Page 107 of Lavender Lake
“He and I—we’d already met, Muddy,” I said. “The night of my layover in Denver.”
“Oh?”
“It was pure coincidence that we wound up on the same airplane and figured out who the other one was. We’d already—we’d—” I sighed. “We spent the night together.”
“Well, of course you did.” She reached for her mug. “The first time I saw you two together, he was looking at you like he couldn’t wait to get you naked again.”
“Muddy!”
“What? I’m not a prude. And knowing the blush in your cheeks and spring in your step the last two weeks, I’d guess you’re not a prude either.”
I groaned.
She patted my knee. “So tell me what happened at the lake and I’ll help you fix it.”
“I don’t know if it can be fixed,” I said softly.
“Love fixes everything.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Of course I do. Love brought you home, Salem. Love is going to fix your relationship with your father. Love will heal you. If you let it.”
My throat tightened.
“You never get over the death of someone you love,” she said. “You just learn how to live around it. But it’s always there. Like a knot in a tree.”
“Cas never said he loved me,” I admitted. Just that he fell hard and fast. Still, that wasn’t him declaringI love you.
“Not with words, maybe.” Muddy brought the mug to her lips. She took a tiny sip and lowered it.
I thought back to the moment when he’d gotten into the shower with me, clothes and all. He’d held me while I sobbed and hadn’t asked what it was about. Because he knew. He always seemed to know.
“Did he tell you when he was coming back?” I asked.
“Before the wedding, I’d imagine. But he didn’t say.” She cocked her head to the side. “You call him Cas.”
“That’s his name.”
She shook her head. “To everyone else, he’s Bowman. With you, he’s Cas.”
“I hurt him,” I said, my lips wobbling. “I didn’t mean to. I just—that’s what I do to people.”
“That’s not what you do.”
“No?” I got up and set my tea mug on the fireplace mantle. Then I began to pace. “I hurt Dad.”
“He hurt you too.”
“I hurt Gideon,” I added. “I hurt everyone around me.”
“Hadley doesn’t feel that way. Poet, Wyn. I’m guessing they don’t either. Your problem isn’t that you don’t love people, Salem. Youdolove them. And when you do, you love them deeply. You love them on a level that’s hard for other people to understand. That’s what I told Bowman.”
I came to a halt. “You told him that?”
“Yes.”
“Hadley told him that I’d break his heart and that he should stay away from me.”
