Page 67 of Your Love

But as years flew by and became indistinguishable from one another, I became comfortable in my new life. I did a fantastic job of living in the moment, but in doing so, I neglected the life I had built in Merrimack and the people who had mattered to me the most.

One thing I’ve learned is that every decision you make has some sort of consequence. Now, being back, I’m facing the consequences of my decision—choices that not only affected me but those around me.

Yes, I lost my memory for a brief time, but listening to Ivy recount the details of her abduction and time in captivity last night, I couldn’t help but think about everything she went through.

She lost precious years of her life and then endured the loss of a great love. And she went through it here in Merrimack while I was busy in Texas. It suddenly dawned on me how self-absorbed my decision was, choosing to tune out the world and everyone in it.

Of course, Ivy and Sash have always been understanding and supportive of my decision to stay in Texas after my accident, and we’ve managed to maintain a decent level of communication. But even with that, it’s still difficult to come to terms with the fact that I chose to leave everyone behind.

One of the biggest regrets weighing on me is Landry. He’s so angry with me. I think, on some level, I knew he would be upset that I never reached out, but the memory of his fiery eyes keeps flashing in my mind. The way he looked when I walked into the barn was near-disgust and only amplified more when he saw him more relaxed with his girlfriend later in the day.

I have no right to be upset about Landry moving on. I want him to be happy, and I pushed him away for that reason. That doesn’t mean seeing it didn’t hurt. Thankfully, I was able to avoid looking at him at the wedding ceremony this afternoon. I focused my gaze straight ahead and kept it solely on Sarah, but as soon as I could, I explained to Sarah that I wasn’t feeling well and booked it out of there.

Poor Sarah has her hands full with this trio of friends and our hockey-playing ex-boyfriends. Ivy, Sash, and I were all a mess prior to the ceremony this morning. We’re going to need to buy Sarah an extra fabulous wedding present to make up for the drama.

I’m finally somewhat relaxed, for the first time since I got home, sitting on the weathered porch of the house and listening to the familiar sounds of the farm. The clucks of chickens and the occasional bleat from the sheep are a soothing symphony in my ears. Believe it or not, the smell of fresh hay and manure mingling together has always been one of my favorites.

Suddenly, the peacefulness is interrupted by the rumbling of tires on the dirt road leading up to the farm. An older white Honda Accord pulls up and parks in front of the barn, its engine sputtering to a stop. I don’t think Nana and Papa are expecting any visitors this evening, and all my friends are at the wedding reception.

My curiosity piques as I watch a tall brunette step out of the car and walk towards me. She’s wearing oversized sunglasses that obscure her features, but there’s something strangely familiar about her.

As she approaches, I stand up from my spot on the porch and walk to the railing, trying to get a better look at her. She climbs the creaky stairs with confidence and reaches for her sunglasses, pushing them up on top of her head. As soon as I see her eyes, recognition floods through me like a wave crashing against rocks.

My heart skips a beat, and I rush down the stairs to envelop Paisley in a tight hug. Because her height advantage is about two inches over my frame, I wrap my arms around her waist. As she leans back, I take in her delicate features—full lips curved into a soft smile, warm brown eyes sparkling with affection.

“Paisley,” I say, the words trembling on my lips. “You’ve grown up.”

Her voice is like a balm to my soul as she responds, “Hi, Kerri.”

Tears well up in my eyes as a mix of happiness and nostalgia wash over me. I had heard from Sasha and Ivy that Paisley was doing better, but hearing her voice for myself is a whole other experience. No longer the scared little girl I once knew, Paisley now stands before me as a stunningly confident teenage young woman. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, framing her face with delicate beauty.

Gesturing towards her car, I ask, “Since when are you driving?”

“For over a year now,” she responds with a warm chuckle. My mind races, trying to recall the last time I saw her. It has been too long.

“Oh my gosh, I’m completely forgetting my manners. Please, come sit down.” I invite her. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“I wouldn’t mind some of Nana’s famous sweet tea,” she says with a nostalgic smile.

“Consider it done.” I rush into the house and open the ever-ready pitcher of tea in the refrigerator. A few minutes later, I return and take a seat beside her.

“It’s so good to see you,” I tell her sincerely.

“It’s good to see you too,” she replies, her eyes filled with genuine warmth.

A sudden wave of guilt washes over me for not trying to keep in touch with Paisley all these years. I had avoided reaching out because I knew my actions had hurt Landry, and I wasn’t sure how to navigate that in terms of his family. It was easier for me to duck out of their lives, but looking at Paisley now, I realize how much I have missed out on by not reaching out.

“So, what’s going on with you?” I ask her.

“Just high school,” she says.

I shake my head in disbelief. “What year are you now?”

“I’m a junior,” she replies.

I can’t believe what I am hearing. “And you’re completely okay now?” I ask hesitantly. “I mean, everything is back to normal?”

Paisley nods confidently. “I’m fine,” she replies. “I do still struggle with losing my voice when I get really frightened or nervous, like a lingering side effect of the trauma. But it doesn’t hold me back from living my life.”