Page 100 of The Light We Lost

Chapter Fifty-One

Nolan—Now

Everything was coming to a close.

In a few days, I’d be sleeping alone. There wouldn’t be cat hair on my clothes, nor a loofah ball thing in my shower. I wouldn’t race home from the shop each day, nor would I look out the window and find Indy kneeling on the ground, gardening. Soon her laugh would be nothing more than a memory.

I’d expected to be sad as our time ran out, overwhelmed with panic. I imagined that feeling was coming, but for now, I was steady. This was peace, I realized. I’d kept my word. I was confident that when Indy left here, she’d be okay. She’d find her way, and I couldn’t wait to hear how she flourished.

There was only one thing left for me to do.

I stepped inside Ye Olde Trusty Tavern, taking a moment to adjust to the dingy lighting. Chairs were stacked on the tables, cue sticks hung on the wall. The floor shined like it had been freshly mopped, the music was off, and the bar was empty, save for Heath.

“Wasn’t sure if you were going to show,” he said from behind the counter, an empty glass in his hand. “You change your mind?”

“I had a late start this morning.” I spared him the details, doubting he’d appreciate hearing how Indy enticed me into staying in bed longer. I was certainthe only reason she’d let me go was because she had to pick Calder up from the airport. Even then, she’d waited until the last minute, running out the front door with only one shoe on. “The bank took longer than I expected, but the money’s good to go. Once you give them the go-ahead, they’ll start getting the paperwork ready.”

He hummed, seemingly lost in his thoughts as he shined a glass. He was quiet long enough I couldn’t help but say, “Heath, I swear if you tell me you want more money—”

He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s never been about the money.” Before I could ask him why I was giving him nearly every dime I had then, he said, “I just want to make sure you’re buying it for the right reasons. Do you even know what you want to do with it?”

I closed my mouth, holding the lie in. I could tell him I planned on using it as my workspace, or hell, transforming it into a trampoline park. But I went with the truth instead. “I don’t have any solid plans,” I admitted, continuing before he could tell me the deal was off. “But I promise I’m doing it for the right reasons.”

I would’ve claimed the same thing a month ago, but it wouldn’t have been true like it was now. Before, I’d been desperate to hold on to the past. Thinking if I bought the bar, I’d somehow keep a piece of Indy and the moments we’d shared here. I hated my past, but I still clung to it, believing it would be the best I ever had. Except Indy had shown me better. Given me different, fuller memories to hold on to. I wouldn’t look back with regret and longing, but gratitude for what had been.

When Dad had refused to help me buy the bar, I’d thought it was because he didn’t believe in me. But now I understood it had nothing to do with his lack of faith in me, but the lack of faith I had in myself. He’d wanted me to work for it. In the end, Dad might’ve left money for me, but I liked to believe I’d still earned it.

Liked to believe wherever he was, he was proud of me.

Heath dipped his chin, seeming to accept my response. After telling me he’d contact his bank to start the process of selling me the bar, he asked, “So can weexpect you and Indy to come out of retirement tomorrow night to defend your title?”

I cracked a laugh. When I’d heard he was bringing back his country swing dancing competition in an effort to raise money for the school, I’d figured it was only a matter of time before he hunted me down. Some folks were bummed he was hosting it on the football field and not inside the bar, but I didn’t care. My answer remained the same no matter where it was. “Hell no.”

“Come on, it’s for a good cause!”

I waved him off. “I’d rather donate directly. I’m too old to dance.”

Indy was the only reason I’d done swing dancing in the first place, and I hadn’t done it in years—save for when I danced with Shay to piss off Brooks. I didn’t care about winning or defending a title.

I only wanted to savor my last few days with Indy.

“Alright, alright,” Heath seemed to agree. “If you’re not going to dance, fine. But at least make it up to me by stealing one of Calder’s T-shirts. Preferably a sweaty one—”

I laughed, shaking my head before I stepped out the front door. Since there wasn’t a motel in Wallowpine, Calder would be staying at my house. All of yesterday, Indy and I had cleaned out one of the bedrooms on the top floor, preparing it for him. She worried about him sleeping on a twin mattress, but I assured her he wouldn’t mind—unless he wanted me to throw him out to his adoring fans. We’d kept quiet about him staying with us, but all week folks had wandered up and down our road in search of the big shot celebrity.

As I climbed in my truck, my phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket, smirking. Well, speak of the devil. “I was just thinking about you—”

“I’m going to kill him.”

I raised my brows, a grin twitching on my lips. I could practically feel her seething through the phone. After turning on my truck, I put the call on speaker and started toward home. “He try and knock you out again?” I asked, assuming by now she and Calder were leaving the airport. “If you toss him on the side of the highway, I won’t tell. If you sweeten the deal, I might even help you hide the body.”

“Why settle for the highway? I’m going to throw him off the Grand Canyon.” I chuckled, and through the phone there was the sound of a slamming door. “Except I can’t do that. Because he didn’t show up!”

I tapped the brake on my truck and stopped on the dirt road. “He what?”

“He’s not here!”

“Are you sure?”

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