Page 59 of Nothing But It All
“Then I don’t. We’re mutually exclusive.” I stand tall and peer up the hill. “How far are we away?”
His gaze follows mine. “Farther than you want it to be. I don’t know why they rerouted that trail, but it probably added an extra mile back to the cabins.”
“You’re telling me we have a mile to go?”
He laughs and smacks me on the ass. “Get moving.”
I groan and follow him.
We’ve been walking for what feels like forever, and although my legs are lead, my heart is heavier.
“And it hurts a lot fucking worse when you’re getting turned down by the love of your life.”
Jack slows and I walk beside him, sneaking a peek at his profile. I notice the downturn of his lips and take in the lines around his eyes. He’s in thought too.I wonder if he’s thinking about me.
I hate that I made him feel that way, because I know how much it stings. That’s how he’s made me feel.
Is it possible that Jack didn’t mean to hurt me, just like I didn’t mean to hurt him? Are we both victims, in a sense, of our situation? Did one wrong turn into two, and before we knew it, we’d made so many wrong turns that we were now on different streets?
The possibility makes my chest burn.What do I do with that? Does it change anything? Aren’t we still in the same place we were before—now we just have a better idea of how we got here?
“When did you start sleeping in my shirts?” he asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Around Christmas, maybe. I started getting hot flashes and couldn’t stand wearing much to bed. But you know Ihave that fear of the house burning in the middle of the night, so I have to wear something to bed in case firefighters bust into my room.”
The corner of his lip twitches.
“Do you care that I sleep in your shirts?” I ask.
“Not at all. I like it, actually.”
I tuck my chin against my chest to hide my grin.
“How is Story Books going?” he asks, slowing his pace even more.
My grin grows wider, and I give up. I look at him, my heart turning over like an hourglass. Only this time, it’s slowly filling instead of consistently running out.
“It’s going really well,” I say, stepping over a fallen tree. “I have work booked through the end of the year already, and I’ve probably turned away three times as many projects as I’ve taken on.”
He nods. “Wow.”
“Yeah. It’s wild, really. To think that Maddie’s silly videos made this all happen for me is mind blowing.”
“She didn’t make that happen for you, Lo.Youmade it happen.”
The bridge of my nose burns like it does when I stumble upon a video about someone being nice to someone else or a special reunion between a mother and her child.Or a husband and wife.
“I’m really happy for you,” he says softly. “And I have so much respect for you.”
My throat constricts, and my eyes blur.
“I started the shop, and it’s all I had to do, you know,” he says. “I could pour twenty-four hours a day there if I needed to. Then I could go home, and my kids were healthy and happy because you were there taking care of everything else.” He chuckles. “But you manage to doeverything elseand start a business that will wind up being more profitable than mine.”
Using the edge of my shirt, I dab my eyes.
The flood of emotions pouring into my heart is more than I can weather. Hearing my husband tell me he respects me, and that herecognizes what I’m doing, is everything. It’s more than everything. It begins to fill a hole in my soul that was gaping a lot more than I realized.
“I’m proud of you, Lauren. I can’t wait to watch you kick ass.”
