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Also, I really, really love the color. I kind of want to reach out and pet it. Is that weird? Probably. I want to do it anyway.
“Please say something, Sadie,” Ben says, his voice wavering and uncertain.
Instead, I turn and kiss him, my hands moving to cup his jaw. I can’t believe he’s real. That he lovesme.That I spent so long resisting this man. That now, as soon as I stopped resisting, things are moving forward so quickly.
And that it doesn’t scare me in the least.
“It’s perfect,” I say. “Thank you.”
“I have to admit, I worried you might refuse,” Ben says. “I know it’s a lot. But I just want you to be safe. And I want you to have your independence, Sadie. Of course, I’ll drive to Atlanta too. I’ll come see you as often as you come here. Whatever it takes to make this work.”
“I know you will,” I say. “And I love that so much. But we won’t have to drive back and forth for long,” I say.
His eyebrows go up.
“Atlanta is just a city. I don’t have ties there. This is yourhome, Ben.” I look through the windows of the bar, where quite a few faces are close to the glass, watching us, including Frank. “And you are my home.”
I can see the impact my words have in the way Ben’s eyes go a little glassy, the way he works to swallow, the brusque way he nods.
“Okay?” I ask him, my voice rough.
“Okay,” he says. “But only if it’s what you really want. I would walk away from all of this to be with you.”
He would. I know he would. But the thing is—I want to be where he is. And as I think of the bar packed with smiling faces, I want to be here too. Oakley is more home than anywhere I’ve ever lived. It somehow worked its way into my blood throughall the summers spent here, through my connection to Gran, through my sisters, and now, through Ben.
I shake my head, shaking off his words. “No,” I say simply. “Our life is here. It’s what I want.Youare what I want.”
We kiss one more time, and a comfortable warmth settles into my heart. All that resisting, and here we are.
Who would have thought that the most infuriating man Ievermet would finally be the one to capture—and heal—my heart.
EPILOGUE
NINE YEARS LATER
Ben
“I don’t knowif I can do this.”
Sadie bites her lip, and I remind myself this is not a time to be thinking about her lips. I smile and run a hand over her braid, which hangs halfway down her back now. I love the length—but then, I liked it short too.
Over the past nine years, Sadie has tested out just about every look she could think of, and she pulls off every single one. I even loved the pixie cut she sported for a year, and I never thought I’d be into hair that short.
Turns out, with the right person, I can be into just about everything.
“You can do it,” I tell her, keeping my voice level. This is ultimately her choice, so I’m not going to influence her either way unless she asks. “If you want.”
Technically, all of her choices affect me and vice versa, but she and I learned early on that it works best for us when we discuss things together. In situations like this, we give the other person freedom to make the final call.
It might not work for everyone, but then, every marriage is different. This is what works for ours.
It’s how we decided she should leave Atlanta with a year and a half left on her lease and stop all the long distancing, which almost killed me for the few months it lasted.
How we decided to get married, then how we decided to make the wedding tiny—just family in a surprise ceremony on the yacht when they thought they were just coming to dinner.
And how we decided to have a second wedding ceremony, inviting pretty much every resident of Oakley to watch us repeat the same vows on the lawn of Genevieve’s bed and breakfast.
Mostly so they wouldn’t hold lifelong grudges for being excluded.
