Just Let Me Love You (Judge Me Not #3)(39)

Kay



Home—Harmony Creek. It’s not home, though, without Chase.

He told me at the airport in Vegas that I am his home. Well, he is my home, too. That fact is never clearer than when everywhere I turn, and everywhere I go, I am faced with reminders of the man I love, the man I now call my husband.

At the farmhouse, Chase is there. He invades my every thought.

When I return home from work and stand on the porch, I hesitate before opening the door. I picture Chase behind the screen door, as he was one late June night when I needed him, when he was there for me. His blue eyes were filled with so much sadness for me that night…and so much anger for the man who assaulted me.

Inside the house, Chase’s presence is there, too.

I see him in the bathroom, standing in front of me as I sat perched on the counter. He’s holding ice to my cheek, and he is kissing me. Again, it’s the same fateful night I ended up at his door. As he fitted his body to mine, I wanted him–oh, how I had yearned.

But Chase made me wait.

And the waiting was so worth it.

Downstairs, there’s little reprieve from my onslaught of memories. Chase is in the kitchen, he’s in the living room. He’s in the dining room, sketching at the table.

But I miss his presence most in the room where we share a bed.

I smell Chase in the sheets; I feel his warmth. And when I roll to my back and peer up at the wall behind the bed, I am met with the Eiffel Tower oil pastel Chase drew for me. The sketch shines with my man’s heart and soul.

Late one night, waking from a fitful sleep, I feel empty and alone. I reach for Chase.

But he, of course, is not there.

I seek solace at Holy Trinity, both the church and the school, and I find some relief. On the first day of school, I am kept busy, so there’s no time to dwell on Chase. A fresh set of bright-eyed, eager first-graders require my attention and keep thoughts of my missing love at bay.

But when I’m not busy with the kids, I realize, Chase, like how it is at home, is all around the school. His work is everywhere—in the bright walls he painted this summer, in the newly replaced lighting, even in my own classroom I can’t get away from the onslaught of memories.

I stare at the bright red ceramic apple on my desk, remembering how Chase picked it up the day I took him on a tour of the school. He couldn’t quit fiddling with things—like the apple—that day. I found him to be very “hands-on,” and, consequently, I couldn’t wait for his hands to end up on me.

And they did. Oh, how they did.

Chase’s hands have left invisible marks; his skin is seared to mine. I’m branded by him, by his love, by his intensity.

At the end of the day, as I’m leaving the school, I am again reminded of Chase.

On the wall across from the front doors, the mural he and Will painted in July glows in full glory, bathed in the slant of the late-day sun.

Out in the parking lot, I’m still thinking of Chase. So much so that when someone calls my name, it takes me a minute to respond.

I’m almost at my car, and when I stop and turn around, I discover it is Missy Metzger who is trying to get my attention.

Taking a step in her direction as she hurries over to me, I wave. “Hey, Missy.”

She waves back. “Kay, wait up a sec. I want to talk to you.”

“Okay, sure.”

Before she reaches me, I note that Missy looks good. She appears to be fully recovered from the car accident and the subsequent miscarriage she suffered. When I left Harmony Creek a few weeks ago, Missy was in a bad depression. She didn’t want to see me or anyone, really. But today, dressed in a dark floral dress with her ashy-blonde hair flowing down her back in bouncy curls, she looks great.

I smile when she reaches me. “Hey, girl, how’ve you been?” I touch her arm.

“I’ve been good.” She places her hand on her chest to catch her breath. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so out of shape. Anyway, I didn’t want to miss you. It feels like forever since we talked.”

“It has been a while.” I agree.

“Too long,” she says.

There’s a moment where our eyes meet. We both seem to be pondering whether to bring up the accident, but the point becomes moot when Missy instead says, “So…how was Las Vegas?”

“It was good.” I lean against the side of my car, preparing to spend some time catching up. Truthfully, I’m happy to see Missy, and I’m relieved she’s all right.

Glancing around, brow creasing, Missy asks, “Hey, where is Chase? Is he not working today?”

“Uh, actually…” I clear my throat. “He’s not here. He decided to stay an extra week out west.”

Missy shoots me a look of concern. “Is everything okay, Kay?”

“Yes, yes, everything is fine.” I wave my hand in the air dismissively. “Will just wanted a little extra time with his brother, that’s all. And, well, I knew I’d be busy here with the first week of school.”

Missy nods and replies, “Oh, that’s good,” but I can tell that her hearing Will’s name is a reminder of his friend, Jared.

Jared was the one who ran into Missy’s car, with his parent-funded Jaguar. Sadly, Missy’s cheap little car was no match. Jared walked away unharmed, but Missy…well, she didn’t fare so well.