Page 110 of The Choices I've Made
“I think we’ve done enough talking tonight,” I said, my hands dancing across her belly and drifting even lower.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
I’d spend forever getting to know this incredible woman Molly had become. I wanted to hear everything that had happened while I was away.
The good, the bad, and everything in between.
But there was more than one way to reunite myself with my long-lost love.
And, right now, I’d let our hands do all the storytelling while the ocean and stars set the perfect stage for the opening scene to our epic sequel.
After spending a night stuffed in the twin bed from my childhood, we’d decided the inn was a better choice for now—until we could figure out something better.
Something better.
The words made my stomach hurt because I knew it meant change. Until now, I’d been a visitor on this island, living like a vagabond from one place to the other.
I knew it would soon have to end. I couldn’t live in my dad’s office. Hell, I couldn’t keep calling it my dad’s office if I was planning on staying.
Was I planning on staying?
I knew I couldn’t leave without Molly.
Would Molly leave?
Maybe eventually, but not now.
Staring into the mirror of Molly’s vanity in her small bathroom, I took a big, soothing breath.
I was staying.
For how long, I wasn’t sure. A year, five years. Maybe longer.
I tried to imagine the future. Molly round with our child as we walked along the worn paths of the island, nestled between live oak trees, the bay in the distance. Years later, our children running ahead of us, laughing and playing, as we headed off to dinner at one of the local restaurants.
I found myself smiling.
Not a bad future. Not bad at all.
But could I find merit and worth in becoming a family doctor after everything I’d achieved? I was on my way to becoming chief of surgery in Chicago. Could I leave it all behind to give out antibiotics and flu vaccines?
My head swam as I got dressed that morning, thankful we’d stopped by my parents’ house to grab provisions. My head still swam with visions and nightmares whenever I entered the place, the memories still heavy on my chest, but it seemed to get easier with every attempt.
I knew I’d have to eventually do something with the place.
Watching it fall apart felt like an injustice to my mother’s memory.
Sliding into my shoes, I took one last look around the room. Last night was the first time I’d been in here since high school. Although she’d made some changes, it mostly felt the same. Her sister’s stuff was gone, which made it feel larger and less adolescent, but her old bed remained along with the antique dresser with the mirror that reminded me of something from the state fair.
So much of the girl I remembered still lived here.Was there room for me?
Stepping out into the hallway, I headed for the kitchen. Breakfast was in full swing with the guests all gathered around the table, drinking coffee and enjoying Molly’s home-cooked treats. It grew quiet when I entered.
Not knowing if I should have snuck out the back, I suddenly felt awkward. I didn’t know what the protocol was for sleeping over. I wasn’t a guest, but I was hungry.
“Good morning,” Molly said, not appearing out of step in the least. “Do you want coffee?”
“Uh, sure,” I said, noticing two sets of eyes following me more than most.
