owner and chef, had opened the restaurant for us, donating his own time as well. He was a slender guy with an open smile and an infectious energy. Ennio was everywhere at once—chopping, seasoning, laughing, telling people what to do. His partner Marnin hovered nearby, pretending to be disgruntled but smiling every time Ennio swatted him away from the pumpkin pies.
I’d been worried about who was paying for all of the food, but we’d received a generous donation from the Banner twins, Forestville’s most famous residents. They were former supermodels who were now retired, and they loved sponsoring local projects, Ennio had assured us. Guilt assuaged.
