Page 52 of Silver Linings

thirty-one

. . .

Who are you?

I’ve been mulling over Nan’s words since I had to leave her and Kena to come open the store. As I walk up to the shop, every thought leaves my body when I see the door slightly ajar.

I know I locked up last night.

My irrational brain supplies every worst case scenario, and the one leading the charge is the attacker from all those weeks ago coming back for revenge. I would never recover financially or emotionally if the store was robbed.

I slowly approach the door, pushing it open, peeking my head in and smelling sawdust and something chemical.

When I step inside, my body comes to a full and complete stop so abrupt, I nearly drop the second coffee I picked up on my way over with money Nan gave me to get food because I looked peaky .

Hendrix is here.

Hendrix is here?

And he’s on the second floor? Staining the banister?

Question after question swirls around in my mind like a tornado. Where the hell has he been? How is he up there when the staircase is broken? Why are there tarps covering my shelves? Why is there sawdust on the floor? And why on Earth does he look so goddamn delicious?

“What are you doing?” The words come out of my mouth without me even realizing it.

Hendrix whips his head down to me and smiles, but his gloriously beautiful grin fades as he takes in the look on my face, the dark circles that are no doubt under my eyes.

Slowly, he sets down his staining rag and bucket and makes his way down the stairs.

I brace myself for the areas I know are broken, waiting for them to creak and snap and send Hendrix tumbling down.

But with every step down the stairs, there’s silence, the boards are quiet beneath his feet until he’s stopped in front of me.

“Sunshine, I—” he starts, but I quickly interrupt.

“Where the hell have you been, Hendrix?”

Out of nowhere, there’s a crash upstairs before I see Sam and Jae’s heads pop up, both men looking sheepish, and brandishing their own staining supplies.

“Sorry.” Sam starts to canter down the steps with Jae on his heels. “Let us just get out of here before you start laying into him.”

“Try to avoid his pretty face when you start swinging, Silver,” Jae says as he claps Hendrix on the shoulder.

I watch them smoothly exit the store, and when I turn back, I realize Hendrix never took his eyes off me, the gold striations blazing brighter than the rest with a look of determination.

He goes to reach for me, but I step out of his hold, and his hands and face fall. “There’s nothing I could do or say to make this right.”

“Try.” My voice cracks on the word, desperate for him to fight for me.

“I’m so sorry, Sunshine. I broke a promise to you when I wasn’t here for you yesterday, to see you get everything you’ve been working so hard towards.

And I know you.” He risks a step towards me.

“I know your instincts are telling you to put up your walls again. I don’t have a right to ask, but if you need those walls to feel safer, I’m begging you to let me stand inside them with you. ”

My breath hitches, and I stare up into the face of the man I’ve spent months slowly falling for.

“Why weren’t you here?” An errant tear charts a path down my face before Hendrix reaches his hand up to brush it away. I lean into his touch automatically, breathing him in, missing him even though he’s right in front of me.

His face falls slightly. “I was in Seattle.”

My head jerks out of his palm, and his hand lingers in the air, expecting me to fill it again before dropping down to his side. “What? Why?”

He wouldn’t go to Seattle out of nowhere, and he certainly wouldn’t go and not tell me about it. So why hadn’t he?

“My mom called me early yesterday morning. Laurel was in a car accident.”

A gasp falls from my lips, and on instinct, I’m reaching for him. “Is she okay? Are you okay?”

His breathing levels out a little when he looks down to where my hands grip his shirt.

“She’s okay. Mom called me in a panic, and I didn’t think.

Every fear I had from Maddox’s accident came flooding to the surface, so I ran to the airport and hopped on the first flight out.

I lost my phone and couldn’t get a message to you.

I came back last night and came straight here, but you had already gone home.

So, I’m here,” he indicates to the staircase behind him, “grand gesturing.”

“We need to get you back to Seattle, then. You should be with Laurel, with your family.”

Hendrix’s face falls.

“Do you not—” His voice goes hoarse, and he looks down into my eyes, pleading with me.

“Please forgive me. Don’t push me away. I can’t…

” A single tear drops from his eye. “I can’t do this without you.

Everything has meaning again because of you.

