Home to You

Her life is there.

Mine is here.

Realization crosses her face.

“Leonard called, Have. He wants you to come home.”

Chapter 8

Haven 8

Taking a seat, I reach for my white wine and drain the glass before setting it on the table in front of me. “I’ve been ignoring his calls,” I confess. I’m sure Sebastian thinks it’s because I’m not ready to talk to him about what he did. That’s not the reason. The reason is that I have nothing to say to him. Leonard is my past, and I intend for him to stay there.

Sebastian nods. “Care to tell me why?”

I shrug. “I don’t have anything to say to him.”

“Well, he certainly has things to say to you.”

“I don’t really care what he has to say, Sebastian.” I watch him carefully, and I can see the indecision in his eyes. I left him once before, and although it’s in our past, those wounds are still there. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about life and the future.”

“Leonard seems to think that you’re passing up the opportunity of a lifetime.” He watches me closely, gauging my reaction.

“That’s his take on things.”

“And what is your take, Haven? Is this job, this, Anything Goes, will it really shape your career?”

“My dance career in New York, yes, but not my career here in Hope.” His eyebrows raise at my confession.

“All you’ve ever wanted was to be a dancer.” His voice cracks, as his emotions shine through the armor he tries to wear. “I don’t want you to give that up.”

“You’re right. I did want to be a dancer. I was young and thought that was the life, that living in New York and being on Broadway would be living the dream. I will be the first to admit I was wrong. So very wrong, Sebastian.”

“Here you go.” The server delivers our plates in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?” he asks as he places a bottle of steak sauce and extra napkins on the table.

“Can I have a glass of water, please?” I ask. I would love another glass of wine, but I need a clear head for this conversation. I need him to know that it’s me making the decisions and not the alcohol.

“Me too,” Sebastian says.

“Of course, I’ll be right back with that.”

“Eat, baby,” Sebastian says quietly. “It’s been years since you’ve had a steak. We can talk after.”

That simple statement is why I will never leave this man again. He listens, and he takes what I want into account. I’ve only ever had that with Sebastian. Now that I’ve found it again, I don’t want to let it go. Let him go. Not needing to be told twice, I dig into my steak. We’re quiet while we eat, and I’m sure his mind is racing with how this is going to play out. What he doesn’t realize is that our life was mapped out for us years ago; it’s just finally being put into motion.

“Did you save any room for dessert?” our server asks. If he can feel the tension between us, it doesn’t show.

“No, thank you,” I say, dropping my napkin onto my plate.

“Just the check, please.”

“Sure thing.” He pulls the check from his apron, and Sebastian hands him his credit card.

Five minutes later, we’re in his truck headed to his place. I know I should probably wait until we get there, but I can’t seem to hold the words in any longer. “Sebastian—” I start, but he shakes his head.

“We’re almost home. Can we just… do this there?” He reaches over the console and links his fingers with mine. That’s how we ride the rest of the way to his place. Silence surrounds us as I process what I need to say. His thumb caresses mine, and that simple touch, the connection to him and the way it makes me feel alive, is all that I need to know that I’m making the right decision. Even if things don’t work out for us, this is my home. This is where I’m meant to be.

“You want something to drink?” he asks as we settle onto his couch.

“No. I want to talk.” There’s no more time for stalling.

He nods, and his shoulders slump just a little. “I’m listening.”

“You were right when you said I always wanted to be a dancer. Being a dancer was who I was, or at least who I thought I was at the time. Turns out time changes you, and what you once thought you wanted more than anything isn’t so important anymore.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My heart shattered the day I left for Juilliard. I convinced myself I would regret it if I didn’t go, if I didn’t follow my dreams.”

“I know.” He nods. “I agreed with you.”

“So, I went. With each day, I missed you with every ounce of my soul. That pain never really went away, but as the days passed by, I got better at hiding it.” I take a breath and prepare to say the words that I’ve kept deep inside for longer than I care to admit. “It’s been a while since I’ve been happy. In fact, if I’m being honest with myself, the last time I was truly happy and carefree was when I was with you. It took me coming home to you. It took coming back to the small town of Hope to see that being a dancer is no longer my dream.”