novelxo A False Start: Chapter 40
I know Nadia is getting home today at some point, but I’m not positive when. Which is why I’m sitting on the steps of the Airstream trailer I’ve been living in, staring at the freshly paved driveway on what was formerly a completely untouched piece of land.
Basically, I’m stressing the fuck out. I chuck a stick and watch Tripod rip after it with a gleeful bark. And I wait.
For her.
Earlier today, Stefan let me up to her room to put the final envelope on her pillow and then he told me not to let her walk out of my life again. He’s been a steadfast friend these past several months. He’s watched me crumble over my life, my career, and his sister.
He’s watched me be heartsick with every ounce of my being and hasn’t shied away a single time. He visited me in rehab. He took care of my horse for me that month. And he gives me updates on his sister that definitely don’t fall neatly into the ‘clean break’ category.
I didn’t need his approval to love her. But knowing he supports us definitely feels good.
It’s been six months since Nadia walked away from me. And they have been hands down the most agonizing months of my life, but also the most enlightening.
I finally got the support I’ve always known I needed but avoided addressing.
I finally had a reason.
Tripod drops the stick at my feet and then bounces on the spot, tongue lolling and black button eyes bulging in anticipation of my next toss. But then his focus shifts, and he bounds past me, yapping like a goddamn squeaky toy. As I follow the sound, I do a double take. My stomach flips, like I just dropped off the highest point of a rollercoaster.
She came.
I unfold myself from the aluminum steps, heart thudding loudly in the cage of my chest. Pre-Super Bowl jitters have nothing on this. All the words I’ve wanted to say to her for the past half-year are at the tip of my tongue, but when I take her in, every one of them dies on my lips.
I stand and face her as she walks in my direction wearing a simple gray t-shirt dress and leather jacket, head swiveling around the property. She looks older somehow, more mature, more self-assured. More at peace. There’s a security in her movements that wasn’t there before.
She leaves me breathless.
“Griffin?” She finally reaches the top of the hill and comes to stand mere meters away. Her voice quavers as she glances up at me, and I cram my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep from rushing forward and touching her. I ache to touch her in a way I didn’t know was possible. To slip her hair behind her ear, to brush my nose against the tip of hers, and then tuck her under my chin. “I came as soon as I got your note.”
She fits so perfectly there. And I hope with every ounce of my being that she still feels the same.
“Hi, Wildflower.”
Her lips roll together, her lashes blinking just a little too quickly. “You look good.”
I swallow and let my gaze scour her appreciatively. In a way that makes color streak across her cheeks before I respond, “I feel good.”
She nods. “Are you divorced now?”
“As single as they come.”
A small, satisfied smile tugs at her lips. Giving me a little taste of hope. “What is this?” She clears her throat as she turns away, eyes scouring the field of wildflowers. She only turns back at Tripod’s insistence. He’s pawing at her legs, ready to burst with excitement, and when she finally pets him, his little eyes flutter shut in pleasure.
And I’m momentarily jealous of a fucking dog.
“It’s . . . um. Well, walk with me. I’ll show you.” I wave a hand over my shoulder and turn away, both hating not seeing her and feeling relieved by not having to look at her for a moment. I’m staring down at my boots when I see her white sneakers fall into step next to them.
Here at the top of the hill, flat green fields stretch out on both sides of the barn and paddocks. It’s the perfect spot to build. Flat and at no risk of flooding.
We walk down the driveway, the silence between us practically brimming with questions. Usually, she would fill this space with adorable ramblings, but I think she might be speechless right now. For the briefest of moments her pinky finger hooks through mine, like she just can’t help herself. But when I turn to look at her, she drops it and pushes her chin down.
“Is this all new?” she finally blurts out as we approach the end of the driveway.
“Yeah. It’s . . . well, it’s partly therapy. Figured out I’m happiest and healthiest when I’m working with my hands.”
I peek at her again from beneath the brim of my favorite hat. The one my grandad bought for me at my first rodeo. It was too big at the time, and I didn’t find it again until after his death. It’s funny how something you didn’t even know you had can come to mean so much to you.
We approach the front gate along the main road. “I sort of thought you might come through this way.”
She hits me with a nervous smile, palms rubbing against her skirt. “I only remembered that one spot.”
I clear my throat, trying not to blow this. “Right.” I take a few more steps and then turn to face her, waving her ahead to join me. She regards me somewhat quizzically but does as I’ve asked.
“Like I was saying. This place is partly therapy.” She turns to face the sign at the front gate, and her hand shoots up over her mouth on a strangled gasp.
“But it’s mostly for you.”
The sign reads Wildflower Racehorse Rescue.
“Griffin.” All I can see is her back, the way her shoulders squeeze up tight around her ears as both hands come to cup her cheeks. I can hear her sniffle, but it’s been so long that I don’t know what’s appropriate. I don’t know if she wants me to touch her.
“Do you like it? I made it at rehab.”
“Do I like it?” She turns on me slowly, looking absolutely floored.
