Page 2 of Fierce Love
She’d tell me that proposing is rash and impulsive. That believing I know who I want to be with for the rest of my life when I’m seventeen is nonsense. She’d tell me that Hollyn’s life and upbringing are too different from mine and that those differences will matter more than I think as we get older. She’d tell me the Tucker name shouldn’t be linked to criminals. There’s nothing she can tell me today that I haven’t heard every day for the last few months—ever since she found out about Hollyn.
It's just that, from the moment I met Hollyn, I’veknownin my gut, in my heart, in my fucking blood, that she’s the woman I’m meant to spend my life with. Without question. Without hesitation. The minute her arms slid around me, and our gazes connected that first night, I knew with soul-shaking certainty. Hollyn is mine, and I am hers.
“First love, worst love” and all that trite shit even my dad tried to spew at me—probably after my mom asked him to—doesn’t apply. This is forever. Guaran-fucking-teed.
“I honestly can’t believe you’re doing this,” Cal says, and he slaps me on the shoulder. “You’re already with her. What’s the rush to get married?”
I would have married her the night we met. Or within the first few weeks if she’d let me. But where I’m “Fuck it, let’s go all in,” she’s a lot more cautious. Doesn’t think we’ll survive our long distance. But once I’m eighteen and have my money, I can fly to her, fly her to me. Transfer schools, even. Making it work might not be easy, but it’s far from impossible. Fifty years from nowwe’ll look back and laugh that we ever thought any of this was hard.
“You know why,” I say because we’ve talked about it for weeks. Cal is the one person I trust with everything. He even went with me to check the final ring design. “Maybe you don’t get it, but you know.”
“To be this sure, though. I just… I don’t know. I have a hard time imagining it.” He rubs the back of his head and then crosses his arms to take in the scene in front of us.
The sun is setting, and the fairy lights are strung along the rustic wooden fence—older than me—that keeps people from accidentally going over the cliff.
“Think she’ll know?” Cal asks.
“Doubtful,” I say, and while I’m sure she’ll say yes, I’m not sure she’ll say yesright away. I’m prepared and determined to be convincing. Every possible objection she could utter I’ve already run through my head, and I’ve got a rebuttal lined up. Debate club has to be good for something.
“All right, well, I’ll leave you to it,” Cal says, clapping me on the shoulder again.
I move toward the view, and I splay my hands along the railing, leaning into the rough wood under my palms. The ocean below is calm tonight, as though it also knows that I’m making the right decision.
In the distance, gray misty clouds hang low, threatening to bring rain. Hollyn should be here, and we should have talked everything through before those arrive. Lots of time before we dash to our vehicles, engaged, full of laughter and hope.
As the sun sinks, I check my watch, and then I pat my pocket for my phone before realizing I left it in the Range Rover. If I go get it, I might end up meeting her in the parking lot, and that’ll take a wrecking ball to my plan. The mood I want to set is for her to find all this with mehere, not me walking with her into it.
But if she’s running late from work, I might need to be more worried about those clouds in the distance. A rainy proposal gets the job done, but it’s not the memory that’s been playing on repeat in my head.
Fuck it. I need my phone. Her boss is enough of an asshole that he might have forced her into a bit of overtime tonight. After the third time I called him on his shitty employment practices, Hollyn told me that I had to stop trying to solve all her problems because she’d end up fired, which would lead to more problems. My mother keeps a tight leash on the family funds, or I’d solvethoseproblems too.
I dig around the car until I finally find my phone tucked under the driver’s seat. There’s a missed call and a voicemail, and I click through to play it.
“Nate—it’s me. I can’t make it tonight. I just…”There’s a deep shaky breath.“Some stuff has come up, and I don’t think I’ll get to see you before I leave.”Hollyn’s voice catches on the last word, and then she’s gone. But I’m already climbing into the Range Rover, turning the engine over, putting the vehicle in reverse. Something’s upset her, and while I don’t know exactly where to find her, I know all the places to look.
As I drive, I click on her name to call her back. When there’s no answer, I don’t bother leaving a message. I press my hand against the box in my jeans pocket.
But as I drive from her workplace to the apartment she shares with her aunt, to the trailer her parents sometimes use, to all the places that are her favorite thinking spots, she’s nowhere to be found.
I’ve texted her, but she hasn’t texted back. In the parking lot to her three-story apartment complex, I sit and stare at the entrance to the building. Worry eats me up in way I never knew it could. The rain is falling in thick sheets all around me, running in rivers down the street.
At the entrance, I huddle tight under the awning and buzz her number—the same way I have countless times over the last few months, the same way I did almost an hour ago when I first tried to find her. Panic swirls in my stomach, and I hit the buzzer over and over again.
Finally, there’s static on the other side.
“Hols?” I ask. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be down,” Verna says into the speaker, her voice resigned.
She’s never spoken to me like that before. Being buzzed up is a given—not once has she made me wait out here—and it’s fucking raining tonight. Maybe I’d have to wait in the apartment as Hollyn put on a last coat of mascara or tried to find the purse she really wanted. This doorstep is somewhere I pass through, not somewhere I stay.
I shift on my feet while I wait for Verna to appear, invite me in. But when she gets to the door, she steps out, wrapping her housecoat around her. She doesn’t let me in.
“She’s gone, Nathaniel. Left early for school.”
“What?” I search her face for the gentle teasing I’ve seen so many times before. Surely, she can’t be serious. “I don’t understand.”
“No, I’m sure you don’t.” She lets out a deep sigh. “She couldn’t do this goodbye in person, so I’m doing it for her.” She swallows and doesn’t meet my gaze.
