Jeez, Shepard, I thought you were going to pull out a shiv and stab me in the heart as your grand finale.â
I laugh, winding my arm through Theoâs as we leave the hotelâs on-site tennis court, where we just played three sets. âWouldâve been unnecessary bloodshed. I proved my point when I wiped the court with you.â
He looks over his shoulder to make sure no oneâs around, then gives my ass a punishing squeeze. âYou barely beat me in the last two sets, and I kicked your ass in the first.â
âStill beat you,â I gloat.
âIâm never going to hear the end of this, am I?â he groans, squinting against the early-morning sun.
âUnlikely. But you can challenge me to a rematch when we get home.â My heart beats hard, and not just from my victory; itâs the first time either of us have talked about specific post-vacation plans.
Itâs time to start making them, though. After spending the night in Palm Springs, weâre driving home in just a couple hours, though Iâm trying not to think about it. I wonât be wrapping myself around Theo tonight, listening to his heartbeat as I fall asleep, or waking up to him tomorrow morning, getting the sleepy, vulnerable version of him.
âYou were on your phone early this morning. Everything good?â he asks as we approach the elevator.
I shake my melancholy thoughts away. âOh yeah, I got a reply back from The Peaks Resort. They want me in Tahoe as soon as possible, and I said I could come up anytime next week. They confirmed Thursday was perfect.â
Theoâs eyes widen. âReally? Thatâs quick.â
âI have absolutely nothing else going on, and I get to stay there for free for a nightâor two, if I wanted.â
We step into the elevator, and he backs me into the wall, gripping the handrail on either side of my hips. His neck is damp with sweat, cheeks flushed, eyes bright as they move over my face.
âWant to come with me?â I tease.
Storm clouds enter his eyes, chasing away the light. âUh, I donât think thatâs possible. Iâll be deep in shit next week.â
I tug on the hem of his T-shirt. âNo kidding. Iâm just daydreaming. I know I canât ask you to escape real life so soon after getting back to it. Theyâre probably going to superglue you to your desk.â
âIââ A muscle tics in his jaw as the elevator dings; weâve arrived at our floor. He looks over his shoulder, and says, faintly, âYeah.â
The change in his mood is so abrupt that I grab his wrist as we exit the elevator. âHey, wait.â
âIâm good,â he says, anticipating my next question. âI just . . .â He runs an agitated hand through his hair, looking at me. âI guess Iâm not quite ready to think about being done here.â
My chest goes tight. âIâm feeling it, too.â
âWeâve got close to an eight-hour drive, though, and I donât want you getting home too late. Letâs get packed up and go.â
âOkay,â I say, but heâs already walking away.
Paul gives us a letter as we settle into the van.
âRemember,â he says. âThe storyâs not over. We have time.â
Theo hasnât fully rebounded from our weird elevator conversation earlier. Still, I get a small grin as he leans on his armrest, ready to read the letter with me.
But Iâm not sure ready. The date of this letter was just days before the one Paul gave us when we started this trip two weeks ago. I sense the end approaching, and I donât want it to, as surely as I donât want to drive home today.
Theoâs hand covers mine, his thumb tracing a line over my knuckles. A touch of reassurance.
With an exhale, I read.
I trace the crossed-out , rubbing at the ache in my chest. The anxiety in Gramâs letter transfers to my already unsettled stomach. She cut herself off before she could complete the thought, but she let Paul see her worry, her hope and despair in those crossed-out words.
âThe elopement was her idea?â I ask.
Behind me, Paul says, âIt was, but Iâd thought about it, too. When she brought me the letter, I was relieved. It seemed we had the perfect solution to an imperfect situation.â
A tangle of emotions wrap around me. I look over at Theo, his face reflecting what Iâm feeling: curiosity, concern, a hint of sadness. I know only some of it is related to Gram and Paulâs story.
