MY EYES ARE BURNING from staring at a computer screen for so long. I’m so close to the end, to finishing this book that I can’t stop. My fingers ache and I can’t remember the last time that I ate, but none of it matters because the words won’t stop flowing.
I take a deep breath, blinking a few times to try and get my eyes to focus. I’m at the ending of the book, writing the second to last chapter before the epilogue. I’ve been staring at a screen so long that tears burn at my eyes from the brightness of the screen.
This story is taking everything out of me in the best possible way. I type and type until I feel like I need a five minute break to collect myself before continuing.
I look around my room, wincing at how messy it is. I haven’t cleaned it in God knows how long. There are protein bar wrappers on the floor from when I’ve tried giving my body some kind of sustenance. My eyes land on my suitcase. It’s been a couple of months since I’ve been in Sutten yet I still haven’t fully unpacked. I thought if I kept it shut, only opening the suitcase to grab another one of Cade’s shirts, that I’d preserve the smell of him longer.
I slide off my bed, my knees cracking from sitting in the same position writing for hours. Crouching to my knees, I unzip the suitcase and open it slightly, trying to find another one of Cade’s shirts.
I don’t see anything in the tiny hole I’ve created. So I unzip it a little farther. There’s no way I’ve already made it through the entire stock I stole from Cade.
Or maybe I have.
My stomach drops at the thought. I just have a few more chapters. Probably only days until I can go back to Sutten to see Cade after finishing this book. I just need one more shirt—a few more days with his scent—before we’ll be together again.
Not caring about being careful anymore, I unzip the suitcase fully and throw it open. I sigh in relief when I find one final T-shirt left. It’s an old one from a 5K that Cade did one year while in Sutten. It’s worn and has the perfect softness. My hands reach for the fabric, pulling it out of the suitcase and to my nose.
Inhaling, I relish in the smell of him. It surrounds me, allowing me to pretend, if only for a few moments, that he was here in this room with me. When my eyes finally flutter open, I find an old copy of Our Story in the bag.
I set the T-shirt aside and reach for the book. It’s worn and well-loved. Like it had been read cover to cover many times.
I open to the first page. Stamped neatly is a line that says Sutten Mountain Book Exchange If Lost Please Return To… My fingers run over the neatly printed name on the line.
Linda Jennings.
Tears well in my eyes from the sight of her familiar handwriting. It’s not lost on me how worn this book is. It’s clear she read it a lot. There are tabs hanging out the side and pages that look to be dog-eared. I turn through the pages, tears falling down my cheeks as I read the little notes she’d left in the book.
I shift, bringing the book to my chest as I get comfortable. An envelope slips from between the pages, falling into my lap with a soft thud.
My breath catches when I see my name printed across the front.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, staring at my name in Linda’s handwriting.
My heartbeat picks up as I slide my finger under the flap of the envelope. There’s a small tearing sound as I open it as carefully as I can. I don’t know what’s inside, or when it was written, but I want to preserve anything I can from Linda.
A piece of paper is nicely folded inside. I carefully unfold it, a lump forming in my throat when I realize it’s a letter from Linda to me.
My darling Marigold,
There’s nothing I want more in this world than for you to be reading these words. If you’re reading this, it means Cade found you and gave you this book like I asked. I may have lied and told him that I wanted your signature, which I do want, but I gave the book to Cade with an ulterior motive.
I needed you to know from a mother’s point of view how much my son loves you. For years, I’ve watched him grieve you leaving. I’ve watched him mourn the loss of you all alone because he’s too stubborn to tell any of his family about the two of you.
But I’ve known. I’ve always known about the love you share for each other. You’ve always looked at my boy like he was your entire world. And I noticed the moment he started looking at you like that, too. I love you like my own daughter, Marigold, and I know you. I know you’ve always loved him. And I know my boy loves you more than anything else in this world.
I don’t know everything that happened between the two of you. One moment you both were happy and the next moment you wouldn’t come home, and Cade shut down. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, please know that, I’m telling you this next part because you need to know that whatever my sweet, quiet, stubborn son has done in the past, he loves you with his entire being. He hasn’t stopped loving you in the time you’ve been away.
Cade hasn’t been the same since you left. I thought maybe time would heal his wounds. Maybe you’d come back, maybe he’d laugh more, maybe you two would find each other again. But that didn’t happen. At least it hasn’t yet—until tonight. Tonight I looked in my son’s eyes, and I saw hope. I told him to read your book, I hope you don’t mind since I suspect most of Wade and Daisy’s story is reminiscent of yours and Cade’s. I think Cade has been under the assumption that there’s no hope for the two of you. But I can’t help but read the words you’ve written in these pages and think that there somehow still is hope. For the both of you, I hope that love can overcome anything that’s happened between the two of you.
From the moment your momma died, I’ve always wanted to take care of you, Marigold. I love you like I love my own children. I want what’s best for you. And from what I’ve observed over the years, what’s best for the both of you, is each other. The two of you have always been like magnets. It’s always been like you can sense each other. It’s something special that I don’t think comes around often.
You may not know this, but I know you used to sneak into his room late at night. I could hear your soft footsteps through the house. I wanted to scold you as a child for doing it, but I couldn’t. I’d open the door in the mornings and find you and Cade sleeping so peacefully. Your pinkies would be touching across the pillows, and I could tell that no matter the fact you had just lost a mother and your father was distant, that you were going to be okay.
Because of my baby boy, you were going to be okay.
I know this is long but I have a small request for you, Marigold. I know Cade held you together all those years—and he may not know it—but you were holding him together too. I ask that maybe this one last time, you help hold him together.
Please believe him when he tells you he loves you.
Please look in your heart…because maybe you still love him too.
After reading this beautiful story, I’m hopeful that you do.
So many beautiful love stories have endings. I hope that isn’t the case for you and Cade. I hope maybe the two of you can rewrite your story.
Whatever you decide, I will support you. I love you. I love my son. I will be there for both of you no matter what happens.
I’m proud of you. I’m proud to call you mine.
All my love forever,
Linda
P.S. Maybe I could watch you sign the book in person when you come back to Sutten? When you come back home?
Powerful sobs overtake my body. I can’t see a thing through the tears. I set the letter down, not wanting to ruin the paper from the tears streaming down my face. The letter must be from when Cade came to Chicago last year after he’d read Our Story.
I can’t believe the letter had been sitting in my suitcase all along. That it’d been in Cade’s possessions all along, and we didn’t know it existed. He must’ve slipped the book in my suitcase before I left. He couldn’t have known what waited for me in the pages of Linda’s book.
My shoulders shake as I try to take a deep breath. It’s a useless attempt, the more I try not to cry, the harder I cry. There’s so many feelings coursing through me that I don’t know what to think or how to feel.
I feel guilty for never coming back to Sutten knowing what waited for me there. I feel so sad that I can’t tell Linda to her face that Cade and I have found each other again.
And then I feel clarity.
Because nothing has ever been more clear in my life.
Sutten has always been my home. It always will be. And no matter what living in Chicago has done for me, I don’t want to be here forever.
And I can’t go another minute without being with the man I fell in love with as a teenager when he remembered my birthday and told me to make a wish.
Everything falls into place. I know the ending of my book. I know what I need to do.
There’s only one thing left to do.
