After We Fall(97)

 

The hardest thing had been leaving Jaime and Claire and our weekly Girls Night Out, but I saw them at least once a month, and they were happy for me. At first, I kept my job at Shine but cut back my hours, spending a lot of time helping Georgia with the new house, preparing to open the Valentini Farms Bed & Breakfast, and making sure the new marketing push went as planned. Once the B & B opened in May, I left Shine and dedicated myself completely to marketing duties at the farm and inn. I also volunteered for the Fair Food Network, reaching out to farmers and families in the region and continuing to help spread the word.

 

I’d never been happier, which befuddled my parents a little bit, but they seemed content to focus on my father’s political career—he’d won his election—and give me a break.

 

Jack seemed happy too, and we’d grown infinitely closer since I’d moved in. His moods and silences grew easier to understand, his anxiety easier to manage. His nightmares were infrequent but terrifying, and I always wished there was more I could do for him, but he swore just having me there was enough. He loved me—I felt it, even if he didn’t say it too often.

 

I sat up in bed and looked around. He’d left the blinds down, so it was still pretty dark in the room, but sun peeked around them. I glanced at the clock, which told me it was just after eight. “Jack?” I called.

 

Nothing.

 

There was no way he’d forgotten, because we’d talked about it before going to sleep. It wasn’t like Jack to break a promise. I lay back again and gave it about ten minutes, then I sighed and threw back the covers. Maybe there was an emergency across the street?

 

I pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt and went downstairs. The front door was open, so I looked out on the porch. No one was there, although I noticed his truck was gone.

 

What the hell? It’s like he forgot all about me.

 

Grumpy that a morning in bed was not on the horizon, I went into the kitchen. He hadn’t even made coffee!

 

Angrily I poured the water and scooped the grounds, then crossed my arms and pouted while it dripped. The dumb old thing took forever, but Jack was funny about letting me replace things around here. Not because he was attached to them, but because he had a hard time letting me buy things for his house. “I live here,” I kept telling him. “Isn’t it my house too?”

 

He always said yes, of course it was, and hugged me in apology. Recently we’d had a long talk about redoing the kitchen, and when he balked at the cost of stone counters and tile floors, I’d put my foot down. “Listen. I am not trying to buy your love. I am trying to add a little bit of luxury to our lives because I like it and I can afford it and I’m spoiled, OK? You won’t let me buy Brad out, so at least let me buy the damn countertops.”

 

He’d grumbled about it but eventually caved, and a man was coming to take measurements this week. I was excited about it—I loved living up here with Jack, but I did miss a few things from my old life. And some high-end finishes in this beautiful old farmhouse could only make it better. I’d sweet talk him into things. I was good at that.

 

The smell of fresh coffee perked me up, and I turned around to reach for a mug. That’s when I noticed the note on the counter.

 

Had to run out. Back later. Can you collect the eggs?

 

I groaned. Not only had he forgotten about his promise, he’d asked me to do my least favorite farm chore. For some reason, I could not get comfortable with it. Those hens hated me, I could tell.

 

But I dutifully put on my boots, grabbed a basket, and trudged over to the coop.

 

The hens clucked at me as I entered. “Yeah, I know. Good morning to you, too.”

 

I checked the first box, and there was only one egg in there. I reached for it, scooped it up, and put it in the basket. The second box only had one as well, and when I went to place it next to the first, I noticed it had something written on it.

 

You’re beautiful.

 

It made me smile. I turned the first one over, and the smile widened.

 

Good morning.

 

The writing was undeniably Jack’s, and I looked around, expecting to see him standing there. He wasn’t.

 

I went to the third box and pulled out the egg.

 

Did you think I forgot?

 

I started giggling, my pulse picking up. He did remember! And look at him being clever and romantic!

 

Grinning, I reached into the next box and took out the egg.

 

I love you.

 

And the next…

 

I will always love you.

 

My hands were shaking as I reached into the last box in the row.

 

Turn around.

 

Gasping, I spun around.