Page 38 of Unspoken Love

He moved to the doors and opened them, then motioned for her to step outside. Her shoulders relaxed instantly. The fresh air, the quiet rustle of trees, the subtle crash of waves in the distance—it did something to both of them.

“I love it out here,” she said softly. “It’s like everything slows down.”

He moved beside her, resting his arms on the new railing he’d finished only a few hours before. “That’s the goal.”

She leaned against his shoulder, and he shifted just enough to be closer. Her weight, the warmth of her body against his—he hadn’t realized how tightly wound he’d been until now.

“And you still had time to start on the cabinets,” she said when they stepped back inside.

He nodded. “I haven’t built one yet. I was still unpackaging. They arrived shortly after I finished the deck.”

She glanced up at him, pride in her eyes. “You’ve done all this in just a few hours since I was here? I feel like I’ve missed so much.”

He chuckled, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Well, sleeping on an air mattress and showering in a busted-up bathroom is great motivation to get things done. Besides, I really want a kitchen to cook in.”

Her smile dimmed slightly at that. “I hadn’t thought of that. You should stay somewhere else.”

“I want to save on rent. I moved all my things into the barn from my rental unit. Besides, every restaurant in town delivers.” He laughed. “I’ve been thinking a lot,” he said gently. “About how fast things can change. How easily we take normal for granted.”

Faye nodded slowly. “Yeah?”

“I’m excited to get back to some form of normal.” He took her hand in his.

Their eyes held for a long moment, quiet stretching between them like a thread neither wanted to cut.

“Ready?” he finally asked, walking over and lifting his bag.

Faye didn’t answer right away. She was still standing on his new deck, her gaze lingering on the sunset, her arms lightly crossed over her stomach.

He watched her chest rise and fall with a slow breath before she finally turned to face him.

“Nate…” Her voice was quiet, hesitant. She bit her bottom lip for a second. “When my hearing disappeared earlier, when it all just went quiet…” She paused and looked away, blinking fast. “It wasn’t like the ringing in my head that I’m used to. It wasn’t even the static that my implant causes. It was just… nothing. Before my implant, I had muffled sounds. I could hear loud noises, even if I couldn’t make out voices or words.” She shook her head slightly. “This time, it was as if someone had cut the cord tethering me to any sounds.”

His throat tightened as he imagined losing the ability to hear. How afraid she must have been.

“I’ve always known this could happen someday. My entire life, doctors have been warning me,” she went on, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “that I would lose every bit of my hearing. My whole life, I’ve been holding on to this thread—this fragile little thread of sound—and today, I thought it had finally snapped.” Her voice wavered as her eyes teared up. “And the worst part was knowing that it might never come back this time. Nothing anyone could do would ever bring it back. This implant is my last hope.” She touched the side of her head.

Nate moved to her side slowly, letting her speak, letting the silence stretch.

“I don’t know who I am without that thread of hope.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and he reached up and gently brushed it aside. “I don’t know what I will be if I lose everything that I’ve fought for my entire life.” Her shoulders sagged slightly against his chest, vulnerable in a way that gutted him. “I’m scared of what my future looks like if this is the beginning of that.”

Nate didn’t hesitate, he gently framed her face with his hands.

“We can face that future together, if you’ll let me be there,” he said softly but firmly. “If you can’t hear, I’ll get better at sign language. I’ll find ways to make everything work, Faye. If Iian Jordan can run a successful business, then the possibilities are limitless. Besides, you’ll never have to go through any of it alone.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “You say that like life is simple.”

“It is,” he said. “Because it’s you. You matter.” His thumb brushed the damp corner of her eye. “You’re brave. You’ve been walking this tightrope your whole life, trying to do it all yourself. Not to say that your family hasn’t been there, but now that you’ve stepped out on your own, I can be here. I can be your safety net. Plus, you’ll see just what this town is made of. How much everyone steps up and shows you how much they care.” He smiled as she pressed her forehead to his chest, her breath a little shaky as she nodded.

“I’ve never let anyone in like this before.”

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, holding her against his heart. “Good. Then let this be the start.”

They stood there for a long while—just breathing, just being—until she finally looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and a soft smile.

“You’re going to regret offering to be with a woman who has unpredictable hearing and a tendency to cry when she’s tired,” she warned.

He grinned, brushing her hair back. “You’ve met my sister. I think I can handle anything you throw at me.”