Page 112 of Rewrite Our Story

“What if she doesn’t want to move back to Sutten?” I ask, finally voicing my deepest concern. I know we talked about making this work for now, but we never talked about where we’d settle down. I don’t know where her head is at, if she’d want to move here forever or if she truly sees herself living in the city for good.

“Then you’ll tell your old man and your sister goodbye and you’ll follow her anywhere.”

I stare at him for a few moments at a total loss for words. I don’t know what to say. There’s no clear answer on what to do here except for one thing—I need to go to Mare. We’ll figure everything else out, and knowing that I won’t be letting my dad down—this ranch down—if I leave is all I needed.

“You sure about this?” I ask, standing up. I fix the hat on my head, already thinking about if there'll be any flights available tonight. I’ll probably have to wait until tomorrow, but it’s still sooner than I was expecting.

Maybe I could even surprise her. Do a redo of the last time I went to Chicago.

Dad stands up, rounding his desk until he puts his hands on my shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Follow your heart, son. All the rest of life’s bullshit we’ll figure out later, okay?”

Breaking down, I cry. I cry because for the first time since Mom died, I feel like I have my dad back. My arms wrap around him. For a few seconds we hug, not needing any further words.

I pull away, taking a deep breath and getting my shit back together.

Dad pats me on the shoulder a final time. “Let me know if you need a ride to the airport tomorrow.”

59

MARE - PRESENT

My eyes are burningfrom staring at a computer screen for so long. I’m so close to the end, to finishing this book that I can’t stop. My fingers ache and I can’t remember the last time that I ate, but none of it matters because the words won’t stop flowing.

I take a deep breath, blinking a few times to try and get my eyes to focus. I’m at the ending of the book, writing the second to last chapter before the epilogue. I’ve been staring at a screen so long that tears burn at my eyes from the brightness of the screen.

This story is taking everything out of me in the best possible way. I type and type until I feel like I need a five minute break to collect myself before continuing.

I look around my room, wincing at how messy it is. I haven’t cleaned it in God knows how long. There are protein bar wrappers on the floor from when I’ve tried giving my body some kind of sustenance. My eyes land on my suitcase. It’s been a couple of months since I’ve been in Sutten yet I still haven’t fully unpacked. I thought if I kept it shut, only opening the suitcase to grab another one of Cade’s shirts, that I’d preserve the smell of him longer.

I slide off my bed, my knees cracking from sitting in the same position writing for hours. Crouching to my knees, I unzip the suitcase and open it slightly, trying to find another one of Cade’s shirts.

I don’t see anything in the tiny hole I’ve created. So I unzip it a little farther. There’s no way I’ve already made it through the entire stock I stole from Cade.

Or maybe I have.

My stomach drops at the thought. I just have a few more chapters. Probably only days until I can go back to Sutten to see Cade after finishing this book. I just need one more shirt—a few more days with his scent—before we’ll be together again.

Not caring about being careful anymore, I unzip the suitcase fully and throw it open. I sigh in relief when I find one final T-shirt left. It’s an old one from a 5K that Cade did one year while in Sutten. It’s worn and has the perfect softness. My hands reach for the fabric, pulling it out of the suitcase and to my nose.

Inhaling, I relish in the smell of him. It surrounds me, allowing me to pretend, if only for a few moments, that he was here in this room with me. When my eyes finally flutter open, I find an old copy ofOur Storyin the bag.

I set the T-shirt aside and reach for the book. It’s worn and well-loved. Like it had been read cover to cover many times.

I open to the first page. Stamped neatly is a line that saysSutten Mountain Book Exchange If Lost Please Return To… My fingers run over the neatly printed name on the line.

Linda Jennings.

Tears well in my eyes from the sight of her familiar handwriting. It’s not lost on me how worn this book is. It’s clear she read it a lot. There are tabs hanging out the side and pages that look to be dog-eared. I turn through the pages, tears falling down my cheeks as I read the little notes she’d left in the book.

I shift, bringing the book to my chest as I get comfortable. An envelope slips from between the pages, falling into my lap with a softthud.

My breath catches when I see my name printed across the front.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, staring at my name in Linda’s handwriting.

My heartbeat picks up as I slide my finger under the flap of the envelope. There’s a small tearing sound as I open it as carefully as I can. I don’t know what’s inside, or when it was written, but I want to preserve anything I can from Linda.

A piece of paper is nicely folded inside. I carefully unfold it, a lump forming in my throat when I realize it’s a letter from Linda to me.

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