Page 97 of Falling Into Forever
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Dante says. “The first thing we’re going to do is get the wordshouldright out of your vocabulary. You shouldn’t be able to do anything except what is right for you in the moment. Stop putting the assumed expectations of others on your shoulders, Saylor. Because you’re not anyone else. You’re Saylor Greer, and you’re perfectly imperfect because you’re human—we all are. And it’s already been established that we all love who you are. Struggles and all. Okay?”
“Ditto what he said.” Miller laughs. “He’s right. There are no expectations from any of us. If you hang out for an hour or six, we’re just happy to be with you, okay? And to add my two cents, I think this is different than the brewery or the festival because this is where you’ve shut yourself off. It’s different because you’re, with a little encouragement”—he winks—“inviting people to be part of your space. You’re inviting them to be part of your life again.”
I nod and take control of the knot stuck in my throat. “Fine,” I bite out with more surliness than I intended. “But the two of you need to stop being so sappy. If I cry in front of everyone because of you two morons, I’ll never forgive you.”
Miller’s laugh booms out over the open lake, and Dante chuckles while guiding me down the stairs to my favorite Adirondack chair set up at the fire pit. He sits to my right.
No sooner do we sit than Cassie fills the chair next to me, handing Dante a bottle of beer and me a glass of wine. Then she pulls a spiked seltzer from the pocket of her shorts, pops open the top, and holds it out for me to cheers.
With an exaggerated sigh, I do.
“Cheers to second chances, new beginnings, and…” She glances over her shoulder, and I follow her gaze to where James is walking into my yard. Did she sense his presence like I do Dante’s? The instant he turns in our direction, she snaps her head around so fast that her braid slaps across her face. “And…” She swallows hard. “And to love that lasts a lifetime.”
Dante speaks first. “Cheers.”
I copy him, then we all lean back in our chairs and let the sounds of a party wash over us.
“Sassy.” A deep baritone slices through the air suddenly thick with tension. “Thanks for having me.”
I open my mouth to tell him that I didn’t actually invite anyone, but Dante squeezes my hand and answers for me.
“Good to see you, James. Help yourself. I have no idea what there is—it’s kind of a last-minute potluck.”
James holds out his hand to Dante, and they shake.
“Appreciate it,” James says before casting a worried expression in Cassie’s direction, but she dutifully ignores him, staring off into space like she can do it forever.
James’s sigh could be felt in Antarctica. “Sounds good,” he says, turning back to Dante. “I picked up some salads on my way over.” He holds up a shopping bag with a shrug. “I’ll go set them down.” He chances another peek at Cassie before bowing his head and walking away.
“How long can you keep this up?” I ask. Cassie and James were like Dante and me. Childhood sweethearts who did the unimaginable and made it through college still in love, then suddenly, it was over in the blink of an eye. It’s the one thing she’s never droned on about.
“He has to give up eventually.” She stands and brushes off her shorts with agitated movements. “I’m going to give Ainsley a hand in the…somewhere,” she says, then walks off in the opposite direction of James.
“Something else that hasn’t changed in all these years,” Dante says. The warmth in his tone tells me that whatever he’s thinking makes him happy.
“What’s that?” I ask, but my gaze is still taking in the impromptu party happening all around me.
“Small towns are never short on drama.” He chuckles, but there’s no malice in his words. He says it more like it’s something he’s truly missed. “And the photographers out front are documenting it all. Happy, messy life.”
I shrug, lift my feet into my chair so I can curl into a ball, and watch everyone having a good time. I’m surprised by the happiness attempting to escape my body, but everyone gives me a minute to breathe, which I appreciate.
“You doing okay?” Dante asks.
“Yeah,” I admit. “This is a lot easier than the Lemon Fest was.”
“You’re in control here, Sayls. You call the shots. When you’ve had enough, we go inside and call it a night. You need a little more of that in your life. Instead of being controlled by circumstance, let’s start trying to control your narrative. This is your story, sweetheart, and you can write it any way you want.”
His words run in a loop in my mind. Even when Miller and James sit next to Dante and engage him in a lively conversation, I get lost in the idea that I can control my outcome. I can write my own story.
Ideas filter through my mind, and questions sit on the tip of my tongue, but for once, I try to store them in my mind and reenter the real world that’s happening around me.
Laughter covers me like a blanket while children run in circles around me, reminding me of happy memories, like camping with my sisters and learning to bake a cake. For so long, my mind held me captive to the sad memories, the gut-wrenching truths. But somehow, the man I thought I couldn’t keep is giving me everything I thought I’d lost. He’s giving me a life of balance—dark and light. He’s giving me a life built for love.
* * *
Night falls,and everyone settles into chairs around me, but it isn’t suffocating. With Dante at my side it feels normal.
“Do you always travel with a blow-up movie screen and a film projector?” Harrison asks Miller.
