That was followed by another with nothing more than a photo, not of Lola and me together like the ones before, but of the barn bursting into flames. The image was taken fromsomewhere on the fringes of the property. My hair's been standing on end ever since, skin crawling with unease, and my head has been pounding all day from a lack of sleep and my constant panic from last night.
Lola’s tucked into the corner of the couch, a book three inches from her face, when I get inside, an involuntary smile stretching my lips at just the sight of her.
“Maybe you should use that health insurance for an ophthalmology appointment,” I joke.
She dog-ears the book and sets it on the end table.
“In case you weren’t aware, Ryder Lockhart, this is America. Health insurance doesn’t include your eyeballs or your teeth,” she says with a light chuckle.
“I know, Lols. I’ve been in this country thirty-four years. I got you vision and dental too,” I say, ruffling her hair and stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl beside her.
“Well, aren't you just the most thoughtful little peach?” she says, clearly imitating Lemmon’s accent.
“You know, I’ve wondered my whole life if that voice of hers was a choice because I’ve met her daddy, and he doesn’t sound a lick like that,” I muse.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s intentional or not. It’s annoying.”
“That’s a fact I can’t deny. Now,” I say, moving the popcorn bowl and dragging her into my lap, “how about we move your things into our room and go on a drive later?”
Chapter Fifty-Six
DRUNK AS A SKUNK
SATURDAY, JUNE 21
“You can haveany drawers and closet space you want. Take your pick, darlin’.”
Ryder tugs open the top drawer of the dresser and starts emptying his clothing before I can say otherwise. “Ry, I basically live in leggings andyourt-shirts. I don’t need much room.”
“I want this to feel as much your space as it does mine. Please, Lols. Split half of everything with me, yeah?” he asks, his eyes crinkled at the corners with an earnest expression, silently pleading with me to give in.
And of course, I do. “Sure, Ry, whatever you want,” I say with a chuckle, sidling up to him and bumping him out of my way with my hip. My fingers curl around the intricate brass handles of the antique wooden chest of drawers, yanking the second drawer from the top open.
My heart stops in my chest for a beat before galloping wildly at the contents of the drawer. I can’t pull my eyes away to meet his eyes. “Ry,” I breathe out, shock rippling through me as I reach inside to pick one up.
“I used to keep them on the mantle, but when I knew youwere moving in, I thought it’d be best if I hid them until you’d gotten used to the idea of how in love I’ve always been with you.” I finally drag my eyes away from the delicate paper petals littering the drawer to peer up at my husband’s chiseled face, his bright eyes swirling with adoration.
“After all these years, you kept them?Allof them?” I ask, my voice strained as I hold back the tears threatening to fall. The origami flowers I’d made him for his birthday each year, and most recently, this April, are all here, each one in near-pristine condition.
He’s been holding on to hope for a future together for longer than evenhemight've realized.
“Mind if I put these on the mantle where they belong, now that I’ve spilled the beans?” he asks with a lighthearted chuckle.
“Of course, Ry. Let’s get these in some water,” I joke, plucking them gently from the drawer and carrying them to the mantle, Ryder’s hands full of the ones I couldn’t carry.
It doesn’t take long before we’ve got our room filled with my things, and then we’re in his truck for a drive.
The music is so loud I wouldn’t be able to hear my own thoughts if I wanted to. And right now,I don’t.My mind keeps dredging up reminders of all the hard work I’d put into that barn, my studio, just to see it burning down around me last night.
The damage wasn’t completely damning, but it’ll still take time to fix. Luckily, Ryder had the building insured, but the claims adjuster isn’t working until Monday, so there’s no use dwelling on it until then.
After Ryder helped me shuffle our things around, we each got a text that had me crawling out of my skin. Text messages are one thing, butphotosof us togetherinsideour home? That’s something I’ve grown tired of already, and instead of lighting a fire under my ass to put a stop to it, I want to run away for the night. We can figure the rest out tomorrow.
Ryder has the windows rolled down enough that the wind blows through the truck, but not enough that my hair is a complete mess.
He’s got Callum Scott playing, and he’s been singing the entire car ride down this long highway.We have no plans for where we’re going; we’re driving until we find somewhere to stop or turn around.
The sun is starting to set, the sky itself a baby blue, but the thick clouds overhead are a bright-bubblegum pink, and if not for the low hum of anxiety simmering in my chest and the way my gut feels a little twisty, I’d be completely at peace right now.
