Page 72 of Silent Count
“Where’s this coming from? Don’t get me wrong; I love it.”
We reach the tables, and he sets the basket down on one.
“I don’t know. I just like watching you and see how you interact with people. You’re a special guy, and I feel really lucky to be in your orbit.” I pull in a deep breath, suddenly feeling emotional.
He sits down on the bench, legs on either side. “Come here,” he says, and he holds my hand as I climb over and straddle the bench too. He takes the bag from my other hand and places it next to the basket, then takes both my hands in his. “Chelsea, if anyone is lucky, it’s me.”
Instead of replying, I just kiss him. Even though I started this open conversation, we’re getting into a territory that I don’t know that I’m ready for. “Let’s eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, and I’m dying to try the pie.”
I pull out a bottle of local organic red wine. Neither of us really drinks though, so we’ll probably take it home for the girls. There’s a packet of crackers, some cheese, some of the dried fruits, along with some slices of summer sausage. Small square sandwiches are neatly wrapped, and they have what looks like cream cheese, fig jam, and a slice of ham. As I take everything out, Bo sets it up on the table.
“Okay, now, this all looks really good. Probably won’t keep you satisfied for long though, but we have dinner and cake tonight with our friends.” I look at him, and he has a smile on his face and nods.
“This all looks great. Thank you for bringing me here. This is the best date and birthday I’ve ever had.” He leans over and kisses my cheek.
“I’m glad. I wanted to do something special and different.” I pull out the slices of pie and set them on the table, and then I clear my throat, deciding to give him more of my story. “So, after my mom died, we went to live with my aunt.” I look over at him, and he nods. “My sister and I had to go into counseling, and I was struggling to connect with anyone, so they suggested animal therapy. My aunt found a farm near where we lived that worked with kids who’d had traumatic events in their lives. I started going when I was thirteen, and when my program was completed, I decided to stay on and work with kids who came in like I had.”
I turn my head and look out over the beautiful landscape. The sun is starting to set, and there is a pink glow in the sky.
“Working there is how I decided I wanted to be a lawyer. Some of those kids who came in had no one to speak for them, and I guess I just want to feel like I can make a difference and be that voice for them when they can’t. Does that make sense?” I look back at him.
“It does make sense.” He nods. “Can I ask about your mom?”
My first instinct is to say no, but I brought it up, so I should tell him something. “You can.”
“How did she die?” he asks cautiously.
I take a deep breath, my fingers tightening around his, almost without me noticing. My gaze drops to our joined hands because it’s easier than looking at his eyes. The words feel heavy in my mouth. I can’t bring myself to tell him the whole story right now, especially on his birthday.
“She was shot.”
When I look up, he’s watching me—not staring, butwaiting. His brows knit together just a little, and the silence between us feels like it’s stretching.
“I’m really sorry. Were you close with her?”
I shake my head. “Not in the way you should be close to your mother. My sister and I didn’t have a great life before living with my aunt.”
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he prods.
A lump rises in my throat. Part of me wants to run, and part of me wants to collapse into his chest and spill everything. “I do know that. It’s just … not always easy for me to talk about.”
He nods. “I get that. But I just want you to know that you can. I want to know you in every way.”
I nod and bite down on my lip to try not to cry. I don’t want his birthday to become something sad.
“I love you, Bo. I hope you feel that.”
I know I need to give him more of myself. He’s always so open and honest with me. And while I’ve been authentically myself with him, there’s a lot he doesn’t know about me. But I don’t ever want him to doubt how I feel because it isn’t easy for me to let someone in like this.
“I do. And I love you too,” he says, then leans in to kiss me.
He pulls back and watches me for a minute, and I think he can sense that’s all he’s getting from me today.
When we pull apart, I turn on the bench and reach for the pie and clear my throat. “I think because it’s your birthday, we should eat dessert first. What do you think?” I look over at him and smile, opening the container.
He smiles at me knowingly and nods. “I think we should eat the pie.”
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