If I hear the rest now, itâll be my last game of Tell Me a Secret with Gram. It makes me want to bend over in my seat and cry. But I also want to know. I need that closure before I get the closure from this trip.
And maybe I need the reassurance that after things end, life goes on. Sometimes even beautifully.
I turn back to Paul. His eyebrows raise, his age-worn hands folded in his lap.
âCan you tell me the rest?â
Paulâs expression softens. âOf course.â
Theo squeezes my hand and starts the car while Paul begins.
We wind through Palm Springs as he tells us he suspects Robertâs friend tipped Gramâs parents off about their relationship.
âThereâs little other explanation for why her parents rushed down to LA and pulled her from school,â Paul says, settling into his seat as we merge onto the freeway. âI have to assume she sounded different after their call. Iâd overheard enough conversations with them to know it was a possibility. She thought she kept our secret well, but I worried theyâd hear it in her voiceâthe anxiety, the extended pauses before she answered questions. Secrets get harder the longer you keep them.â
In my periphery, Theo shifts in his seat. I look over at him, questioning, but he only shakes his head.
âRobertâs friend was local, and her brother was terribly overprotective of her. Robert never admitted it to Kat, but I believe he had his friend follow us after that call,â Paul says. âUnfortunately, I believe the day he chose was the day we got our marriage license.â
The van jerks as Theo repeats, incredulous, â
â
My jaw drops to the floor. âWhen you said youâd made plans, you made plans.â
Paul laughs wryly. âWe did. Even though it was all very fast, we were determined.
determined. In hindsight, we wanted to make it work so badly that we didnât see the holes in our plan.â He sighs. âKat had never stepped out of line, and she loved her family dearly, despite how heavy-handed they could be. I knew she hated keeping that secret, but I underestimated her fear of how it would alter their relationship. I was so distracted by all the logistics that I didnât see that she was struggling with the decision itself.â
I imagine her trying to figure out which way her life would go. Which way was right, and how much it was going to hurt either way. âSo what happened?â
âLike I said, we went to get our marriage license. It was just before finals. Kat was a nervous wreck, looking over her shoulder every moment, but when we got that license in hand, she seemed relieved.
âTwo days later, there was a knock at our fraternity house in the middle of the night. It was Katâs friend, Gail.â
âDamn,â Theo murmurs.
âShe told me that Katâs family and Robertâs friend had shown up at her dorm, saying they knew about the elopement. Her parents made her pack up her things,â Paul says. âThe timing was too coincidental, and Robertâs friend being there when they got her still makes me think he was the culprit.â
âScrew that guy,â I mutter. Paul and Theo chuckle in tandem.
âGail escorted Kat to the bathroom, and Kat told her where all of our letters and pictures were. She was able to write me a quick note telling me what happened. She told me not to worry, weâd figure it out, but of course I was worried sick.â
âHow could you not be?â I say, feeling sick myself. âWas that it? You never got to see each other again?â
âOh no. I was furious and determined to figure it out. My parents urged me to let her go, but that, of course, made me dig my heels in even further.â He looks at his grandson, a soft, sad smile on his face. âStubborn pride runs in the family.â
âGranddad,â Theo says, a warning in his voice. I look between the two men as they seem to have a silent conversation.
Finally, Paul looks back at me. âKatâs friend in Glenlake was able to act as an intermediary for us. We sent letters, had a couple of calls. I held on to our marriage license, just in case, but she got more hopeless, even as she insisted sheâd figure something out. Her parents were very good at persuading her, telling her sheâd find someone new, that theyâd never accept me. Sheâd had a wonderful relationship with them up to that point, so their opinion mattered.â
âSo did yours,â I say.
