Page 53 of A SEAL's Heart
Ed’s staying. He’s not leaving, and he’s not running away.
I pull back. “Where did you go just now? I thought you left.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the front seat of the pickup. When he opens the door, the peace lily I gave him is on the passenger seat. It’s in a terrible state; the leaves are brown and crumpling, and the flowers have withered and died.
Next to it is a yellow bottle, and I pick it up and read the label.
“Plant food.” I look up at Ed. “You went to get plant food?”
He nods and indicates something else in the footwell.
I glance down as he pulls out a tin of paint. Two paintbrushes drop from the lid and into the footwell. He spins the tin around so I can see the front and points to the color.
“Forest green.” It’s the color I keep telling him will look good in the living room. But that doesn’t make sense. If he’s selling the house, why decorate now?
Ed sets the paint on the ground and strides over to the For Sale sign on the lawn. He grabs it with both hands and wiggles it loose. He pulls it out of the dirt and dumps it on the lawn.
“You’re not selling?”
He shakes his head and reaches for his notebook.
Jake wanted me to have the house.
I want to live here.
With you.
My heart soars, and tears spring to my eyes. “I thought you were leaving.”
He pulls out his notepad and writes something. Obviously, the strain of speaking is enough for one day. But it’s a start.
I’m never leaving you.
He rips the page out of the notebook and hands it to me.
It’s a promise, and I know what it means to Ed, to the man who’s never stayed, who doesn’t know what it means to stay.
I hold the note to my heart, and he pulls me close to him.
My gaze goes to the house, formerly my brother’s house, and I wonder if this is what he hoped would happen when he made his will the final time.
Sunlight breaks through the clouds, and I close my eyes and lean against Ed. We’ll never know what Jake intended, but he brought us together and I’ll always be thankful for that.
As sunlight warms my face, I imagine it’s Jake smiling down on us, always with us.
27
ED
Six months later…
The smell of buttery popcorn fills the room as Avery works her way over to the sofa carrying a large bowl of fluffy popcorn.
Her foot catches on the colorful rug she chose for the patch of bare floor between the kitchen and the living area. She stumbles and popcorn flies into the air and crashes to the ground around her.
“Oh no!”
I jump up from the couch, the sleek deep green three-seater that Avery matched with the forest green feature wall.
