Page 106 of Late Bloomer
I shake my head, a teardrop rolling down my cheek.
“Yes,” she says, laughing again, but this time it’s soft and bright and painted with a mix of exasperation and joy. “I love you so much I could burst with it.”
I look down, dragging my toe through the gravel, something dangerous and beautiful rushing through me.
“The Thistle and Bloom is yours. Fully yours. This is your house,” I say, waving at the squat cabin that’s become so precious to me that a piece of my heart will always sit right at its door. But I’ll walk away. I’ll make the stupidest choice possible and take the brutal loss of my money and my dreams and every other fanciful idea I built on this ground if it will make Pepper happy. If it will bring her peace.
Pepper nods, squinting at it, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It is. Are you… are you still leaving?”
I rake my hands through my hair, tugging at the ends, an exasperated, desperate feeling swelling in my chest and threatening to crack me open. “Yes? No? Did you mean what you just said? Because I’m giving you an out if it was in the heat of themoment. I know that can happen and the last thing I want is for you to feel trapped or you owe me something. I can’t keep screwing up your life. I can’t—”
“Opal.” She steps forward, placing a finger over my lips. “Please shut up.” She says the words softly. Sweetly. Like she placed a heart instead of a period at the end of her sentence. “I want you to stay if you want to stay.”
A tiny, frustrated sound comes from the back of my throat, and I back away, putting much-needed distance between us. I can’t think clearly with her so close.
“Of course I want to stay,” I whisper, looking into her deep brown eyes. “I want to stay so long at the Thistle and Bloom that my veins turn to roots in the soil. I want to walk up and down the rows of flowers until I know the paths in the pitch black, my final destination always being your doorstep. But I’m a mess, Pepper. I came in and upended your life and made a giant disaster of everything. And you don’t need that. You don’t need the headaches I cause. I mean, look at what just happened. I don’t belong here.”
Pepper is still as a statue, and I’m scared to even breathe. But, in a flash, she closes the distance between us, reaching out, fingers diving into my hair, tilting my face up to hers.
“You,” Pepper says slowly, carefully, so I hang on every word, “are the most chaotic, wild, wonderful person I have ever met. You have upended my life and I don’t ever,everwant it righted again. If you don’t think you belong here, we can talk about that. But all I know is I belong withyou. We can figure the rest out as it comes. But I love you, Opal. I love you andyour messes and your laugh and your hair and the way you say my name with that perfect, exasperated sigh that makes me feel like the word was created just for you to speak it.”
My lips part, but no sound comes out, tears rolling down my cheeks. She brushes them away with her thumbs and smiles at me.
“I need you to understand something,” she says, voice warm and smoky like a shot of whiskey after being out in the cold. “My house, your house—the details of it don’t matter. I wantourhouse. Our home. Next to you is my favorite place in the world, and that’s the only spot I care about holding on to.”
“I love you so much it scares me,” I whisper, placing my hands on top of hers. “I’m scared I’m going to screw this up or I’ll be too much to deal with and you’ll get sick of me. Or that I won’t be enough and you’ll realize you deserve better.”
Pepper laughs, the noise soft and disbelieving. Then she presses forward, kissing me softly, resting her forehead against mine. “You silly, silly woman. We will both screw things up, and that’s okay. My love for you exists because you exist. It isn’t based on whatever ridiculous standards you hold yourself to. Do you want more than what I have to give you?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. The word is solid, planted and sturdy between us like an oak.
“Do you want someone less? I’m not an easy person either, Opal.”
“You’re perfect,” I say, holding on to her wrists, squeezing them tight. I may never let go.
“And so are you,” she says, wiping away a few more of mytears. “I’m stuck on you and there’s no place I’d rather be. So stop trying to talk us both out of it and kiss me already.”
And, for once, with no fuss or protest or additional words, I do exactly as she asks. I kiss her until the earth stops spinning, time unspooling around our ankles. I kiss her like it’s our first and our last and the promise of every kiss that will come in between.
I kiss her how I love her, deep and steady and a little bit frantic.
And she kisses me right back.
Eventually, we come up for air, giggling and crying, and holding each other so close we sigh at the comfort of it.
As we walk back to our home, I grab her hand. She holds my heart.
And nothing is perfect but everything is right, and that’s all that matters.
Epilogue
A few years later
PEPPER
In a world full of endless wonders, the most special place on earth is my spot cuddled next to Opal in front of our fireplace.
“Cheers, to another amazing season,” I say, clinking my mug of hot chocolate against hers.