” His hands tentatively settle on my waist. “I don’t deserve it, but I want it, need it.

I need you and your light every day. My world was gray before you came barreling into me, throwing it into technicolor. Please .”

I step toward him, and he holds his breath as I reach out a hand and cup his jaw, wiping the tear from his cheek. “I just meant you should be with them. I know what getting that call must have done to you. Being back home might bring you more comfort. I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”

He turns his cheek, kissing my palm. “Laurel is fine; she practically shoved me out of the door with her crutches to come tell you what happened. I’m exactly where I am supposed to be.

” He leans his head down so it’s resting against mine.

“My place with you is where I need to be.” He breathes me in and I inch my body a little closer.

“I told you once I would always come back for you. I’m sorry I was a little late.

” He places a gentle kiss against my brow.

“It’s okay?—”

“No, I should have found a way to tell you what happened. I should have been here.” There’s desperation lining his handsome face.

I feel a certainty burning in my chest that he never would have missed the re-opening for anything less than an absolute emergency.

And it’s so easy to forgive him when he’s looking at me so earnestly, so easy to remember all we’ve gone through together that led us here.

Everything has always felt easy with him—natural.

Something worth fighting for.

“You were.” He looks at me quizzically, not understanding.

“You were here, in every paint stroke, in every floorboard replaced, in every perfect shelf—you were here. You have been here, every day for months. I felt you everywhere yesterday, I couldn’t escape it—couldn’t escape you . I don’t ever want to.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he says, looking at me like I’m some sort of miracle.

I smile at him, and I feel lighter than I ever have. “I think we deserve each other.”

We both stand there, breathing each other in, content in the quiet.

“Tell me about how the day went?”

I start with Carol James showing up.

Hendrix jerks back. “Your mom was here?”

I quickly tell him everything that happened yesterday morning, his face morphing from shock to outrage to sadness on my behalf.

“How do you feel about it all?”

“Upset…but also proud? For standing up for myself.” The pride in his eyes warms me from my head down to my toes. “She left some sort of note, though. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read it.”

“Do you want to do it now?”

I shake my head. Whatever she had to say, she waited years to do it. A little more time in blissful ignorance wouldn’t hurt.

I smile softly at him. “I’d rather you tell me how you broke into my store and what you’ve been doing in here.”

“I didn’t break in,” he says, abashed as he rubs the back of his neck. “I called Kena, who got me in contact with Holly, who let me in last night.”

“Kena knew you were here?”

He nods in confirmation. I guess that explains my best friend’s vehemence earlier this morning. The whole time, he knew Hendrix was here waiting for me.

“I wanted to do a grand gesture to apologize for missing the store reopening and enlisted the help of Sam and Jae so we could finish on time. The staircase and the second floor landing are safe to use. I was just finishing up the staining so it matched the floors when you came in.”

I reach out and grab his face, stroking my thumb back and forth across his cheekbones, amazed, but not surprised that he would do this for me.

He’s been showing me from the very beginning, waiting for me to catch up, and I’m finally starting to believe that I’m worth it.

He is the lighthouse guiding my ship home, because that’s what I feel when I’m with him—I’m home.

“Where did you get all the supplies to do this overnight?” I redirect.

“I may have had Sam call every hardware store in a twenty mile radius until I got all the materials I’d need.”

“Can I go up and see it?” I whisper in a way that belies my excitement.

He grabs my hand and pulls me towards the stairs, tugging me once we reach the base, as if he can sense my reluctance to climb them. “Come on, Sunshine. I promise it’s safe. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

And he’s right. Not a single step creaks or moves beneath my step.

They’ve all been rebuilt with structural integrity that feels poetic on a personal level.

Somehow, the stairs were a metaphor for how I felt inside—broken and unusable.

But this store, this new direction I have in life, is the renovated version of me.

When we’ve reached the top, my eyes line with tears for what feels like the hundredth time today.

I never realized how lovely it could be up here. It’s only about a third of the size as the lower level and hangs over the back section of the store. The low ceilings up here lend to its cozy feeling, and I note Hendrix installed sconces along the wall to bring a warmth to the space.

“It’s perfect.” I choke slightly on the words, unable to express my gratitude. “Thank you.”