Page 110 of Wishing Hearts

I glance over at him briefly, knowing he’s talking about Sam. He is special, yet I can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Again, my dad is quiet for a moment. When I park, he turns my way. “It’s like he was made for you two, Harrison. I don’t really believe in soulmates, but whatever pieces make up the whole of that man, they fit against you. Against you and Winnie. Seeing him with her today…” He shakes his head. “He’s everything I’d hoped for the two of you.”

I nod, my throat tight. “Yeah,” I manage.

I’d stopped hoping. At some point in the past few years, I buried that little seed in my chest down deep. It was too painful, too raw to leave exposed without anyone to care for it. Numbness was easier. Resignation was safer.

Sam changed all that. He was so bright, so wonderfully warm, and that seed had no choice but to thrive again.

Maybe, in the recesses of my mind, I was ready for love. Or maybe Sam made it safe to hope. Whatever the reason, my dad is right. Sam is…everything.

“I haven’t forgotten what you said,” I tell him. “About being depressed. I’m going to talk to someone. I don’t… I don’t think I’m in that place anymore, but I don’t want to slip back there, either.”

And despite the fact that Sam makes me ridiculously happy, I know our relationship isn’t a cure-all for my mental health. It’s not fair to place that pressure on Sam, even inside my own head. At my core, I’m responsible for my own happiness, and that includes getting help if I start to flounder.

“Winnie, too,” I add. “I think it’s time we see someone so she can work through her feelings about her mom.”

I wanted so desperately to be enough for my daughter. To prove I could be everything she needed. But those insecurities about measuring up are my own, not Winnie’s to bear, and there’s no shame in asking for help. In accepting it from others. I’m learning that.

My dad squeezes my shoulder, a serious but warm expression on his face. “I’m proud of you, Harrison. Your mom and I, we just want you to be happy. Both of you.”

I nod, and my dad and I exchange a cramped hug in the cab of my truck. He heads inside—after reminding me Mom is surely going to want to come visit Winnie tomorrow—and I drive back home.

Tigger is waiting for me inside the front door when I arrive, and I let her out to do her business before the pair of us head upstairs. Much to my surprise, no noise is coming from Winnie’s room, and Tigger squeezes right inside, likely settling herself at the foot of Winnie’s bed. I find Sam in my bedroom, still awake.

“Hey,” I say softly, closing the door behind me.

He shifts upright as I come over, shirtless with the covers around his legs. “Hey. She fell asleep while I was readin’. Prob’ly ’cause it’s so late.”

I nod, settling beside him on the bed. “Thank you, Sam. For all of it. I know today wasn’t easy, but I’m really glad you were here for it.”

He swallows, brows furrowed slightly. “Except she prob’ly wouldn’t have gotten hurt if it wasn’t for me.”

“Hush,” I tell him, grabbing his hand and squeezing. “I told you I was just waiting for Winnie to break a bone. I’m not all that surprised she fell. And hey, it was only a sprain. I’d say we lucked out.”

He huffs, looking down at where our hands are tied.

“I imagine it was scary,” I say softly. He doesn’t respond, but his lips twitch. “I’m sorry, Sam. I wouldn’t have wished that on you, but I am glad you were here for us today. I’m glad every day that you’re here.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly, a small smile gracing his face.

“Yeah. In fact…” I shift a little, pulling my leg up between us and facing Sam fully. My heart pounds, a nervous thump-thump inside my chest, but I power on. “I was wondering what you’d think about being here every day.”

Sam lifts his gaze, and I can see it there, the hope that he heard me right. It makes it easier to say exactly what’s on my mind.

“Sam, I want you here with us. And maybe you’re not ready for that yet. If that’s the case, that’s fine. We can work up to it. But if you’d like to move in, I—”

I don’t have time to finish my sentence before Sam’s lips are crashing down on my own. He climbs over my lap, hands on my face and mouth doing its best to devour me. My surprise turns into a happy laugh, and Sam eats it up.

“Yes,” he says, kissing me again. “Yes, I wanna be yours. Yes, I wanna move here. I want you and Winnie and Tigger and all the mess. Yes.”

“It’s yours,” I say.

And then all I know is Sam’s mouth on mine. The feeling of home.

Yes. A million times yes.

Chapter 30

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