Chapman didn’t hesitate. He pulled me close, his hands framing my face, and kissed me with a tenderness that made my knees weak. Our family erupted into applause and cheers, and I heard Stella’s voice rise above the rest.
“About damn time!”
I laughed against Chapman’s lips, and he smiled, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against mine.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered.
“I’ve always been yours,” I whispered back.
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
There was cake—lemon-lavender, made by Charity because mine would have been inedible. There were hugs and congratulations, and Digger slapping Chapman on the back hard enough to make him wince. There was Stella pulling me aside to whisper, “You did good, honey. Real good.”
And then, too soon, it was time to leave.
Chapman and I were heading to Tennessee. To the Golden Skulls’ clubhouse. To his life, his world, his daughter. To our future.
I stood in my bedroom, staring at the small suitcase on my bed. It didn’t hold much—a few changes of clothes, some toiletries, the jasmine soap I’d made weeks ago. Everything else would be shipped later, but this felt so final. So permanent.
“You okay?”
I turned to find Faith standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I think so. Maybe.”
She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “It’s okay to be scared, Hope. It’s okay to feel like you’re leaving pieces of yourself behind.”
“I feel like I’m leavingyoubehind,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “And I don’t know how to do that.”
Faith’s face crumpled, and she crossed the room in three quick steps, pulling me into her arms. I buried my face in her shoulder and cried as deep, wrenching sobs shook my entire body.
“I can’t do this without you,” I choked out. “Faith, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” she said fiercely, her hands gripping the back of my dress. “You’re the strongest person I know, Hope. You’ve always been strong. You just didn’t see it.”
“You made me strong,” I said, pulling back to look at her. “You held me together when I was falling apart. You were there when no one else was. You’ve been more of a mother to me than Mom ever was, and I don’t know how to leave you.”
Faith’s tears were falling freely now, and she cupped my face in her hands. “You’re not leaving me, Hope. You’re just starting a new chapter. And I’ll be here, cheering you on every step of the way.”
“But I won’t see you every day,” I said, my voice breaking. “I won’t wake up to you drinking my terrible coffee or hear you humming in the greenhouse or—”
“You’ll call me,” Faith interrupted gently. “Every day if you need to. And I’ll visit. And you’ll come home. This isn’t goodbye forever, Hope. It’s just goodbye for now.”
I nodded, even though it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough.
“I love you,” I whispered. “So much.”
“I love you too,” Faith said, pulling me close again. “More than you’ll ever know.”
We stood there for a long time, holding each other, neither of us willing to let go. I memorized the feel of her arms around me, the scent of lavender in her hair, the steady rhythm of her breathing.
This was the woman who had bathed me after the pond. Who had held me while I cried over Chapman. Who had stood beside me when my brothers tried to tear us apart.
This was the woman who had raised me when our mother couldn’t.
And I was leaving her.
“Hope?” Chapman’s voice drifted up the stairs, gentle and cautious. “We should probably get going soon.”
