Page 66 of Buried Dreams

I exhale and make my way over to my house. One conversation down, one more to go, I think to myself when I pull up to my house and see the lights on, and I smile knowing she’s inside. I walk up the steps and open the front door, listening to her moving around in the house as I kick off my boots.

I find her in the kitchen, putting on the kettle. “Hey,” I say, and she looks over her shoulder at me. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts, and her hair is wet.

“Hey, I came over and took a shower while I waited for you. I was going to shower when I got home, but I ended up uploading videos to our social media. Then I was making the last-minute things for this Saturday.” She turns. “Hope that’s okay.”

“We need to talk,” I say, pulling out the stool and sitting down with the island between us.

“Uh-oh,” she reacts, and I can see she’s nervous, “that doesn’t sound good.” I put my hands on the counter. “Did dinner not go well?”

“It went amazing,” I say the truth. “Would have liked it if you were there, but next time.”

“You guys should have alone time,” she says, and it does something to me that she understands that.

“I spoke to Karla tonight,” I share, and she walks to the island between us. She puts her hands on the island, and I can see her nervously tapping it. “Told her I was going to introduce you to Saige this weekend.”

“I’ve already met her.” She says the same thing Karla said.

“Yes, but she thought you were my friend. I want to tell her you’re more than that.”

“Isn’t that rushing things?” She looks in my eyes, and I feel the crushing on my chest, thinking she’s already made up her mind about when she is leaving, and she hasn’t told me.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” I retort. “Soon the bakery is going to be done. It’s done already, but soon your mother is going to be back full force. Where does that leave you?”

“Funny you should ask. I had a conversation with my mother today about that,” she states, and I hold my breath. I’m bracing for what is to come, bracing for her to say the words she’s leaving. Bracing for how I’m going to live without her again, but this time knowing I will never, ever love another woman the way I love her. She’s it for me. “We discussed the bakery and how I want to continue with the food truck.” I can’t even swallow, the lump is growing bigger and bigger in my throat. “And, well, I’ve decided I’m going to stay.” I let out the breath I was holding. “I know this might be a lot for you. That it’s too fast and whatever. But you weren’t the deciding factor.”

“Did you factor me in there at all?”

“Well, of course I did,” she says softly. “I just didn’t want you to?—”

“To what?” I snip. “Hope you were staying for me. For us.”

“Brock,” she says, and I shake my head.

“I came home tonight and saw the light on, and when I walked in, I heard you in here doing whatever it is you were doing. I’ve never come home to anyone in this house. When I don’t have Saige, the house is dead and quiet. It is eerily quiet, as if the house is standing still. With you in it, it gives it life.”

“I’m making tea,” she announces.

I smile at her answer, my heart hammering in my chest. “So you are okay with meeting Saige as more than my friend?” I ask, and she snorts. “I’m going to pick her up on Friday and tell her we are having dinner with you. Then I’ll tell her I’m in love with you.”

She gasps. “That we were in love a long time ago, and I did things that stopped us from being together.”

“Don’t do that.” She shakes her head.

“Tell her what, that I’m in love with you?” She shakes her head again.

“No, about what happened in the past. She’s going to be confused enough with sharing you, and then you throw in that you loved me before and everything that happened. I don’t want her to ever know, to be honest.”

“She’s going to know eventually,” I say. “The town is small, and the gossip is larger than life.”

“Yes, but we don’t have to feed into it,” she argues.

“Okay, fine.” I hold up my hand.

“You love me?” she asks softly, the sound of the kettle whistling behind her.

“I do,” I confirm.

“You ever stop loving me?” She doesn’t move to the stove.

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