Page 30 of Sunsets & Slow Dances

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Sure thing,” she said with a nod.

I headed out the back, and when the sunlight hit my face, the warmth of its rays took the edge off the crisp January morning.

The conversation I had with Elaine played over and over as I headed to the address on the sticky note. As grateful as I felt for the insight, it only left me feeling even more conflicted over what the right decision was. If Chloe didn’t want to be with me, the last thing I wanted to do was force her after all she’d been through. She should have the support and care that she needed.I wanted her to be in a place she felt comfortable with people she loved, where she could thrive.

To be fair, over the past week, she seemed to be very comfortable and happy with Buzz, Matty, and my mom. She rode Shadow every day. She and Matty played board and video games every evening. And she and my mom spent at least an hour in the kitchen together each night preparing dinner. She had easily formed a bond with each of them individually and even as a group. At dinner she spoke to everyone but me. When she did say anything to me, it was clear she was only doing it because she had to.

Reagan was right. It would be better if I made a decision sooner rather than later. If there were a rule book for this, it would be easier. I wanted to do the right thing for her; I just had no clue what the right thing was.

Dirt kicked up on either side of the wheels as I turned down a back road and drove up to an old two-story farmhouse with a front porch, a screened-in sunroom on the side, and a green roof that looked familiar. I was sure I’d been out here before, but I couldn’t put my finger on when. I was racking my brain trying to flip through my rolodex of memories as I parked and stepped out of my truck.

Before I even stepped foot inside, I could see that the gutters needed to be repaired, the roof looked like it had seen better days, and the paint was chipping off the siding. I walked up the creaky steps and noted on the estimate that the porch would need to be replaced. The wood was rotted and replacing a few boards wouldn’t do the job. The entire thing would need to be torn down and rebuilt.

As I approached the front door, I heard music coming from the house. I lifted my hand and knocked twice before turning my attention to the estimate sheet and marking down the gutters and chipped paint.

I heard several loud barks that sounded like they were coming from a little dog before the door opened. “Sorry about that, I?—”

I lifted my head from the clipboard as her words trailed off, and I stared in stunned silence. I couldn’t speak. Nadia was standing in front of me with her hair up in a messy bun piled on top of her head, wearing a pair of baggy sweats, and a hoodie.

Her eyes widened, and her perfect, pouty lips parted, but no sound came out.

A week ago, I’d seen her from ten feet away, across her classroom, and when I was in the car and she was on the sidewalk at pick-up, but now only a foot separated us. My body immediately responded to being this close to her. My pulse raced, my mouth watered, the tiny hairs on my arms stood up, my chest ached, and my head spun.

As I stared down at her, I could see that certain things about her had changed over the past ten years. The features of her face weren’t quite so rounded; her cheekbones were slightly more defined, making her eyes appear even larger. Her lips looked even fuller than they’d been in my memory. She was breathtaking. That wasn’t hyperbole. I was finding it difficult to breathe.

Another bark sounded, snapping me out of the trance I’d fallen under. I glanced down and saw a pug snorting and barking at my shins.

“Hi.” I squatted down to pet his head and tried to inhale.

“Peanut, sit.”

“Hi, Peanut.” I scratched behind his ears, and he leaned into my palm. I used the few moments of saying hello to him as a respite to gather my wits and remember how to inhale and exhale.

When I straightened again, Nadia appeared to have collected herself as well. The shock had faded from her expression. Sherolled her shoulders back as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. I watched, and my fingers itched to be the ones sliding the silky strands in place. It was something I always did right before I leaned down and kissed her. I don’t know why I started, but from the first kiss we’d shared on the Ferris wheel the night we’d met on the pier; it was just what I did. It felt natural, like it was something we’d done for a thousand lifetimes.

Either she remembered the same thing I did, or my expression gave away where my mind was going because a deep blush darkened on Nadia’s cheeks.

Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. “What, um, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to give you an estimate.”

Her brows knitted together. “An estimate?”

I lifted the clipboard.

“You’re working for Hank?”

“For now.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, we both froze. Those weren’t just any words. Those were the words she’d said after she told me she loved me the first time. I didn’t believe she actually said it, so I asked her if she really did love me and she replied, “For now.”

Once again, the flush on her cheeks darkened.

I cleared my throat and tried to ignore what I’d just said. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” She shook her head. “I thought… Are you still fighting?”

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