Page 27 of Never Too Late

His precious girl.

Zara.

She was dancing around her dad’s legs, laughing and having fun.

Now, Sophie.

She was losing her patience. My grandmother was.

I dragged my eyes back to Dylan’s, and I had to cling to the posts or I would fall down into the well’s depths after witnessing the smile he was giving me.

God, how I wanted that smile and that look back.

Do it!

If it wasn’t so surreal, the experience of my grandmother almost barking her words in my head, I would have laughed. As it was surreal and the longing had me in its grip, all I could do was let into the madness and let the tears fall while whispering the wish I didn’t even admit to myself fully.

“I wish he was mine again. I wish I belonged.” I licked my suddenly dry lips and unable to stop myself, never once looking away from Dylan and Zara, I finished. “I wish they belonged to me.”

As the last word sailed from my lips, those hands that had a death grip on my waist, pulled me back down on the ground, turned me, and enveloped me into a tight hug.

“You did good, girl.” Mrs. McConnell patted my back. She kissed my hair as I wept into her neck. “You did good.”

9

Sophie

Banging bowls around my kitchen, I swiped hard across my face.

How could I be so stupid and believe I had a chance with Dylan again?

Just because he was nice to me the last two days, I stupidly convinced myself my wish would come true and he would once again be mine. Or that we could at last live in the same town without any ill feelings between us.

My delusions began when I came out of Mrs. McConnell’s fierce hug during which she kept kissing and petting my hair just like my grandmother used to do when I was little. I hadn’t known how much I missed it. It seemed that on every step in this town I was slapped in the face with one memory after another and the fact that I’ve been closed off and basically on autopilot for seventeen years. It was heart-wrenching, it was devastating. But it was also freeing and like I was slowly coming back to my old self.

In her arms, I wept for losing the most important person in my life. I wept for losing myself. For losing Dylan. For losing the future I was supposed to have. All the grief I kept a close grip on leaked out of me. But I also wept in gratitude that almost every single person in this small town in Colorado welcomed me with open arms. And I was finally home. I just had to find a way to grant Dylan’s wishes and leave, but not lose it again.

“Thank you,” I whispered in her neck, inhaling deep and savoring her flowery smell mixed with a hint of menthol.

She took me by the arms, pushed me back a little, cupped my face with her wrinkly, soft hand, and looked into my eyes. “Any time, my dear girl. Now go and talk to that man of yours. He hasn’t stopped looking at you since you stepped up to the well.”

I hadn’t asked whom she was talking about. And I haven’t corrected her in her disbelief that Dylan was my man. The truth was, I wanted him to be. But I also knew it wasn’t possible. I just simply nodded, kissed her cheek, and turned.

Zara came running my way. “You looked like a princess up there,” she shrieked.

“What, honey?” I was confused how someone dressed in jeans, and a gray coat looked like a princess.

“When you looked at my daddy and were murmuring something, all the lights started to glow brighter and it looked like your hair sparkled.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept looking at her as she danced her way through the crowd to her dad. And I followed her every step of the way.

“You okay?” Dylan’s question came as soon as I was in hearing distance.

“Yeah.” I nodded my head more than I actually spoke the words. I was drained and more than ready to find out if there were any trees left and lug it home, then go to bed. I decided to leave decorating it for another day.

He took a step closer to me, squishing Zara between us, and automatically my hand went to the top of her head, sliding gently into her brown strands. He tracked my movements and when I met his eyes again, they were glowing with gentleness. “You cried a long time, Sophie, are you sure?”

“Yes,” I hesitated. “It’s just that it was somehow strange up there.”