not to accept. I know that Logan is needed in Eden City. There may even come a time when I need something that only he can send. But, at this moment, the only thing I need from Logan is himself.
I’ve been in love with him half my life. I know this now. For once I’m going to be selfish. I’m going to grasp my chance at a new life.
“Yes,” I say. With that one word I wish, I shiver, I pray that I’ve sealed my Fate. And, desperately, I hope that I haven’t sealed anyone else’s.
29
The air smells of rosemary and grilled fish. Conversation and bits of food are flung around, as if the people of Harmony can’t decide whether to talk or eat. I’m wedged on a bench between Logan and Brayden, trying to keep the hysterical laughter inside.
I had some sparkling wine once. A neighbor sent a bottle to our house after Jessa was born. Mom popped the cork, and white bubbles spilled out the neck.
“Here, quick.” Mom pushed the bottle at me. “We can’t waste a single drop.”
I licked the side of the bottle and the bubbles exploded on my tongue. Even after I swallowed, I could still feel the fizz climbing my throat.
Well, that’s how I feel now. Every time Logan speaks to me, brushes my shoulder, or even looks at me, my insides fizz a little more and bubble a little higher. Long forgotten are my guilt and caution. Now I’m brimming with heady elation. By the time I finish my dinner, I can’t sit still any longer. I jump to my feet and excuse myself, leaving Logan talking to Brayden about his swim meets.
I wander over to the long table in front of the log cabin, where Angela is stuffing a fish with cubed vegetables.
“Dinner was delicious, Angela.” Sliding in next to her, I pick up a fish and slice through its stomach with a knife. “I think I may have caught a few of these suckers myself.”
“Did you? Well, hurry up and finish your hunting rotation. I miss having you in meal prep.” She lays her fish on a tray and holds her hand out for mine. “You are going to be around at the end of your rotation?”
I hand her the fish. Its eyes stare at me, dead and lifelike at the same time. I rub the underside of my bracelet, twisting it around my wrist. I made Logan a matching one, too. These bracelets symbolize so much more than our relationship. They offer me another chance at life.
I flash back on a scene from this afternoon—cleaning the haul with the other fisherman on the shore. The air is ripe with fish guts. The bloated bellies of the fish flash in the waning light. And Logan, a few scales clinging to his cheek, wields a thin metal blade like a scalpel.
I could be happy here. No, scratch that. I am happy here.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say to Angela.
The smile beams out of her. “Welcome home, Callie.”
We work in silence for a few minutes, and her smile leaks away. Her misery presses down on me. I can see the grief in the tightness of her lips, in the fish she’s handling a little too roughly.
“Angela?” I ask. “How are you holding up?”
Her hands pause. “Still sad about my mum’s passing. And Mikey and I have been fighting.”
“Over what?”
“The usual. Relationship stuff.” She turns the fish over. “But don’t worry. We’ll work it out. We always do.”
We prep the rest of the fish, and when Angela takes them over to the fire pit to grill, I walk back to Logan.
He’s sitting with his brother now, his head bent as he listens to Mikey. I’d recognize his swimmer’s physique anywhere. The broad shoulders that taper to a V, the muscular thighs and long legs. As if sensing my approach, he looks up and reaches out his hand to me. Our fingers intertwine and I forget how to breathe. When he looks at me, I don’t need a memory to tell me where I belong. I could make a home here. With Logan by my side, I could carve a place for myself in Harmony.
At that moment, a scream rips through the air. Startled, Logan and I look at each other, and then all three of us jump to our feet and run to the fire pit, where Angela is cradling a little boy in her arms. He has long, scrawny limbs, smooth nutmeg skin…and