Page 60 of The Love You Fight For
“About thirty-two square miles. The place is really popular now—I’ll take you out in the boat tomorrow and show you some of the giant houses around here—but this land has been in our family since the sixties. My grandfather built the cabin himself.”
She grows quiet and takes a deep inhale and exhale before closing her eyes and tilting her face to the sky. It’s probably my imagination, but I think I can already see the color returning to her cheeks.
“It’s so peaceful out here,” she says after a moment. “I feel like I can actually think clearly. No distractions. No unrealistic expectations. Just the lake and the trees and me.”
I smile. That’s exactly what I was hoping.
“It’s my favorite place in the world,” I tell her, and she smiles to herself.
“I can see why,” she says before turning back to me. “If you could have one wish, one wish for anything at all, what would it be?”
I blink at her. She’s caught me off guard, and I don’t know how to answer the question right away.
I walk to the water and search the stones, picking up a few smooth ones as I think it over. What would I wish for? Anything atall? So many things come through my mind—financial stability for my sister’s family, Michael’s medical bills paid, my dad to stop aging, an update on my mom.
I consider all of it before settling on one.
“I think I just want to enjoy life without doing too much damage.”
I hand Sam one of the stones, then turn and skip one of mine on the surface of the lake. It skips three times before sinking.
“That’s it?” Sam asks. “You wouldn’t want to own a restaurant or run your own kitchen or something?”
When I look at her, she’s frowning at her rock.
“Owning a restaurant would be great—it used to be my dream—but it’s not the most
important thing anymore. If I could have that and never have to leave my family, sure. I’d love it. I’d want it. But I’m not losing sleep over it.”
I skip another rock. Five.
“I don’t need to own a restaurant to be happy,” I say to the lake. “All I really need are my
family and friends. To make some good memories with them. If I could do it all without hurting anyone, then I’d die happy.”
I shrug and turn back to her, slipping my hands into the pockets of my jeans, and find her
staring at me. I’d find her attention flattering if she didn’t look so confused.
“What?” I ask with a laugh. “What’s wrong?”
“I just can’t figure out your angle,” she says finally, and I arch a brow.
“What if I don’t have one?”
She shakes her head.
“Everyone’s got an angle, Chris. Everyone.”
“What’s yours?”
She narrows her eyes, then looks out at the water. She’s quiet for so long that I think she won’t answer me, but then she drops her rock into the lake and speaks to the ripples.
“I think it’s probably the opposite of yours.”
We fall back into silence. I don’t ask her to elaborate, and she doesn’t offer to. I just stand next to her and watch her as she looks out at the lake with her eyebrows scrunched in thought.
I wait. I let her take it all in.
