Page 120 of Between the Lines

I sit down to read the note resting on the seat.

But then I saw that same light in you start to dim. And I couldn’t bear to see you down. I had to fix it, I had to protect you. At first, I wanted to fix everything so my business didn’t suffer. That’s what I told myself anyway, until you moved into the guesthouse. You introduced me to your daughter, you pulled me into your life. And I realized that something was way more important than my business . . .

My heart jumps into my throat as I clutch my mouth, eager to keep reading.

Find the door with the for lease sign. Walk in.

What? I flip the card, searching for something else I might’ve missed, but there’s nothing. What door?

Then I remember that the retail space next door is vacant as of last week, and a few days ago a rental sign appeared.

I don’t want to leave the safety of this coffee shop, but I step out onto the sidewalk, inhaling the night air. With all the notes shoved into my back pocket, I walk a few steps over to the neighboring shop. Brown paper covers the windows, but the For Lease sign is taped on the glass door.

My muscles feel like putty, but I reach out anyway, pausing as my fingers wrap around the cool metal door handle. With a mustard seed of courage, and curiosity biting at me, I enter.

“Oh my—” My sandals scrape against the wood floor, my eyes adjusting to the light inside the empty shop.

The door clicks shut behind me, sudden and final.

The space is empty, bare-bones, old pine floors and brick walls with chipping white paint. But that’s not what has my heart pounding, threatening to burst right through my ribs . . . It’s the dozens of candles lining the walls, all flickering, leading my eyes straight forward.

Straight to him.

If there is oxygen in here, I can’t find it.

Caden stands tall, his face drawn in a contemplative gaze. My eyes drop to his clasped hands, another note card in his grasp.

“What’s going on?” I whisper, my breath hitched in my chest. I take two more steps, and stop. He steps forward, until mere feet span between us, close enough that I can see slight bruises under the gray storm of his eyes. My lips pop open, hand fidgeting to reach out and touch his face, but he holds up a white note card, stopping me. It’s small enough to fit in the palm of his strong hands.

“I need to read you the final note.” His voice rumbles, low and strong, commanding my attention, and all I can do is bob my head.

Whatever is on that card, I need to know.

I have to know.

Caden begins to read.

“You were more important than my business. You, Fia,” he says, gaze trained on the paper in front of him. I stand still, afraid if I move, everything around me will dissolve into thin air.

Caden’s brow creases as he reads, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was when you came over for dinner, and somehow got me to open up. Maybe it was the late nights at the pool that I never wanted to end. Maybe it was the fact that every time I heard your car come down my driveway, I’d smile without even realizing it. Or maybe it was after the first kiss, or when I held your daughter, or seeing you two dance around in my yard . . .”

I shake my head, barely noticeable, holding back the tears burning my eyes.

“Caden—” I whisper his name, but he doesn’t look up from the note card.

“I thought I had everything I needed in my life. But then you moved in, and I began to question everything I thought I knew for certain. For the first time I experienced how my house could feel like a home.” He pauses to quickly clear his throat. “And I knew I would do anything to keep that feeling. To keep you.”

I hold my hands tightly together, feeling perched on the cusp of every word.

“But I screwed up,” he says without looking up. “I thought I was protecting you, I thought I was helping you, but I was wrong. You didn’t need someone to fix everything, you just needed someone to be there, in your corner.”

He stops, dropping the hand holding the note card. We find each other’s gaze as a volcano of unsaid words bubbles through my chest.

“That’s what I want. I want to be in your corner, Fia. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re magnetic, that somehow you light up my world. And I don’t deserve you, but that doesn’t stop how I feel . . .”

His jaw tenses, and he dips his head, looking up at me from under thick lashes.

“I am madly in love with you, and I’m so sorry I hurt you.”