50. Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty

Indy — Now

T ime came and left as we knelt in the freshly dug soil, but we paid it no heed. Instead, we continued on in our own world. Sharing stories of what might’ve been. How perfect Nolan would’ve looked with a newborn swaddled to his chest, how loudly I would’ve cheered when they took their first step.

When the day faded into night and it was time to go, I prepared myself. For grief to slam me down and force me back into reality. There was no denying when I stepped into our quiet house, I felt the ache of what was missing. But there was something else too.

It was a light at the end of the tunnel. The first sign of growth after a winter frost. It was the beating pulse of a broken heart.

It was hope . . . it was love.

I couldn’t see it. But I could feel it.

I spun on my heel to face Nolan, the tips of his fingers holding mine. I was ready, eager to tell him what I’d always felt, but before I could form the words, he said, “I have something else for you.”

I smiled. “You’ve already given me so much.”

He’d given me more than I could have ever asked or dreamed for. Things I’d thought would never be mine. But I didn’t protest when he led me through the back door and onto the porch. A breeze swirled through, and I wrapped my arms around myself as he flicked on the porch light.

I blinked, adjusting to the light as I took in what sat on the patio table. “Are those . . .” My mouth split into a grin. “Nolan, you made me flower boxes!”

Red crawled up his neck, and I ate up the sight. It did something to me, seeing Nolan shy. “You like ’em?”

I huffed a laugh, getting a good look at the flower boxes. There were two of them, both about a foot long. They were stained a deep honey, each engraved with the outline of a mountain.

Deciding no words could properly portray how I felt, I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought his lips to mine. There was nothing I could give him to repay him for this gift—more importantly, what he’d given me today.

Lifting me up, he set me on the porch railing. He kissed me once, twice, both times with a smile. “I’m guessing you like them?”

“I love them,” I told him, undeniable joy racing through me. I felt so alive. “They’re perfect. I can’t wait to put flowers in them. You’ll have to tell me to stop staring out the window all the time because I won’t want to look away from them.”

He chuckled, his forehead against mine. “I don’t know about perfect. I’m pretty sure when I called your apartment complex to get the measurements of your window, they thought I was asking so I could break in. So if you get back to New York and they don’t fit your windows, send them back and I’ll resize them.”

“I’m sure they’ll fit—”

I closed my mouth, my stomach sinking as his words settled. He’d made me flower boxes for my apartment. My apartment in New York. Because I didn’t live here.

And Nolan did.

I straightened my shoulders, reminded myself I knew this was coming. This had always been about fixing the past and saying goodbye. We hadn’t even broached the possibility of our relationship extending past this month. “I’m sure they’ll be perfect. But if not, maybe I can fly you to New York to fix them? Or wherever I might be, since we don’t know if I’ll even get the job—”

He squeezed my hips. “There’s no way you’re not getting the job. I wouldn’t be surprised if when Calder gets here in two days, he calls the agency and demands they hire you.” He leaned in, leaving a soft peck on my lips. “But if you don’t get this job, you’ll get the next one. And if I have to make you a whole new set of flower boxes for a different apartment, I will.”

I gave him a shaky smile, feeling like I was being torn in two. “Hey.” I kept my voice as steady as I could manage. “You never told me the story behind the star my dad gifted me. Did you make it for me?”

“I asked him to give it to you.” He brushed a curl behind my ear, a tender smile on his lips. “He’d told me you were graduating, and I was so proud. I wanted to be with you, but since I couldn’t, I thought I’d send you a piece of home. Let you know the stars were still shining for you.”

He kissed my cheek, and I leaned into the touch as I absorbed his words. That was what the flower boxes were intended to be—a piece of home. A piece of him. Because my time in Wallowpine, with Nolan, was coming to an end. We’d done what we’d set out to do. We’d found peace. We were friends. We’d tied up loose ends and rewritten the end of our story.

It was the ending we’d agreed on. Perhaps even the life we were destined to have. I should’ve been happy, satisfied at least. A month ago, I might’ve been.

But that was before Nolan had gone and made me want more.