âYes,â he says. âBut so did I offered to talk to her parents, to assure them, but it was too late. Too much time had passed, too many lies and secrets in our relationship. I never would have gained their trust.â
âWasnât there a chance theyâd come around?â
âMaybe they wouldâve tried in their way, but what if Katâs relationship with her parents eventually deteriorated beyond repair? What if Kat lost them?â Paul shakes his head. âI couldnât have lived with that. I loved her, but I didnât want her to sacrifice, even though she was willing to. We wouldâve fallen apart under that pressure. Hell, we already had. It took me years to recognize that truth, but once I did, I could see it from the start.â
âShe was a strong woman.â Why am I arguing? I know how it ends. If Paul and Gram had ended up together, Theo and I wouldnât even exist.
âShe was,â he says, equally kind and firm, âbut she was also twenty at the time, when women were either dependent upon their family or their husband. I loved your grandmother and I always will, but that relationship wasnât to be. It taught me the lesson I needed then, and for my first marriage, too.â
Theoâs eyes catch Paulâs in the rearview. âWhat lesson?â
âWhen itâs right to fight for love, and when itâs right to let it go. Kat and I were built on an already crumbling foundation. Pushing for that relationship would have ended in disaster, and in the end, we both knew it.â
âSo, did you break up for good in that letter I found?â I ask.
âNo, I drove up to Glenlake,â Paul says. âIt was midsummer by that time. We met at a park near her house and talked about what we should do, though we knew by that time. We just had to say it out loud. It was hard and very emotional. For a while I wasnât okay, and I suspect she wasnât either. I sent her the letter you found in hopes that weâd both heal. And we did.â
My throat goes tight; even if she felt like she failed, she ultimately found her happiness. She doesnât need to be with me now to tell me that. I think of her and Grandpa Joe dancing in the kitchen. My dad and his brothers. Our raucous Christmases and Gramâs wide, happy smile.
Iâm going through all the stages of grief at once. Listening to Paul and Gramâs story hurts. But knowing how it played out soothes the sting of their heartache.
âIt took time,â I say finally.
âHealing always does,â Paul says. âRemember, nothing lasts forever. You have to hold on to the good things, knowing you may be on borrowed time with them. And with the bad, recognize that eventually it will pass.â
âAny regrets?â Theo asks, his tone searching.
Paul shakes his head, gazing at his grandson. âNone. Any failure I felt at the time turned into opportunity down the road. The pain led me to my first wife and our boys, to you, and ultimately to Vera.â
We all sink into the silence together, considering that.
I let out a breath. âThis is going to take some processing.â
âUndoubtedly,â Paul replies. âIt took me years. Give yourself time.â
Miles pass before we speak again. My mind is spinning with thoughts of Gram, of this trip, of the men in the car with me. Theoâs zoned out with his Radiohead, and Paulâs reading in the backseat, humming quietly, when I realize something.
I turn to Paul, raising an eyebrow. âYou said we could take our time with the story, but you finished with time to spare.â
âWell, I got the feeling you wanted an excuse to keep seeing me.â He winks, and itâs so much like Theoâs mischievous one that I canât help laughing. âBut truly, wanted an excuse for you two to keep seeing each other.â
âYou are such a pain in the ass,â Theo mutters.
He raises an eyebrow. âBut you worked that out, didnât you?â
I catch Theoâs eye, my face flushing. I guess we did.
The rest of the drive passes too quickly. I try to hold on to the last hours I have before I step back into real life, but it slips through my fingers like sand, and suddenly weâre pulling up to Paulâs house. Mine will be next. My parents texted to let me know theyâre out to dinner with friends and wonât be home when I arrive, but they canât wait to catch up. I hate that Iâm coming back to an empty house; Iâve become so used to not being alone.
I donât want to let these two weeks go. I have no idea what to expect now, even though there are things to look forward to: that Tahoe trip, the momentum Iâve gained with my photography, Theo. The changes Iâve dedicated myself to making. Iâm not the same Noelle I was when I left.
Theo unbuckles his seatbelt, raising a questioning eyebrow at me. âYou want to stay over at my place tonight?â
âYou have no idea how much I wish I could, but I should probably be there when my parents get home.â
âOf course,â he says, though he doesnât try to hide his disappointment.
