Page 35 of Come to Me

“Love or money?” She wanted to turn and see his response. She knew from their conversation on the deck the first day he arrived that he didn’t believe in true love for himself.

“Freedom.”

She stopped, putting her hands on her hips as she shook her head. “That’s not how this game works.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care about love or money.”

She frowned. “Really?”

He rolled his shoulders. “I suppose that’s callous considering I have money. I won’t deny I like having it. But I’m not motivated by it.”

“And love?”

“You know my thoughts on that.”

She sighed and resumed hiking.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I suppose I’d choose love. I mean, money could be helpful right now, but I’d still rather have love, my family.”

They rounded a large group of boulders. The trail wove through them, requiring more concentration and effort as they navigated the last few yards of the hike.

Micki reached the top and stood, inhaling a breath, and lifting her head to sun. “Well? What do you think?” The mountains rolled southward with a blue hue giving them their name. Westward lay the Shenandoah valley, shimmering in lush green.

Patrick stood next to her taking in the scenery. “It’s lovely.”

“That’s not all. Turn round.” She slipped her arm through his as she maneuvered him to look eastward.

“Another valley.”

“Technically it’s the piedmont. We’re on a ridge dividing the state between the two. It’s like being on top of the world.”

He turned his gaze on her. “You have an amazing take on the world.”

“You mean for being a flat broke country girl?” She smirked.

He shook his head. “For anyone. You see meaning where I saw emptiness. Beauty in vastness. You find joy in the midst of difficulty. I’m shamed by it.”

“Shame?” She hated how something that was supposed to help him find perspective was bringing negative emotions.

“I have so much more than you and wallow in my misery. You?—”

“First, all you have more than me is money and I think we’ve agreed that money isn’t everything. Second, it’s that whole glass half empty or half full thing.” She stepped closer then—a mere breath away—and lifted her hand to rest lightly against his cheek. “But I think you appreciate more than you let on. Even I get down sometimes.”

“You’re giving me more credit than I deserve.”

“I don’t think so. There’s life in you, Patrick. You just need to let go of the guilt.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

She laughed. “Well, if you, a shrink, can’t do it, what hope is there for the rest of us?” She rose up on her tiptoes. “I see you, Dr. Patrick Andres. You can’t hide forever.” She pressed her lips against his. She hadn’t intended to kiss him, but being so close to him, feeling the ache in his soul and wanting to soothe it, she went with instinct.

The kiss wasn’t long or deep, and yet, it was full. As they pulled apart slightly, Patrick rested his forehead against hers.

"Thank you," he murmured.

“For kissing you? Of course. Happy to do it.”

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