Page 110 of Run to Me

As I sit on the bench, leaning against a house devoid of affection, love surrounds me. All thanks to one man. A man who continues to become more agitated as the morning goes on.

Jensen’s responses are clipped and snappy to the point people stop approaching him altogether, eyeing him warily instead. The bigger the stress cloud builds around him, the closer people examine him. Menchy pulls him aside and tells him to go home because there’s not much left to do. Self-control leaks from Jensen as he struggles not to disrespect Menchy by speaking out of turn or saying something hurtful to the older man.

I stride toward him to see if I can calm him down. Sliding my palm against his and twining our fingers together, I say, “Hey. I need your help inside for a minute. Follow me.”

I’m surprised his neck bones don’t crack when his head snaps to attention at my request. I lead him to the guest bedroom and urge him to sit on the bed, and I straddle his lap.

“You said you need my help.” His tone carries a tinge of irritation, though it’s not directed at me.

With my arms draped around his neck, I speak my gratitude into his ear. “Thank you for everything. You’re such a good man, and I want you to know how much I appreciate you.”

“Maisy.” Huffing, he grabs my wrists to unhook my arms, but I grip him tighter.

“I mean it. Now just hold me for a few minutes. This has been an emotional morning, and I need you to hold me.”

His arms fall limply to his sides, loose hands resting on my hips. “This is reverse psychology,” he says.

“Is it working?”

A soft sigh passes through his lips. “Yes. I needed you to hold me too.”

With my head on his shoulder, I toy with his wavy hair. After a few seconds of comforting one another, I say, “I have a genius idea.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Let’s buy a tiny island with room for only the two of us and forget the rest of the world. I’ll do the hunting⁠—”

“Will you be naked when you hunt me?”

“Hush.” My laugh is a gentle puff of air on his neck. “I’ll hunt for meat while you gather berries and shit for soup.”

He chuckles. “Your storytelling sucks.”

Rolling my eyes, I say, “Whatever. You get the gist.”

“You and me,” he whispers.

“You and me.” I press a closed-mouth kiss to his lips to fortify our connection, but we don’t take things further. Sometimes the simplest gestures convey the most meaning. “Let’s wrap this up and go home.”

My referring to his house as home is a slip of the tongue, but saying it feels right.

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

It’s strange to stand in Vera’s yard, waiting for nostalgia to creep in when I’ve never given it much thought. It doesn’t creep. The only happy memories in this house involved Jensen, and this realization strengthens my resolve to step foot inside one last time.

At the sound of his Jeep approaching, I let out a grateful exhale. It’s time to put an end to my one-sided relationship with my mother, and I’m glad I don’t have to stand on my own.

“Ready?” he asks as he strolls toward me.

The natural highlights in his hair catch the morning sun, brightening the dark shade of brown. His green eyes glow with pride when he stops at my side and offers a steady hand.

I nod, feeling confident and strong. “Ready.”

With my hand in his, we step inside. I survey the changes made to Vera’s house last week to improve her quality of life and can’t help the laugh that climbs up my throat. The good people of Walford went above and beyond for a woman who wrote them off years ago. She snubbed them after Logan died, yet they came out in droves to show their support and offer their help with whatever she needed. Months ago, I would’ve been talking about Vera. But now I’m not. I’m talking about myself.

Everyone showed up for me despite the poor way I’ve treated them for years because I thought no one cared. I allowed my parents and brother to make me feel unworthy of love. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Unfortunately, Vera’s napping in her bedroom—which is how she spends her days now that she’s on a leave of absence from work—so my grand farewell will have to wait until she wakes. To kill time, and because this could be my last chance, I tiptoe toward Logan’s bedroom door with Jensen following close behind. Resting a hand on the knob, I waver in my decision to open it. Naturally, I default to worrying if I’ll upset Vera by entering the sacred space.