“But it’s messy!” She was still half smiling, but her expression also twisted reluctantly. “I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t want either one of us to get hurt.”
“So we won’t hurt each other. If we both want that, I don’t know why it has to be complicated.” He leaned closer to say in little more than a breath, “Ria, sweetheart, we were made to be together.”
She made a whimpering sound. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He pulled back enough to look in her eyes, and the hesitance he saw there made him straighten up and drop his hands. “Okay. If you’re not sure yet, then I can wait. But you know what I want. It hasn’t changed in all these years. It’s never going to change.”
She nodded, her face still tight with indecision and anxiety and something he hoped might be excitement.
“I’ll call you later,” he said, glancing at his smartwatch. It was late in the evening. Later would be the middle of the night. “Or tomorrow, I guess.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll talk to you then.” For a moment she looked torn. Frozen. Then she stretched up on tiptoe to press a kiss against the side of his jaw. Then she jumped into her car and drove away.
He stood and watched until her car was out of sight, disappearing around the curve of the long driveway. Then he walked slowly back into the house, feeling relaxed. Satisfied. Kind of hungry. Tired in a good way. Like he could sleep for about twelve hours straight.
He was in the kitchen, searching through the refrigerator for something easy to eat, when Martha found him. “Jacob.”
He turned around, his mouth full of a slice of cheese he’d just stuffed into it.
“It’s your grandpa.”
All the soft flutters he’d been feeling clamped down into a heavy weight that sank into his gut. “Is he—?”
“He’s worse. I’m not sure he’ll make it through the night.”
Any word he might have said was trapped in his throat. He chewed and swallowed, nodding soberly at Martha’s tightly worried face.
“I can stay if you want me to,” she said.
He shook his head. “No need. I’ll sit with him tonight. He won’t be alone when he goes. I promise.”
“Okay. I’ll be back early tomorrow. Just call if you need me.”
When she reached a hand out toward him, Jacob took it. Squeezed it. Stood in place until she’d left the house, the screen door banging behind her.
He grabbed another piece of cheese and a bottle of water, although he wasn’t really hungry anymore. Then he went to sit in the chair beside his grandfather’s bed and started waiting for the end.
RIA WAS SURPRISED THE following morning when she didn’t hear from Jacob first thing.
Not that he needed to call or text. It wasn’t even nine in the morning yet. A lot of people slept in late. He’d had a hard few weeks. He was probably exhausted. Maybe he was sleeping in. He’d touch base when he was up and ready.
He didn’t need to call her at seven in the morning just because she was awake and wanting to hear from him.
She did some laundry, drank coffee, and putzed on her phone for a while since this was one of the mornings she didn’t need to be in early. But eventually she had to take a shower so she could get to the shop by nine. She didn’t feel like working this morning. She wanted to spend the whole day with Jacob.
But she realized how dangerous those feelings were—especially this early, when nothing was decided between them—so she tried to ball them up into a tight wad and stuff them back into a deep, dark hollow of her mind.
At eight thirty, she was still thinking about him, no matter how rigorous her attempts to control her brain. She was on the edge of sending a quick text—just to check and see how he was doing—when her phone chimed.
She grabbed it up and searched the screen to discover the text message wasn’t from Jacob.
It was Martha.
Don’t wanna overstep but you might get over here if you can. Jacob’s been up all night with his grandpa. I’m worried about him.
Ria stared at the words until they processed. Then she sent a quick I’m coming! back with shaky fingers. She called up Skye to ask if she could cover the shop this morning, at least for an hour or so.
When Skye agreed, Ria drove over, confused and worried and completely unsure of what she would find when she got there.
What she found was a worried Martha, a mostly unconscious Mr. Worth, and a Jacob who looked dazed and pale and wouldn’t leave his grandfather’s bedside.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Jacob mumbled when he finally registered Ria’s presence in the room.
“I was worried about you,” she said, stepping over and putting a hand on his shoulder. “So is Martha. You need to get a little rest and eat something.” She gave him a gentle pull.
He resisted with a scowl. “I’m not going to leave him alone!”
She winced and looked down at old Mr. Worth. He was evidently still breathing, but she didn’t see any evidence of it. She’d never seen anyone this close to death before. Her parents had died in a car accident, and Belinda had been the one to identify their bodies in the morgue.
Ria hadn’t been able to do it. She’d seen them all fixed up for the viewing at the funeral, but she’d hated that. It hadn’t been them. It had been fake, empty copies of the people they used to be.
This was different. Mr. Worth seemed to be dying every moment she stood there.
“I’ll sit with him,” Martha said quietly. “I’ll sit here for a couple of hours so you can rest. He won’t be alone if he goes. I promise.”
Jacob’s face twisted dramatically. He was staring at the floor.
She rubbed his broad shoulder. “Come rest for an hour, baby. I’ll stay with you. Please.”
He raised his head to stare
