Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Don’t forget hard work,” Aaron adds.
Micah and I stay silent. I take a sip, but it doesn’t go down well. Obviously, Micah’s trip is coming to an end, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow. I knew he wouldn’t stay forever, but at least we have a few more weeks to hash out anything left unsaid.
I’ll have to force myself to move on after I grieve him all over again—my own fault because I could have kept my distance, but why would I want to? Any time I can get with Micah is precious, but closure will be good for us. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Jack shows up with Aunt Dina, who brings takeout from the Asian restaurant in town. I half expect Frank and Rocco to make an entrance next, but apparently, they’re busy at the service station. According to Micah, they plan to officially meet at the property tomorrow.
I can feel Jack watching me, but I shrug him off. No way I want to admit he was right, despite how well I saw this coming.
After the leftovers are packed away, our family and friends leave one after the other. Glancing toward the kitchen, I suddenly remember the original reason for my visit.
“I’ll grab the fish from your freezer on the way out.”
“J, wait.” Micah’s hand on my arm stills me. “I don’t want you to leave. Can we just…sit out back by the fire? Or do you need to head home?”
It’s been years since we built a fire with the backdrop of the mountains and watched the embers slowly fade into ashes until well past midnight.
“I’d like that.”
Micah opens another bottle of wine while I start the fire, using kindling and newspapers left over from Grandpa Malone’s stash. Once it’s blazing, we sit beside each other on the wicker furniture with the faded floral-print cushions. It’s obvious Aaron hasn’t tended to this outdoor space yet, but I suppose now it’s unnecessary.
Something catches my eye on the west side of the property. It’s a twister of smoke and sparks, so his neighbor must be having a bonfire of his own.
“Burning leaves again,” Micah bites out. It’s not allowed in these parts because it can contribute to air pollution, but some folks do it anyway. “Apparently, Grandpa suggested he use them for compost or mulch, but he didn’t listen.”
My gaze is fixed in that direction. “Rosie tell you that?”
“Yeah. She also mentioned he and Grandpa had some sort of dispute regarding the property line after he moved in. I wouldn’t put it past him to be the one who started those rumors about my grandfather. So screw him and whatever he’s doing over there.”
I wince. “You might want to give Rocco a heads-up about him.”
“Good idea.” He takes a gulp of his wine. “J, I know hearing the news—”
“It’s okay.” I watch the flames dancing in front of us. “This is just everything falling into place.”
“Guess so,” he mutters. “Promise me something?”
“Micah, don’t— I have a feeling I know what—”
“Please,” he insists.
“Fine,” I huff out. “Say what you have to say.”
He angles toward me. “Promise you’ll try to date and find someone who gives you what you deserve.”
I push the words out because I know it’s what he needs. “I will.”
His eyes dim as he nods. It’s not difficult to spot the anguish that matches my own.
After another moment, I say, “You promise too.”
“I don’t need—”
“Yeah, you do. Just because your dreams took you in a different direction doesn’t mean you don’t deserve things too.”
“Fuck,” he whispers. “I promise.”
His expression is solemn, and I can see the emotions bubbling beneath the surface. He averts his eyes as if he doesn’t want me to see how wrecked he feels.
I’m a mess too, but I still need to know we’re on the same page. “You okay?”
“Yeah…or I will be.” He rubs at a spot right above his heart. “I knew this day would eventually come, but it still feels raw and achy, almost like it did the first time I left you and the time after that when you left LA.”
“And the time after that,” I interject, “when you drove off after my parents’ funeral. Seems we’re always leaving each other.”
He nods. “But as kids, we spent every moment together until graduation and even after. We got married, for Christ’s sake.”
“Come here,” I say, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Sometimes life is shit. But this right here…”
“Will always feel like heaven.” Micah buries his face in my neck, and I hold him the way he needs right now—and I need it too. Like he’s been unmoored for far too long and needs a solid place to anchor his heart. And I’ll always be that for him.
After a while, we lie down with our limbs intertwined, breathing the fresh mountain air, finding comfort in each other. When I feel his muscles relax, I know we’ll be okay, even without each other.