Page 87 of The Now in Forever
“I know you're seeing that other guy and it’s complicated. But love doesn’t have to be. Relationships don’t have to be. I like you. I’d like to spend more time with you. It’s simple. My offer stands, no expiration date. You just give me the word.”
I smile, even though I want to cry. Kyle is saying all the right words, and for a moment I can picture it, our life together. An engagement party at The Vern, our wedding on the beach, a little house in town, him holding our baby, cradling her tiny head in his large hands. Could this be my fate? Could Kyle be my forever? Am I making a huge mistake by holding out for Ed?
“Goodnight, Hattie.”
“Goodnight, Kyle.”
He walks out into the night. I could break it off with Ed and date Kyle. He’s handsome and funny, and he wants me.
But Ed is…something else. When I’m with him, it feels like my veins are filled with glitter. Possibilities are endless. It also feels fragile, though, like a temperamental house plant that will die without just the right mix of water, sunlight, and expensive, hard-to-find soil enhancer. It feels hard. And part of what Kyle said about it not needing to be struck a chord with me.
I feel genuinely lost.
CHAPTER 23
SATURDAY, AUGUST 10TH
In the morning, I go for a run. The rhythm of my feet that usually calms me does nothing to quell the relentless wave of thoughts. This is quite possibly the biggest decision I’ll ever make.
After showering, grabbing a cup of coffee roughly the size of my head, and checking Instagram a billion times, I dig out the card Kyle gave me.
The agent answers on the first ring. “This is Rick with Beachside Properties.”
“Um, yes.” What am I doing? “My name is Hattie Stevens. I’m interested in one of your properties.”
“Ahh, Hattie. Kyle’s friend, right?”
My stomach drops, remembering last night, but I say, “Yep. That’s me.”
We make an appointment to meet at 1:30 at the bookstore. I walk there, savoring the light breeze billowing the skirt of my sundress.
The blue Victorian building is just as beautiful as before. The Books sign is swinging lightly in the breeze. Rick is waiting for me at the top of the steps. It’s as perfect as I remember—well, not perfect, exactly. It would need a lot of work. After taking another tour, lingering again to look at the view in the bedroom, I’m still not sure what to do. Rickhands me his card after he locks the red door. “I have another interested party, so let me know if you want to put in an offer.”
My mind is spinning in so many different directions, I don’t know which way is up.
The walk back feels heavy, my limbs, my heart, my head. I’d like to stop at The Vern for a glass of wine, but I’m not ready to see Kyle.
Instead, I stop by the little general store on the way home and grab some Cabernet Sauvignon, olives, crackers, and cheese. I take it all out onto the porch and check my phone again. Ed still hasn’t called me back from last night. But I do have an email from my critique partners.
Pouring myself a generous glass of wine, I read through their comments. Definitely some things to fix, but so far, nothing too major.
That is until I get to the end. Both of them don’t feel the ending is right. June has to choose between the man in the book and the real man that she could have a life with. She chooses the real man. Even though her feelings for the man in the book are stronger, what they have could never be more than fleeting moments. You can’t marry a book, much to my dismay.
But both my critique partners think the man in the book is who she should end up with.
An idea begins to form, so quickly I pull up my notes app to jot it down before I lose it. I write an alternate ending, one where June and the man in the book end up with their happily ever after. I’m not sure which is better, which I like more. I’m too close to it and can’t tell anymore which is the right answer.
I need to give it some space.
Sighing, I set down my phone and look out at the ocean. I think about making another list, but how has that really helped me so far? Can I find the answers in the waves? Then a thought occurs to me. I pick back up my phone and download a magic eight ball app. Let the ball decide.
In order for the app to work, you have to shake your phone.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and jiggle softly.
Should I put an offer on the bookstore?
Bright-green letters appear, saying,“It is decidedly so.”
