Page 43 of It Happened Back Then (Nilsson Family #3)
B ean Lake reflects the full moon, glowing under the sky like a nightlight. I park the truck and round the front, jogging to open her door before she can. She smiles as she takes my hand. “I’m able to open my own door, Bennett.”
“Not when I’m around.” She steps out and we join hands, walking to the water's edge. There are a few couples still here, but we find our own spot on the sand. It’s still warm from today’s sun, but the breeze blowing off the water is cool.
I brought her here because this is our spot. It’s always been our spot to come when we needed to talk, laugh, cry. It was our getaway from life. I take a deep breath, then another. Because this part? This is hard to say.
“I’m scared, Blossom.”
She turns to me immediately. “Of what?”
I keep my gaze on the lake and bury my hands in the sand. “Of being a dad. Of screwing it up. Of doing shit like my father did to us. ”
She doesn’t rush in with comfort. She waits for me to talk it out.
“When I confronted him, he said he did it for my own good. He didn’t want me trapped here, in a life that I wasn’t ready for.
” I look at her. “I get that we were young, but to interfere how he did?” I drop my head.
“I just don’t ever want to do that to our child and have them feel about me the way I feel about him right now. ”
She reaches over, slips her hand into mine.
“You won’t. Because the fact that you’re worried about it?
That’s proof you won’t be like him.” I let that sink in.
I want to believe her and maybe I’m starting to.
“But you can’t blame your dad for everything.
I’m taking ownership as well. He may have said it to me, but I didn’t have to listen. ”
“Blossom, no?—”
“It’s true, Bennett. I should have known better, trusted our relationship, trusted you enough to tell you the terrible stuff. And I’m scared, too. I worry about the baby’s health. I worry that I won’t know what to do. I worry that you may regret choosing me.”
I squeeze her hand. “First of all, I see how you are with Lily, and you’re going to be an amazing mom.
And for the other stuff, you’re here now telling me the terrible stuff; we’re working through it.
This baby is going to be perfect because it’s ours.
” I turn to her, brushing her hair off her shoulder.
“I regret a lot of things, but loving you? It’s never been one of them, Peach.
It’s not about getting it perfect. It’s about staying.
Showing up when it’s messy. Letting each other try again. ”
She nods, eyes glassy now, but she doesn’t look away.
“We don’t need to go back and right the past. We just need to be real in the present and hopeful together for the future.”
We talk for a long time after that, about baby names, about where we want to live. Both our places are too small for three people, but my cabin is ideal for now. There’s no pressure and no big promises, just excitement for what we’re planning and building together.
By the time we get ready to leave, the moon has risen high above the lake. She’s leaning against me, head on my shoulder, and I swear she dozed off for a couple of minutes. I help her stand then scoop her up bride style and walk to my truck.
As we drive back to my place, hand in hand in the truck, my heart is at peace just being in this moment.
There’s no chasing what we want or mourning the past.
We just breathe, together.