Page 117 of True Blue

Instead, I jumped on the soonest plane I could, sat squished between two other broad men on the nine-hour flight, slept awfully as each of us tried not to take up too much room, and woke up with a giant crick in my neck. I still can’t turn my head to the left completely.

“How did you find me?” Indie asks me.

“Well, I remembered the hotel you booked… for us,” I start, Indie’s jaw tightening with each word. I continue sheepishly, “And then… I received a confirmation email that you had successfully checked in… I guess my email was still linked.”

“Yes, because I was supposed to be here with you,” Indie snaps. I wince, nodding my agreement. “So, you’re just—what, stalking me now? How did you find me here, in this pub?”

My ears are hot as I admit, “I went down to the lobby at seven and just waited until I saw you.”

Indie looks at me skeptically, “You waited all morning?”

I nod.

“I didn’t leave until 4.”

“I know. I waited,” I say easily.

And I would have waited forever, but once I saw her bustling out of the elevators in a hurry, it felt like my heart had restarted. I rushed after her, following her on the fifteen-minute walk to the pub.

“How do you rebuild trust?”

Dr. Meyer shrugged. “How did you build trust with Indie the first time?”

“It was slow. Over time. Telling her things I’ve never told anyone.”

Dr. Meyer nodded encouragingly. “So you built trust with…”

“Honesty. Patience. Vulnerability.”

“There’s your answer.”

So, I am completely honest.

“And I followed you here.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” she mutters, shaking her head.

“Indie, I’m not here to ruin anything⁠—”

Indie cuts me off, hissing through gritted teeth.

“What part of goodbye do you not understand? Or did the pictures and drawings—” her voice breaks on the last word, a flicker of pain and grief flashing over her face, like getting rid of them truly hurt her. It feels like knives. She takes a breath and clears her throat, “—could I be any clearer?”

“I know. I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to… shit,” I take a deep breath and reach under my shirt, pulling out the chain and unlinking it.

I feel Indie’s eyes on me as I take the thicker gold object off the chain, being careful with the smaller one as I link it and place it back under my shirt. I take the envelope out of my pocket and hold both out for Indie.

“Nana left you these.”

Indie eyes them, confused. “What is this?”

“It’s my Pop’s wedding band,” I hold up the precious gold object. Her eyes widen almost comically, but she reaches out with a shaky hand and holds her palm flat.

Gently, I place it there, and I’m a fucking glutton for punishment because my fingers brush so lightly against her soft skin, and it feels like an electric current running through my body. My heart thrums—Indie, Indie, Indie.

The proximity, smelling her sweet scent, looking at her gorgeous face, hits me at once, and I feel dizzy.

Indie places the ring on her right thumb, and for some reason, seeing my Pop’s cherished wedding band on the love of my life hits me hard. Nana must have gotten it cleaned before she placed it in the deposit box for Indie because it’s gleaming and bright, despite being fifty years old.