Page 34 of A Season of Second Chances
My voice breaks, and I have to take a breath before I can continue.
"These past few days showed me I don't have anything that matters. Nothing that's real. Nothing that fills the empty spaces inside me. I have things, Winter. I have accomplishments and a nice apartment and a respectable job title. But I don't have love. I don't have family. I don't have anyone who looks at me the way Alana looked at me when she opened that crown, or the way you looked at me when we were decorating the tree."
"Joy..." His voice is rough with emotion.
"I don't want to go back to Indianapolis alone," I say, the words coming faster now as I finally let myself admit the truth. "I don't want to go back to my empty apartment and my demanding job and my own loneliness. I don't want to spend another ten years wondering what if, regretting this moment, missing you and Alana and the life we could build together."
His eyes are bright with hope and fear, and I can feel him holding his breath, waiting for me to say what he needs to hear.
"I want to stay here," I whisper. "I want to stay here and build a family with you. With both of you. I want morning pancakes and afternoon walks and bedtime stories. I want to be there when Alana has a bad day at school. I want to help her with her homework and teach her to bake and be someone she can count on. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep in your arms every night. I want the simple, comfortable, beautiful life you described."
A sound escapes him, something between a laugh and a sob.
"I left once before," I say, my voice steady now even though I'm still crying. "I left because I thought I knew what I wanted, what I needed. And it was a mistake, Winter. Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life. I've known it for years, but I was too proud to admit it, too scared to come back and face what I'd thrown away."
I take a shaky breath, gathering my courage for what I need to say next.
"I won't make that mistake again," I tell him firmly. "I won't let fear or pride or other people's expectations keep me from the life I actually want. The life I've always wanted, even when I was too blind to see it."
"Joy, are you saying…" He can barely get the words out.
"I'm saying I love you, Winter." The words set me free. "I love you, and I never stopped loving you, and I'm done pretending that I can build a life that doesn't include you in it."
"You're staying?" He asks it like he's afraid to believe it, afraid this is some kind of dream he's going to wake up from.
"I'm staying," I confirm, and saying it out loud makes it real and I can't take it back. "I'm staying in Pine Ridge. I'm staying with you. If you'll have me."
"If I'll have you?" He laughs, pulling me tight against him, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around. "Joy, I've been waiting for you to come home for ten years."
When he sets me back down, he's kissing me, and it's different from all the other kisses we've shared this week. This one is full of promises. A beginning instead of an ending.
When we finally break apart, we're both laughing and crying at the same time.
"What about your apartment?" he asks, suddenly practical even in the middle of this emotional moment.
"I'll figure it out," I tell him, and I mean it. "I'll break my lease or sublease the apartment. I'll deal with my parents and their inevitable disappointment. I'll handle all of it, Winter, because none of it matters as much as this. As us."
"Are you sure?" He's searching my face, looking for any sign of doubt. "Because once you do this, once you call your boss and quit your job and break your lease, there's no taking it back. This is real, Joy. This is forever."
"I know." And I do. For the first time in ten years, I'm absolutely certain about something. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
He kisses me again, softer this time, like he's trying to memorize the feeling. "I love you," he murmurs against my lips. "I love you so damn much."
"I love you too." I'm crying again, but these are happy tears. "I love you, and I want to tell Alana. Can we go tell her? I don't want her to worry that I left."
Winter grins, that same boyish grin I fell in love with when we were teenagers. "She's going to lose her mind. She whispered to me last night that she hoped one day she could get a mom like you."
My heart swells at the thought. "I don't want to rush that or overstep. I know she had a mom who left, and I don't want to…"
"Joy." He stops me with a gentle hand on my cheek. "You're nothing like Starla. Nothing. And Alana knows the difference. She's been looking for someone like you her whole life. Someone who sees her, really sees her, and loves her for exactly who she is."
"I do love her," I admit. "I know it's only been a few days, but I love that little girl so much already."
"Then let's go tell her." He takes my hand, leading me toward his truck. "Let's go tell her you're staying. That you're going to be part of our family. That she doesn't have to say goodbye."
"Wait." I stop, looking back at my rental car. "What about all of that?"
"We'll come back for it later," Winter says. "Right now, I just want to get you home."
