Page 48 of Fern's Date with Destiny
He was hers.She was his.They’d figure out the rest.
She tucked her phone in her pocket and went to work.
The gallery was quiet that day.Fern set up a new display, labeled tags, arranged pottery.Everything she’d normally enjoy.But her brain kept replaying Cody’s message.
I love you.
Which she slowly figured out also meantI’m sorry.AndI’m scared.
By late afternoon, she was sorting a crate of hand-carved frames when Chance walked in.He didn’t say anything at first, just set a thermos of coffee on the table beside her.
She unscrewed the lid, inhaling the familiar smell.“Thanks.”
“You look like you’ve been to war,” Chance said gently.
She shrugged, not trusting her voice.
He studied her a moment longer.“Something wrong?”
Fern pressed her lips together.The truth slipped out before she could stop it.“I think Cody got a diagnosis.”
Chance’s jaw tightened.“He’s being an eejit?”
“Maybe.”She managed a small smile.“But he’s my eejit.So, there’s that.”
Chance pulled her into a brotherly hug, his big arms bracketing her shoulders.“He’ll figure it out.He won’t walk away from you.”
She squeezed him back.“Thanks, Chance.”
When he left, she locked the door behind him and rested her forehead against the cool glass.
She knew what might be happening.She wasn’t naive.She’d spent hours reading medical articles and Parkinson’s forums in the dark.She’d learned more than she’d ever wanted to know about dopamine, tremors, progression.
So she thought about it.Reallythought about it.What it meant to love someone who might someday need her help to button a shirt or tie a boot.To watch him slow down before his time.
To stand beside him when he couldn’t hide it anymore.
She imagined it all.The frustration, the adjustments, the way people would look at them.
It scared her for a bit, but understanding came quick and clear.
She wasn’t scared because she didn’t want to deal with it, but because she didn’t wanthimto have to deal with it.
The actual doing of the things?The being with Cody through it all?None of that scared her.
It was startling, the realization.So big it made her knees buckle.
She sat right there on the gallery floor and cried.Not because she was sad, though she was.Or afraid—though she felt that too.But because she knew with unshakable certainty that she loved him.
Not just him of today.The him of tomorrow, too.Every version of Cody was hers.
Just like she was his.
He came to her door on Saturday morning when she was still sitting in her pyjamas staring out the kitchen window.Her heart tried to jump out of her ribs.She pressed a hand to her chest then opened the front door.
He looked tired and worn thin around the edges.But his eyes met hers the way they always had.As if she was the only thing tethering him to earth.
“Hey,” she whispered.
