Page 67 of Homesick

“Hmm, I don’t know. Are you still a terrible dancer?” I ask cheekily with my arms crossed.

Before there was an us, I remember him asking me to dance in middle school. I told him I was terrified of no one asking me, so he gladly took on the role. I may have left with two swollen feet, but I was just happy to be in his arms.

“Want to find out?” he challenges with one hand reaching out. Not being able to keep from touching him a minute longer, I take his hand gladly. Soon he’s holding me close, and I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck.

I peel my head from his body long enough to say, “not bad Fisher. Have you been practicing?”

Laughter bubbles up his throat and I relish in the sweet sound.

“Maybe,” Blake replies. “Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to hold you.”

His words send shivers up my spine. I forgot how good it felt to be loved by Blake Fisher.

I return my head to its resting place and let Blake sway me to the sounds of sweet and slow country music humming through the speaker.

After what feels like hours, Blake leads me over his truck and props me up on the tailgate. I wince when he disappears, but quickly rejoice when he reappears with a beer for him and a wine cooler for me.

“Why are you being so sweet?” I say before leaning against his side. The question is meant to be harmless, but I notice his body tense up for a second.

“I want to run an idea past you.”

I sit up at his change of tone. There is still lightheartedness in the air, but with an undertone of seriousness.

“What’s up?”

Blake readjusts his body so he’s fully facing me. I look at him and his eyes have that shade of hopefulness that seems to sparkle under the moonlight of a summer eve. “What would you think about moving to Wisconsin with me?”

The question makes everything hazy like the world stopped spinning for a second. It’s not a crazy ask. I should’ve expected it.

Blake notices my hesitation and fills the silence in the air.

“Obviously not right away. I know we still have a lot we need to catch up on which leads me to my next point,” he reasons before gently rubbing the exposed skin of my midriff. “I was thinking I could start my program next semester. We’d be able to spend some more time together and it would give you time to grow your business before we move. I was thinking you could find some clients in Wisconsin, too! I’m not in any hurry to start and it wouldn’t set me back that much.”

My mouth goes dry from so many things thrown at me at once. I’m not sure what to say.

“What happened to making things work with long distance? Do you not think we can make it work anymore?”

“No, Wren. Ugh, that’s not what I meant,” Blake mumbles before scrubbing his face with his hands. “This past week has reminded me how good it feels to be yours again. I know you have your business now, but I wanted to see if it’s something you’d be open to.”

A wavering smile appears on my face, and I do my best not to reveal the cracks forming in my heart. We’d only been back together for a couple of days, and I’m slowly being reminded of how fragile this still is. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Blake says before leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. “I got us some food. Let me go get it out of the truck.”

As soon as Blake is out of sight, I pull my legs into my body and hold myself tight. The thought of leaving Honey Grove after finally feeling settled for the first time in a long time makes my stomach turn.

I’m starting to build a future here and it doesn’t make sense to move. Even if it didn’t happen in a couple of months. I am terrified.

* * *

“This is going to suck,” I say to myself for the millionth time as I pull down Emma’s driveway. I’m tempted to avoid this conversation altogether, but I need to hear her side of the story. This is one of those things I need to go through to get through.

When I park my car, I spot Emma sunbathing on the front porch. I made sure to time my visit during one of Milo’s naps. That little dude’s sleep schedule is like clockwork. I can only hope for the same luck if I ever have kids.

“Hi,” I say, greeting Emma before plopping down next to her.

I hated confrontation so much my skin literally crawled at the thought. Sometimes I would convince myself everything was okay just to avoid an uncomfortable conversation.

“So, what’s up?” Emma says while sipping her water. “You said you wanted to talk.”

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