He already knew the world wasn’t a fair place. He only had to step outside to be proven right on that accord. But for Hayley tohave experienced all she had, for her to live under the shadow of an unstable future when she should be standing on the precipice of a million possibilities and a lifetime to explore each one, to talk like she’d already given up without a fight...
He shook his head. Sometimes reality was too hard to believe.
I’ve always tried to live in the moment. None of us are promised tomorrow, but my tomorrows seem even more uncertain, and because of that, I’ve attempted to make every day that I do have count. The here, the now. Living every day to the fullest. I don’t look too far into the future. I don’t really plan ahead. I just ... am.
But you, Levi. You aren’t built that way. You are steady and true. Methodical and routine. You have structure and stability and longevity. Your life is a straight path ahead of you, and I think that’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
Levi’s throat thickened. He didn’t like the tone Hayley’s words were taking. As if in writing this down, she was coming to a decision all on her own. That whatever path she saw him on was one that she couldn’t walk along beside him.
I’ve learned that the key to happiness is gratitude. I have to be grateful for what I’ve been given, especially when I’ve been given so much. Literal life! If I lose sight of that, if I turn my eyes from the things I do have and start wishing for things that just aren’t in the cards for me—things like growing old with someone I love and who loves me in return—then I’m robbing myself of a contented heart during the time I have left.
You deserve forever, Levi, but I just don’t have forever to give.
She’d signed her name at the bottom, but the last two letters were smudged. Evidence of a tear that had fallen onto the paper and dried. Evidence that essentially ending things between them before they’d ever truly gotten started was hurting her as much as reading those words had hurt him.
It was all the evidence he needed.
21
“I really appreciate all of your help this morning,” Jack lifts his ball cap off his head, then runs his fingers through his dark curls before resettling the cap back in its place. “I would’ve had to close up the store if you hadn’t watched the place for me.”
I smile. “It wasn’t any problem at all. Is everything okay with Shelby and Anna Leigh?”
“Oh, everything is hunky-dory now. Their toilet was overflowing like the banks of the Ocoee after that storm, but I was able to get everything fixed right up.”
That’s some imagery I could have done without. “Well, I’m glad you were able to lend a hand. They’re lucky to have such a helpful neighbor like you.”
Jack shrugs. “Shelby’s my sister, and Tom—that’s her husband—is my best friend. He’s up in Alaska right now, working on a seasonal fishing boat. It’s a tough situation, but the money is good.”
“I’m sure it’s a relief to both of them to know that you’re close by.”
“Even if I wasn’t, Shelby has the support of the community. Turkey Grove is tight-knit. We take care of one another here.”He eyes me, a gleam entering his gaze. “You know, there might be something else you could help me out with.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask warily, not quite sure I care for that particular look on his face.
“We have a town small business meeting coming up here shortly and would really love it if Levi joined us. Think you could do a little persuading on that front?”
My cheeks heat to think of the display I must have made of myself for Jack to have picked up on my feelings for Levi. The slight warmth turns to a scolding burn in an instant as I remember the letter I’d left him to find in the laundry room when he went to feed the kittens. Whatever sway or connection I might have held, I’ve severed it with that letter.
Has Levi seen it yet? Read it?
Maybe I should’ve told him my history sooner. There’s never really a good or organic time to blurt out you’re not sure if you’re going to wake up one morning in organ failure and die. I’ve never told any of the guys I’ve gone on dates with because there’s never been a need. We both knew that we were only together to have a good time. We enjoyed each other’s company and had fun, but neither of us was in danger of losing our hearts to the other and therefore there wasn’t any risk, only reward.
But Levi isn’t like that.I’mnot like thatwithhim. It’s way too easy to think about what could be. To picture myself beside him ten, twenty, forty years down the road, kids and grandkids surrounding us with laughter and love. To forget the realities that are my life. That if I were to get pregnant, it would be one with high risks and the danger of something going wrong with either my health, the baby’s, or both. That there isn’t any guarantee that my donor liver will continue to function the way I need it to, or that if it does stop working properly, a new liver can be found and a second transplant performed. Or if I’d accept it.
I hadn’t sat down with a pen and paper with the intentionof slamming on the brakes between us. I’d only thought to answer his questions about why I’d spent time in the hospital. Open myself up a little more and share about my past, hoping that he’d do the same and I’d get even more vignettes into what experiences had formed Levi Redding into the man I know. But as I wrote, my mind kept turning. Things I’d refused to entertain before kept resurfacing, refusing to be pushed back down any longer. My mind kept forming that picture decades down the road, and I realized the heaviness in my chest was grief over something I don’t have and possibly can never have.
“Hayley?” Jack’s voice shakes me out of my introspection. “What do you think? Can you talk Levi into joining us?”
I paste on a smile even though my insides are now a puddle of emotional mush in the pit of my stomach. “We’ll see,” I say noncommittally.
Jack bobs his head in acknowledgment, then says he’s going to be in the back working on inventory if I need him. I wave him off, moving in the opposite direction to return to the little setup I have outside under an elm tree. It’s slightly secluded, but I’ve been in this spot every day for well over a week, so people know I’m here. So far today, I haven’t had even a single patron stop by, but the morning is still young.
Sitting down, I pull out my little notebook and a pen, thumbing through the pages until I find the next empty space. The pen scratches the paper as I write the day’s date at the top andFilled in at theGeneral Store for Jack MacDonald so he could handle aplumbing emergency at his sister’s house.
It doesn’t feel like enough.
It will never, can neverbeenough.
