Page 131 of Ruled Out

“I knew what was happening—that I was struggling with depression. But it wasn’t like I could really go to my dad since he was even worse off. I’d wake up to faint noises of him crying from his room and go to sleep to the same sounds. In that moment, I felt like I’d lost both my parents, and as an only child, it felt like my world was pretty dark all of a sudden. I’d gone from worrying about the length of my school skirt to wondering whether my dad was potentially suicidal.”

Jessie wraps his hand around the back of my head, leaning across and burying his face into the crook of my neck. “Sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry. And then I went and broke your heart all over again.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I get why you had to do what you did.”

On another deep breath, I continue, “That was when I walked past this florist. It wasn’t new or anything. I’d just never really paid attention to it before. It was the smell of the freesias they had on display that had me stopping in my tracks. I guess you could describe them as a warm hug in the fall. When I picked up a bunch and smelled them, I just remember feeling grounded,and that’s when it came to me—she used to keep them in a vase on our dining table. They were her favorite flowers, and Dad used to buy them for her. So, I did. I bought a bunch and took them home with me.”

I blow out a soft, tearful laugh. “It’s amazing what five stems of flowers can do—because they filled the room with my mom. When my dad got home that night, he dropped his bag at his feet by the door. At first, I thought maybe I’d made things worse for him. But when he saw them sitting there in the center of the table, he smiled. The same smile he reserved just for Mom.”

Holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger, Jessie brushes his lips over mine. “You know, each time I look at you, I convince myself there’s no way you could get any more beautiful. You can though, can’t you? Because your beauty is coded not just into your body, but every part of your soul, Mia.”

I sigh into his touch. I know I’ll never take the way he makes me feel for granted. “Is there maybe something that would help you feel connected with your mom?”

When he drops his eyes, a pang of despair hits me, as I’m reminded about how different our childhoods looked.

“Ginger. Whenever I smell ginger, I think of Mom,” he whispers. “It makes me think of Will too. She told me that when she was pregnant with us, she used to eat it to settle her nausea. When she lost Will, other than the booze, she’d comfort-eat ginger biscuits. She still did right up until the day she passed. I guess the smell of them is warm and comforting, you know? When I was a kid, I used to sneak a couple when I could, and sometimes, she’d break one in half and share it with me. Whenever I smell ginger, it takes me somewhere. Reminds me that Will was here once and maybe now my mom too.”

I kiss him, and then the driver takes a sharp left, bringing us back to reality and reminding me that Jessie was taking me somewhere.

“We’re nearly here,” he says, looking past me and out of my passenger window.

In the time we’ve spent talking, I didn’t notice we’d driven out of town and into rural surroundings.

“Where are we going?” I ask once more, trying to get him to break.

“You want to know right now? We’re only, like, a minute away.”

“Yes. I’m impatient.” I groan.

He chuckles and sits back in his seat, our hands still clasped together between us. “Hawthorne Hills.”

My brows furrow. “That means nothing to me.”

“It’s a quiet town with great views.” He turns to look at me. “Close to your university too.”

My heart leaps in my chest. “W-why would that matter?”

Right as the question leaves my mouth, our driver turns onto a private driveway.

Rolling down his window, he speaks into an intercom. “Hi. Mr. and Mrs. Callaghan are here to view the property.”

I choke on my own breath as it leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and Jessie throws his head back, chuckling.

As the gates open, he turns to look at me, his head still resting against his seat. “Just as I thought.”

“Thought what?”

He smiles brightly. “I told the driver we were married—which was risky for the rumor mill, I know, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to know what it would feel like to hear you take my name.”

A giddy smile pulls at my lips. “And?”

He shrugs and dips a hand into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys and dangling them between us, and I look up and take in the big white house with double doors and a glamorous porch.

“Just like this house that I want to buy for us. Fucking perfect.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

MIA