Page 104 of Embers of You
I nod, the sun is setting soon, but it’s mild out so the short walk may be pretty nice. As we walk at her pace, she tells me stories about her and her late husband. I bite back the tears that want to come, but she’s happily reminiscing so I let her. I didn’t know the man very well and when I met him he seemed cold and detached, but hearing from her it’s obvious he was anything but when it came to his wife.
And somehow that gives me hope that everything is going to be okay for everyone.
As we approach the barn, she pauses her story. “Oh, I have something for you.” She reaches into the pocket of her cardiganand pulls out an envelope. My heart instantly kicks up in my chest as I look at the white piece of paper addressed to me.
“What’s that?”
“Open it and find out.”
I swallow, taking the paper with shaky hands and open it slowly. We’re almost at the door to the barn, and all I can focus on is the paper. The eighth letter I didn’t think I would be getting. She steps ahead into the building, probably to get started on whatever it is she needs to do. For some reason it doesn’t even cross my mind that this is a set up. Not until I see the two words written on the paper.
Look Up.
When I do, all I see is Jameson.
He’s standing in the aisle of the barn, looking better than I even remember which seems impossible. He’s in dark jeans, a black T-shirt, with that familiar brown cowboy hat on his head, and a red rose in his hands. He steps toward me and I’m actually starting to wonder if I’m hallucinating.
“Sutton,” he says my name in that way he always does, his deep voice wrapping around the single word like it’s his favorite thing to say, and I love to hear it every single time he does.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He’s even closer now, so close I could reach out and touch him, but I won’t. I can’t. Somehow I find the ability to use my voice. “What’re you doing?”
“Have you been getting my notes?”
I nod, clutching the one I’m currently holding so I don’t do something crazy like grab him and slam our mouths together. But I won’t.
“How many have you gotten?” he questions.
“Um, eight.” I hold up the latest one.
“Have you noticed anything about these eight notes?”
I look down at the one in my hand, rereading it, trying to find some secret message hidden within the letters, but there’s nothing. I shake my head when I look back up to him.
He smirks. “That’s okay, put them together in order and see if you notice anything when you get back home.” He hands me the rose, and I take it trying to hide my trembling hand.
“Was this the only reason you got your mom to lure me out here?” I look down at the flower, the red petals looking healthy and vibrant.
“No. I wanted to tell you in person how sorry I am for pushing you away. I’m an idiot, and I knew the second you drove away I was making a mistake, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it. I convinced myself it was best for you. That I wasn’t going to drag you down with me as I spiraled.”
Somehow I find my strength once again, standing tall when I respond, “And who’s to say you won’t do that again the next time things get hard?”
“Me. I’m sorry that I made you question how I felt about you or doubt what we have between us. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really was convinced I was doing what’s best for you, but maybeI’m selfish. Because even if being apart is what’s best for you, I can’t do it. I need you in my life, baby. You are everything to me.”
“Jameson.” I shake my head, and he cups my face, forcing me to look up to him.
“Put the notes together. Take the night to think about it, and if you don’t think we can make this work, then I’ll accept it. But if there’s even a chance of us being together, I’ll grab it with both hands and hold on for the rest of my life, because you’re it for me.”
“I’ll think about it, but you hurt me,” I tell him.
“I know, I’m so sorry. My fear was that I didn’t deserve you, and I know I don’t, especially not now. If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life working to make sure I do.”
“No promises.”
“Not asking for any. Yet.”
The three of us walk back to the main house, Jameson’s hand grazes mine as we walk, but he doesn’t make a move to touch me. He walks me to my car, Bennet jumping in and we say goodbye.
And still he doesn’t touch me. Not even as I climb into my driver’s seat and he shuts my door for me. I watch him in my rearview mirror as I drive away and unlike the last time I had this view, he doesn’t look worried or upset.