“The sign. I made the sign myself. Art therapy. Carved it. Painted it. I tried to use all the colors of the flowers I sent you.”
Tears streak down her face, and she goes pale, like she’s seen a ghost. Great, she hates it. Figures. I try to do something romantic and fail miserably.
She steps up to the sign where it’s mounted on two thick posts. Her manicured fingers trace the flowers I painted there before she turns to glance back up the hill. “And the barn?”
I scrub a hand across my beard. “Built that too. It’s been keeping me busy, that’s why I haven’t written lately. Didn’t want to bother you.” She stares at me blankly, so I just keep talking. “I wasn’t sure what color you’d want it to be, so I just went with white, because I thought it would be fresh and crisp. But it looked too plain. Didn’t suit you, so I added the blue tin roof and trim. We can change it.”
I’m rambling.
She blinks at me, hands sinking down to her throat. “Change it?”
My tongue darts out over my lip. Her responses are making me nervous. I wasn’t sure how she’d react but standing there vacantly repeating my words back to me wasn’t something I accounted for.
“Yeah. Whatever you think. I just want you to love it. There’s room over there to build a house. I just didn’t want to start that without your input. My plan was to have it overlooking the wildflowers.” I kick at the ground and peer up at her nervously. “I’m really blowing it here, aren’t I? I made a lot of assumptions. I know. If you’re over me, I’ll just—”
Her voice cuts me off. “Griffin. This is . . .” She looks around, mouth opening and closing as she searches for the words. Her arms flop down at her sides, and she finally gazes into my eyes, gifting me with a clear view of those beautiful whiskey irises. “This is too much.”
I just chuckle. She has no idea. Not a fucking clue.
“This isn’t enough, Nadia. To repay you for the way you’ve brought me back? It will never be enough. I’ll spend the rest of my goddamn life repaying the favor, and I’ll do it with a smile. This place is yours whenever you want it. With me. Without me. No strings attached. I want you to have it. I want to see you spread your wings and soar. To see all your dreams come true.” I pause, sucking in a deep, centering breath, and then I forge ahead like I planned. “But right now, I’m going to beg you to give me another shot. Before? That was a false start. This? This is a clean slate. I want all your right nows. All your tomorrows. I want it all with you.”
She sobs and shakes her head helplessly, but I don’t stop.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. But you’re not one of them. You’re the happiest accident I’ve ever known. The very best decision I’ve ever made. My reason.”
With two swift steps, she crashes into me, arms snaking around my ribs and hands grappling with my jean jacket, tugging me as tight against her as she can. I soften, wrapping my arms around her and letting the warmth of her seep into me.
I release a sigh I’ve been holding for six months.
She nuzzles against me, the dampness of her tears soaking through my shirt. She hiccups, and I press my cheek onto the crown of her head, tucking her in right where I’ve dreamt of having her. She still smells like sweet roses, and I let my eyes flutter shut as I soak her in.
She pulls back to look up at me, eyes glistening, heart-shaped lips quivering as she finally speaks. “For six months, I’ve gone without you. And do you know what I’ve learned?”
I blink rapidly, squeezing her again just to make sure she’s real. “What’s that?”
“I can do anything I set my mind to without you.” She pauses and licks her lips nervously. “But I don’t want to.”
Her head shakes in disbelief as she carries on. “Get over you? Are you out of your mind? I’ll never get over you. I have missed you every single day, Griffin Sinclaire. I’ve ached for you. Never let me walk away again. Tie me up, lock me down, keep me forever. I only ever want to do this life with you.”
The air between us crackles, and I don’t hesitate. I drop my head and claim those pretty lips, savoring the delicious little whimpering noise she makes when I do. Swallowing the words I so desperately needed to hear.
“I can do that,” I murmur, letting my hands roam her body, like I almost can’t believe she’s here. That this is real.
“Your notes kept me going.”
“Then I’ll keep writing them. I’ll write you notes for the rest of my life if it makes you happy.”
She gives me a shy smile from beneath her wet lashes. “Thank you for waiting for me.”
I clear my throat. Preparing myself to hand my heart over on a platter. “I’d do that for the rest of my life, too, if you wanted me to.”
She tugs me close, brushing the tip of her nose against mine like she always does. “I love the blue roof, Griffin. I love this place. I love how hard you’ve worked. On yourself and on this home for us. But more than anything, I love you.”
A genuine smile touches my lips, hearing the words that she’s never gifted me before. I never really cared. I’d have spent my life loving her whether or not she loved me back. But hearing her say it feels better than I could have imagined. Earning the love of a woman like Nadia Dalca is no easy feat, but she’s been worth every challenge.
She always will be.
“I love you, too, Wildflower.”
Her sigh is wistful, satisfied. “Good, can we be done waiting now?” She trails her fingers through my beard, and when I offer her a decisive nod, she guides me back down to her, hands winding around my neck and tugging at my hair.
And we stand there, wrapped up in each other at the entrance to what I hope is the rest of our lives together. Because I let her walk away from me once before, but this time I’m never letting her go.