Page 70 of I Love a Good Challenge

My hesitation gives me away.

“Right.” Lily’s voice is thick with emotion, her lip between her teeth with worry.

“I didn’t say I was leaving Birch Borough, but with Rafe getting married and the extra space opening up, I wanted my mom to take my apartment. It’s on the first floor, so it’s a good fit for her at this phase of life.” I clear my throat. “At the time, it felt like moving would be a win for you too.”

Lily lifts her chin, the bottom of her jaw quivering. “So, all of these challenges . . .?” She trails off. “And where will you go?”

I don’t answer because my heart hopes the answer is obvious. I’ve only ever wanted to be with her. Anywhere with her. “I’ve been looking in Nashville.”

“You’ve been looking in . . .” she repeats, her rib cage rising and falling rapidly. “And the new law firm?”

I sigh. “I’ve been thinking for some time about a way I can use my experience to help local artists and musicians, the ones who can’t afford legal action after having their intellectual property violated or stolen, who don’t have people to fight for them to get the best recording deals, or someone to review their contracts. I hope I can help others like I’ve helped Rafe.”

She nods slowly and turns to walk back to the table where Mom and Uncle John are waiting politely in front of our just-delivered plates.

“Lily, please. Are we . . . okay?” I reach for her.

She fidgets with her dress, and I know there’s more to her reaction, more that we’ll need to figure out together.

“It’s your birthday dinner, not the time to talk about your new potential address,” Lily states matter-of-factly. “But, G, this isn’t over.”

My heart leaps when her hand stretches out for mine. I take it, and we walk back to rejoin my family. As we settle in and conversation and laughter take over the table again, I’m flooded with relief. In the back of my mind, though, I feel as if I am still waiting for the floor to give out from under me.

∞∞∞

“All this stuff should be banned,” Lily exclaims, a look of horror on her face as she picks up various flavored chip bags as we move through the grocery store. Because this is a small town, they’re closing in ten minutes, and Lily is taking her sweet time. From the looks the cashier is throwing our way from the register, I wonder if my date is doing it on purpose.

Dinner was enjoyable, but my mind was racing after our rushed conversation in the corner. When Lily went to the bathroom, I called off any plans my mother had for dessert and singing “Happy Birthday.” I wasn’t feeling festive anymore with the weight of the impending decisions ahead of me. We managed to see a bit of the art displayed, but we left after an exhibition of self-portraits that left me more confused than inspired.

Afterward, not wanting to leave her with unspoken words still hovering between us, we ended up back in Birch Borough for a riveting evening finale of picking up items we both need for the week. By the time we leave the store, we’re practically pushed through the front door as it locks behind us.

“Sheesh,” Lily mutters. She looks at me. It’s the first time she has looked at me in a while, her eyes seeming to wander everywhere but my face . . . again. I hate it.

She motions for me to follow her down the street, and minutes later, I find us at the back door of Sparrow’s Beret. Lily unlocks it and ushers us in, only turning on a few lights to keep it dim.

Moving to the industrial refrigerator on the wall, she pulls out a pastry box and sets it on the counter between us. Candles are taped to the top. She pulls them off, grabbing a lighter from a nearby shelf.

“Open it,” she instructs with a grin.

And when I do, there, in all its glory, sits a cake. From the smell of it, there’s peanut butter and marshmallow and some sort of chocolate hidden inside.

“You remembered,” I say softly. “It’s perfect.”

Her eyes shine at the compliment, and I see her gaze finally flit to my mouth. She lights the candles, and I let the light of the flame captivate my vision.

“Before you make a wish,” Lily begins, “I know why you didn’t tell me.”

“Lily, I was going to—”

“No, it’s okay.” With gentle pressure, her hand alights on my arm, a sad smile lining the edges of her lips. “You need to believe that I won’t do what I’ve done to you before. And I don’t blame you.”

She’s right, of course. We’re rebuilding our trust, but as much as I love her, I don’t know how I could ever live without her again.

The only words I can get out are, “I hope we figure it out.” Because I want this relationship to work, but trust takes time. She slips her hand into my palm, and I hold it tightly.

“Okay, make a wish before the place burns down, or the wax gets into the icing.” She shudders with a laugh.

When I close my eyes, all I see and feel is Lily’s presence surrounding me. Every word, every moment adds up to this. I’m content to hold her in my arms. Getting old with her would be a privilege. She sparks in me the desire to be open and to dream a little more. When I’m with her, I don’t want to take life so seriously. I know I could happily love her for the rest of my life, even when it hurts.

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