I hang back while Theo and Paul embrace. Neither of them let go for a long time, and when Paul claps Theoâs back and whispers something in his ear, Theo squeezes his eyes shut.
âBest trip of my life,â Paul declares. Theo looks toward the house, wiping at his eyes. I step toward him, but Paul intercepts me, his expression soft. âThank you for this opportunity, sweetheart. I canât tell you what itâs meant to me.â
I swallow hard, pushing down the emotion thatâs moving up from my chest. âThank you for telling me your story. Iâm sorry it was painful, but I guess I canât be sorry for how it turned out.â
His smile is wide. âItâs exactly as intended, Noelle. I promise. Oh! There is one more letter Iâd like to show you. Letâs make a date.â
I catch Theoâs eye as Paul pulls me into a tight hug. The affection on his face flattens me. âYeah, a date sounds perfect.â
Theo pulls my suitcase from the van with a grunt. âYou free this weekend?â
I blink out of my blank stare at my parentsâ house. âAll yours, Spencer.â
Theo sets the bag aside and pulls me into his arms. I sink against him with a sigh.
âIâm going to miss you in my bed,â he says. âKicking me in the middle of the night, making your annoying snuffling sounds.â
I give him a derisive look. âFirst of all, youâve been in bed. Second of all, you talk in your sleep, so you donât have room to talk.â
âI do not talk in my sleep,â he insists, cheeks turning pink.
âYou sure do.â Sometimes he sighs out a nonsense phrase; other times itâs a whole conversation from another dimension. Iâll never admit it, but I have a recording on my phone.
Theoâs eyes narrow. âWhat do I say?â
âOh, didnât I tell you? I know all of your secrets now.â He laughs, a little uncomfortably, so I take pity on him. âIâm joking. Itâs gibberish.â
âRight.â His shoulders drop and he tightens his hold on me. Against my hair, he murmurs, âIâll be around all day tomorrow, so just come over whenever, okay?â
âYou gonna let me take Betty for a joy ride?â As I say it, Iâm imagining that: the wind in my hair and Theoâs, my hands all over the steering wheel. His hand high up on my thigh, watching me because the sight of me driving his Bronco makes himâ
âAbsolutely fucking not.â Theo extinguishes the fantasy before I can finish it, pulling back. âBut Iâll drive you. Weâll go somewhere private, and you can meet me in the backseat.â
âZero chance of that if I donât get my hands on her stick shift.â
That dimple pop is so unfair, as is the smug smile it brackets. âYou can get your hands on stick shift.â
âSomehow not as compelling.â
His grin turns wicked, but it drifts away as he cups my jaw, running his thumb over my bottom lip.
âI had a good time with you, Shepard,â he says.
What a wild understatement. This has been the best two weeks of my life. âIt was okay.â
He laughs, aware that Iâm full of shit. âIâll expect to see a TikTok detailing all your favorite things about me before bedtime tonight.â
âNo problem, itâll be like five seconds lonâ
â He grabs me around the waist with a growl, lifting me, and I let out a shriek that sends birds flying from their tree perches. âFine! Itâll be a ten-parter, okay?â
âTwo parts dedicated just to my massiveââ
âEgo, yes.â I wind my arms around his neck, digging my fingers into his hair.
âGonna be a menace to the end, huh?â Theo says softly, eyes warm and happy.
I lift an eyebrow, my heart suddenly pounding. âWhat end?â
Something flashes in his eyesâI swear it looks like fearâbut then itâs gone, quick as a camera flash. He adjusts my position so our noses graze, then brushes his mouth over mine, keeping it soft and ending it just like that. A promise of something more.
âBye, Noelle,â he whispers.
âSee you, Theo,â I whisper back.
I watch him drive away, standing next to my suitcase. Thereâs nothing left to do but to go inside. Step back into my old life.
I canât wait to make it brand-new.