When Milo left Dusty Hollow, when I went to college, when my dad had his accident . . .
I was waiting for Milo to choose me. To come back. To beg for my forgiveness.
It turns out I do love drama.The romantic kind.
But the truth settles over me, simple and undeniable.
I could have chosen Milo.
I could have left what I knew, what was expected of me . . .
I could have shown up at his door with a smile, and his warm grin would have spread out on his face. He wouldn’t have made me beg.
I look back inside the box, and a crisp white paper lies at the bottom of the pile of notes with bold font. I reach for it.
Try Something You’ve Never Done
Choose me—if I’m what you want.
I stand quickly, the box tipping over from my sudden action, Milo’s ink and all the ways he missed me over the last ten years at my feet. I was with him always.
And now I have a plane to catch—and a man to choose.
58
SADIE
Whydoeseverything move so slowly when you know you have somewhere to be?
Once I finally make it off the plane, my carry-on practically flying behind me, I step out of the sliding glass doors, a November chill zipping up my spine, to catch a ride to the stadium. Joe checked Milo’s schedule, and he should be there for practice. Season is in full swing.
I know I could text him, but honestly, where’s the drama in that?
I realize, of course, that most people use Uber, but I don’t have the app, and it seems like a waste of time to figure it out now.
So instead, I throw my arm up with as much command as I can muster, my gaze intent on the yellow cars, and yell, “Taxi!”
Within seconds, one pulls up next to me and I slide in without any hesitation. “MetLife Stadium,” I demand.
The driver nods and his foot presses hard on the accelerator, slightly tossing me against the back of the seat. I grin.
I tug at my red beret that matches the red on my lips. Then I smooth out my hair with my fingers and tuck it behind my ears. I watch out the window, allowing myself to be in this moment. Tobreathe. To calm the erratic pace of my pulse. To reflect on the words Milo gave me in his notes.
Milo won’t say no to me, but he’s waiting for my yes.
“How much longer?” I ask the driver.
“Five minutes,” he replies. “Are you late?”
I grin. “No, I’m right on time.”
When the driver pulls over, I hand him cash before sliding out and rolling my suitcase behind me. I head toward the doors I followed Milo through before. It’s funny how timing works for you when you aren’t fighting it—because there’s Caleb, as if he’s waiting for me.
“Sadie?” he asks, his face pure surprise.
“Hi, Caleb,” I say before I drop my suitcase and wrap my arms around him in a big hug just like he did to me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks when I pull away.
