Page 357 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“Jade,” I whisper. “I love you. That’s all I know.”
Her hand finds mine.
I close my eyes again, but the words still press at my chest.
“I was falling, and I just kept thinking about you.”
“I love you, too. I’m sorry I let my fear try to push you away. I promise you are all I want.”
“You are all I’ve ever wanted.”
She swipes a tear that slips fish her cheek.
“Just so you know, my fear of heights was on my bucket list. And I slayed it.”
She lets out a sound, half-laugh, half-sob, and all of it full of hope.
“You slayed it.” She leans in and presses her lips to my cheek “Happy Birthday, Hart.”
Her voice is sunshine through the fog in my head.
“You’re here,” I whisper, the words catching on the dry edge of my throat. “And that's the best birthday gift ever.”
I try to say more, to tell her everything pressing on my chest, but the words tangle, and the room’s already starting to slip sideways again.
My eyes close before I mean them to.
“Make up with your father.”
I think I say it. I know her like the back of my hand, but it hadn’t been my intention to come between them.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers, and I feel her lips on my cheek.
I sink into the dark without a struggle.
JADE
I WALK BACK to the room with a bag of baked goods Hart is craving. I try ignoring the tightness in my chest.
He is better now.
That’s all that matters.
But there’s more that I can’t say or discuss because he needs time to heal, and I need to be there for him.
I’m not ready when I walk into Hart’s room and my daddy sits next to his bed. I haven’t spoken to him in days, and he sits here now laughing with Hart like the last twelve years mean nothing.
He straightens when he sees me. His smile fades quickly, and he steps away from Hart’s bed.
“I came to apologize to Hart.” His voice is stiff. “And leave the truck for you two to take back.” He sets a set of keys on the side table. “I’ll be going now.”
I can barely breathe. All my anger simmers at the surface.
He places his Stetson on his head, gives me a slow nod, and walks out. I don’t look at him, but listen to the soft scrape of his boots fade as he disappears through the door.
I stand here with my heart in my throat, breathing deeply, my body trying to decide whether I want to scream or cry.
I meet Hart’s gaze. Concern is written all over his face. Concern and love.
