Page 114 of Born to Make You Smile

I swallowed, putting down the Beanie and jar on the grass. “Can I help you here, in the garden?”

“Sure.” He moved close to me. He smelled of sweat and the outdoors. The combination made me weak with need. To hold him. To kiss him. “You can dig holes before I put the plants and seeds in.”

He handed me the small shovel. “You’re all moved out?”

“Pretty much. Joshua helped. We got rid of a lot of stuff. Almost everything.”

He nodded. “Have you met the new owners?”

“No. But my real estate agent told me they’ll be tearing down the house.”

“Oh God. No,” he said, devastated. “You can’t be serious.”

I continued digging a small hole. “It is what it is. I expected it. The house was in bad shape. It’s much, much older than yours.”

When Shirley had informed me of the new owner’s plans to tear it down, I couldn’t help but break down and cry. I still wasn’t sure how I would deal with the house being reduced to nothing.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.

“It’s difficult, but I’m dealing with everything. I’m in therapy now, so it’s been helping.”

His brows rose. “Wow. Therapy. That's very good.”

“I needed it. Clearly, I had a lot of issues. You know. From my mother. And my father. Deep-rooted issues I had to sort through—still sorting through,” I corrected. “They obviously haven’t gone away overnight.”

A huge revelation was the guilt I’d held on over my mom’s death. If I would have known about her chronic headaches, I could have done something. But she held her health issues back from me. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she didn’t want to burden me with worry. My therapist helped me realize I was doing the same thing, with my friends, with Gavin. I tried to keep my problems to myself, and in the end, everyone suffered. Especially those who cared about me.

I watched as Gavin placed a sprouted plant into the small hole in the soil. It was bright green, the stem thin and the leaves were large, resembling spades.

“What plant is that?” I asked.

He turned to me. “Green beans. I grew them from seedlings in my basement greenhouse. They’re doing quite well already.”

“Nice.” I smiled.

“Those are tomatoes, red peppers, carrots, cucumbers, and courgettes,” he said, pointing at various areas of the garden. “Herbs in the far-left corner.”

“Looks amazing. I can’t wait to taste everything.” I nodded, smiling. “It seems it’s going to be a fruitful year.”

I hoped it was a metaphor for us. Our life.

The air became thick with silence.

“I miss you,” I finally blurted.

He grinned, removing his gloves. “I miss you too. You have no idea. Work just isn’t the same without you. Without your smile.”

“Look, I’m so sorry. For everything. For lying. For hurting you. I should have swallowed my pride and come to you for help in the first place. I shouldn't have gone behind your back and hid everything away. It was wrong and immature of me. I know Imessed everything up. And I'm still a work in progress. But I don't want to lose you forever. I can't do this on my own. I need you.”

He simply nodded as I spoke.

“If you're ready to have me, I'd like to come back. To work. To you. To build your trust again. And I'd like to take you up on the offer to live with you. If the offer still stands. I want you to take care of me. To spoil me. Rotten.”

Gavin stood there, staring. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. I swallowed and paced on my feet, worried I still wasn’t enough for him.

“But if you still think I'm not ready,” I added, “I'll keep trying. Because I love you more than anything in this world.”

“Come here. Right now,” he ordered.

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