Oakley trots toward me holding her leash. She’s ready for her walk.
She wasn’t overly enthusiastic with Abby, and Abby shied away from her. I wonder if they’ll be able to get along and if Chester would accept another person in his life. Instead of overthinking the future, I head outside. As I spot the moon, I take a picture and send it to Abby with the caption: I hope we’re sharing the same view.
Abby: It’s cloudy here tonight. Thank you for sending me this pic.
Wes: Goodnight, Abby girl.
Abby: Goodnight.
Seventeen
Abby
Softly splashing water droplets hit the car windows as I drive north on University Boulevard. The skies are overcast with a blanket of grey. The rain usually calms me. I love to dance in the rain and let the raindrops touch my skin. But I can’t stand it when it’s raining and I’m on the road. The other drivers tend to behave like Armageddon has just begun, and it’s every man for themselves. Thankfully, I’m only a few blocks away from the gallery.
Once I stop at the light on First Avenue and University, I call my realtor. Her voicemail picks up right away.
“Erika, I’m sorry, but I didn’t love any of the properties that your assistant showed me. Keep sending me what you find.”
Chasing your dreams can be harder than finding a unicorn downtown. Fine, not quite as impossible. The special place I’m searching for doesn’t exists according to those real estate sites I visit nightly. My realtor hasn’t found them either. As the days pass, I feel it getting farther and farther out of reach.
It’s okay. You got this, girl.
In a couple of years, I should have my shelter up and running along with the rest of my plan. It feels like it was only yesterday when I was in Tahoe, sitting by the fire and talking with Wes about starting a place where young people could feel safe. After living in Esperanza’s Home, where I was allowed to hide, heal, and find myself, I wanted to open something similar. Not only a trauma center, but also a place where young women who didn’t feel safe at home could stay until they found themselves and their place in the world.
Luna, the woman who rescued me from Shaun, happens to be one of the founders of Esperanza’s Home. She’s been guiding me through the process. Her goal is to eventually open one in every state, but that’s a long shot. If I can open one or two, I’d be helping her cause. I promised to support her once I got mine running. Which, at this pace, I’m not sure if it’ll happen at all.
For the first stage of the project, I’ll use the money Will gave me for my twenty-first birthday. That’s if I find a lot big enough and far enough from the city. Afterward, I’m going to need multiple benefactors to help me support it. Sterling offered his help which I’ll graciously take. At the moment, I’m selling some of the paintings and sculptures he’s given me because he’s not in love with them.
Once I arrive at the gallery, I park the car and enter through Sterling’s studio. He’s working on a piece of marble. He says it’s going to be the next David or The Thinker. He’s making a self-portrait. I wish Wes knew about this. We’d be cracking jokes about it.
Who cares about the joke? I’d be staring at his chiseled face and enigmatic eyes. We’d be catching up and …
“Hey,” I greet Sterling and try to stop thinking about his brother.
“Did you find your dream lot?”
“Nope,” I stare at his desk where there’s an unopened box.
I roll my eyes. What did he order?
“Everything is either too small or too close to the penitentiary,” I complain about the last one I saw close to Morrison.
The spot was almost ideal, but there’s no concrete wall between the lot and the building next door. There were lines of wire fences and towers with guards. Not the view I’d want to offer the women who are running away from violence and criminals.
“You can check other areas, like Larkspur,” he suggests.
“It’s too south from Denver but a good option.”
“Colorado Springs?”
“Way too south. I’d have to move.”
“By the way, you got that.” He finally lifts his gaze and turns toward his desk.
My heart beats as I stare at the box as if it’s toxic. “What is it?”
“Open it.” He glares at me. “It’s not a snake.”
“I refuse to open it.” I cross my arms.
“Why?”
“It’s from your brother.” I don’t need to look at the label to know who sent me that box.
“You’re bluffing. There’s no way you can tell it’s from him just by standing close to it.”
“Wes warned me yesterday morning,” I say, as if that explains how I know.
Sterling lays the chisel and marble on his working table and crosses his arms giving me his full attention. “What did he threaten you with exactly?”
“Hey, I said warned not threatened. But if you must know, he is going to show me that we belong together.” I march to the desk and grab the small knife to open the parcel. “I already received a bouquet of roses and chocolate covered strawberries.”
“He’s attacking you with your favorite food?” He huffs. “That’s low. And I should point out that you two do belong together.”
“That’s nonsense,” I retort. “He should be with someone beautiful, smart, and easy going.”
“You just described yourself,” he fights back. “What is it that he sent? If he sent candy, I want some of that.”
It’s a dreamcatcher with a note and a letter.
To protect you while you’re sleeping.
He used to be the one protecting me most nights. It wasn’t long ago that we shared everything and yet, it feels like we’ve been apart for centuries. I open the letter. My hands shake as I get a waft of his scent when I pull out the paper from the envelope.
Abby,
These past years I discovered many things about myself. The way I think and act are the same, yet different.
I believe that only I can chase my dreams and make them happen. No one can break me; I broke myself. Thankfully, I wasn’t alone to carry the pieces. Sterling helped me, and it was so much easier to let him be there for me than try to do this on my own.
Finding myself, following my dreams and happiness is a journey that will last a lifetime, and I hope one day you’ll join me and be the one carrying some of those pieces while I help you with carrying your own.
Seeing you again reminded me how slowly I started falling, madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with you. I never stopped loving you. Maybe I’m not in love, but I still feel strongly about you. Thinking about you leaves me breathless. You’re always on my mind before I go to sleep and just as I wake up.
I once told you that you own me, and none of that has changed. You hold my heart, my soul.
All of me.
I’ve no idea what our future will look like, but my dream is to have you by my side.
Please, give me another chance to become your friend and fall in love with you all over again. I ask you for ten dates to show you that I’m right. We belong together. You own me. Let me show you who I really am.
Yours forever,
Wes
I touch the pendant he gave me three years ago when we were together. “I belong to you,” he said once. Actually, he repeated it several times.
“Is it that easy to just jump into what we had?” It doesn’t seem right to just give in to his words and accept that we’re back together.
“No, I think you guys need to adjust to each other. He travels a lot. And you need to find your place.” Sterling voices just what I’m thinking.
Nothing has been easy, but I’ve loved every challenge I’ve faced. This could be one of those rewarding challenges. I can’t deny that I’m afraid to find out we have nothing in common and Wes talks out of nostalgia. Not love.
Abby: Thank you for the dreamcatcher.
Wes: What are you doing this weekend?
Abby: I said thank you, not let’s get together.
Wes: We’re taking a leap, aren’t we?
Abby: Maybe …
Wes: Come to Tahoe this weekend.
Abby: I’m going to be busy. Sorry. Why don’t you come by?
Wes: Sunday. Save me the day.
Abby: For what?
Wes: A date.
Abby: Will it count as one of ten?
Wes: You accept my ten date challenge?
Abby: Ten dates for what?
Wes: To make you fall for me. To allow me to fall madly in love with you.
Abby: This Sunday would be the first if I accept?
Wes: Yes. Each of them will be unique, like you.
I stare at the phone. My entire body vibrates with excitement. Ten dates with Wes Ahern.
Abby: Okay.
Wes: I’ll call you tonight. I can’t wait to hear your voice.
Abby: Talk to you soon, Ahern.
Wes: