“Oh, wow, that’s a lot to think about.” How could she say no? But also how could she say yes? Bridget’s life was already too full. There wasn’t any space left.
“Promise me you’ll consider my offer,” David said before resuming their stroll.
She nodded her agreement, all the while knowing that it just couldn’t work, not with everything else she’d already committed to. She hoped that David wouldn’t be too disappointed when she was forced to turn down his kind offer.
Chapter 47
Bridget pulled her car into the lot nearest to the student union. Today was the first day of the new semester and her first day back since she’d taken an extended leave to watch over her sick mother. Exiting her car now felt like stepping out of a time machine and into a simpler past—one where her path had been straight, narrow, and clearly lit. She remembered those days when her mom had been in remission and they all thought she would live a full, long life.
But it was also a time when she hadn’t yet met her best friends or Wesley. Before she’d started volunteering at the shelter. Before she’d become the Bridget she was today.
She liked this new Bridget, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t like the one she’d been before, too. Some aspects of life weren’t as easy to pack into boxes and tuck away.
Out of sight but never quite out of mind.
No matter how busy she tried to stay, eventually life’s hurts would find her and force her to confront them. There was no running from them, either. The only way out was through.
She knew that now, and she wanted to make sure Wesley knew it, too. That’s why she had invited him here today. It wasn’t just the first day of a new school year. It would be the official start of several things more, and she couldn’t wait to share them with her friends.
But first . . .
Wesley spotted her before she saw him. “Bridget, over here!” he called, raising an arm to motion her over.
She grabbed the old tattered backpack from her trunk and jogged over to join him. “Hey. Thanks for meeting me here.” As much as she wanted to appear casual, she could barely contain the excitement that bubbled inside.
So much had happened over the long Labor Day weekend—most of it inside her head—and now today was the day she’d officially bring the realizations she’d made to light.
Today was the first day of yet another new Bridget.
A better Bridget.
A Bridget who knew exactly where she was going, because she was already halfway there.
“What’s up?” Wesley asked, raking a hand through his hair as he glanced around the campus, taking in the rush of students and faculty as they passed.
“It’s the first day of the new term,” she informed him plainly.
“Are you excited to be returning to school after all this time?” he asked as they fell into step beside each other and walked past the student union.
“I’m not,” she told him, plopping down on the grass beneath a large tree and patting the ground for him to join her. “I mean I am excited, but I’m not returning.”
Wesley’s white-blond brows pinched in confusion, just as she’d suspected they would. “I don’t get it. I thought you still had a year and a half left of undergrad and then four more years for your DVM. Did you decide to take more time off?”
She handed him the backpack once he’d settled down beside her on the ground. “I’m going to finish my bachelor of science by taking online and night classes. My new employer actually volunteered to pay for that.”
He let out a low, impressed whistle. “Bridget, that’s great! Which vet are you working at now?”
“I’m not,” she said again. This was it. She could finally tell him the solution she’d spent the last several days puzzling out. “Actually, I’ve decided not to pursue veterinary school after all.”
“I don’t understand.” He frowned, but when he found that she was smiling, he met her halfway with something of an optimistic grimace.
“Unzip that backpack and look inside.” Excitement buzzed inside her as she waited for Wesley to connect all the pieces. Just as she had while lying awake in bed and contemplating the course of her life a couple nights ago.
He pulled out a stack of folders and notebooks, a box of pens, and last the cell phone she’d already activated and had charged to 100 percent on her drive over. Wesley laughed. “What is all this?”
She shook her head, refusing to tell him. She wanted him to see for himself. Needed him to.
“Check out the contacts on the phone,” she nudged.
Wesley thumbed through the phone’s various menus until he found what he was looking for. “There’s only one.” He clicked again. “Bridget Moore, and there’s a number I don’t recognize. Hey, it also says you’re the Community Coordinator for the shelter.”
He dropped the phone to his lap and gaped at her. “Seriously? That’s wonderful! Congratulations!”
“They gave me a new phone to go with the job, and I figured you might be able to make use of my old one. We can get it officially transferred to your name after we’re done here.”
He looked at her in quiet awe.
“Well, don’t just sit there staring at me. Bring it in for a hug,” she cried, then reveled in the feeling of his strong arms around her.
“So that’s why you’re not going back to school?” he asked a few moments later.
“Pretty much.”
He glanced toward the student union, idly watching all the people come and go. “Then why are we here?”
“Because you’re going back, Wesley,” she revealed. No, she hadn’t decided for him. The choice would be Wesley’s and Wesley’s alone, but she needed him to know that new paths were open to him, too. That it wasn’t too late to find the life he wanted and to make it his.
“What? How is that even possible?” He gasped in shock more than elation. That was okay. Bridget could be happy enough for both of them—at least to start.
“Well, it’s not,” she said gently. “At least not for this semester, but the school has all your old transcripts on file, and there are lots of scholarships out there to help ex-cons pay for school. You don’t have to study engineering this time, either. You could get your culinary degree. Or really study anything. Absolutely anything you want. It’s never too late to change your life. Just look at me!”
“Yes, just look at you,” Wesley said, looping an arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. “I don’t think I can stop.”
Chapter 48
Bridget stood at Wesley’s side while he talked with an admissions counselor, and she stayed there while he was loaded up with various brochures, catalogs, and pamphlets. He was still afraid of rewinding his life and going back to the place he’d been when everything had gone so terribly wrong; his nervous stutter made that obvious.
But he was willing to give it a chance, and that meant everything.
After all, Bridget was scared, too.
A life lived without fear, regrets, challenges wasn’t really a life at all. She knew that now and had no doubt Wesley soon would as well.
“You sure have a lot to think about,” she told him later as they headed back to the parking lot together.
Wesley smiled as he looked back over his shoulder toward the main campus. “Yeah, but I think I may already have the first steps figured out.”
“Oh?” She looped her arm through his, eager to hear what he had decided.
He’d remained quiet while the admissions counselor spoke at length. Had he been secretly working out a plan that whole time?
“Yeah, I’ll tell you over dinner,” he answered now with a sly grin. “First there’s something we need to do.”
She stared at him with an open smirk. Such a tease.
He chuckled at her. “Hey, you think you’re the only one who can make big decisions about my life?”
“I saw something I knew could help you, so I pushed you in that direction. The decision is still yours.”
“Oh, really? Well, remember that in about an hour, okay? Because I’m about to do the same thing for you.”
Sure enough, when they returned to Bridget’s apartment, Wesley said a quick hello to Teddy, Rosco, and Baby, then put both hands on his hips as he surveyed the living room. “Where is it?” he asked her.
“Where’s what?”
“Your mother’s box.”
Immediately her stomach churned. Did they really need to do this today? She’d already worked through so much. And she would get to the box—she would—but first she needed to rest and celebrate. First she wanted to share her feelings with Wesley before revisiting the most painful part of her past.
“C’mon, out with it already,” Wesley insisted. “You’ve told me more than once how this thing keeps you anchored to your grief. Well, my dear Bridget, it’s time to finally set sail.”
“Your dear Bridget?” she teased, his silly mood lightening the heaviness of the moment. She needed to do this, and it would help to have a good friend by her side.
“Under the bathroom sink,” she told him with a defeated sigh.
She needed to face the contents of the box. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d survive.
Wesley went to retrieve it while Bridget picked up Teddy and snuggled him close. Her mother had loved and petted this very same dog, and in that small way they were still connected. Her mother had seen the world as she’d once seen it, but things looked different now.
Perhaps a bit brighter.
Wesley reverently placed the cardboard box on her kitchen table, then took Teddy into his arms. “Remember, this is your decision.”
She nodded. They hadn’t spoken much about the box, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t picked up on the importance of the few words they had shared.
“Are you ready?” he asked, studying her carefully.
Bridget nodded. Perhaps a tear or two fell—she couldn’t really say.
Everything she had went into pulling apart those nestled cardboard flaps and willing herself to lift the items out and consider them one by one.
The first thing she found was her baby blanket, which felt just as soft as the day she’d tucked it away in this cardboard prison. She found the scrapbook her friends had put together with her at the funeral after-party. Nichole had called it a hot mess because the photos had been cut and pasted at random with no rhyme or reason to their placement, but Bridget found the layout refreshingly spontaneous.
Just like her mother.
Just like life.
“She was gorgeous,” Wesley said, resting his chin on Bridget’s shoulder as she flipped through the pages. “And you look so much like her.”
Bridget turned to him, the scrapbook still clutched to her chest as she cried softly into Wesley’s shirt. “She was such a big part of my world.”
“She can still be. Every time you do something wonderful, that’s her living on through you.”
This time Bridget knew for a fact she was crying. She couldn’t help it, not when Wesley knew just what to say to comfort her, to help her get through what she’d put off for so long. Did that mean he had planned this moment the same way she’d planned the one at the college?
“What about when I do something stupid?” she asked with a sniff.
“Then, too.” Wesley kissed the top of her head and chuckled. “Especially then, I bet.”
“What about when I do this?” She placed a hand on each side of his chest and raised her face so she could see his better.
Wesley’s eyes flashed a bright, alluring blue. He parted his lips and let out one shaky breath. “Do what?” he asked with a teasing smile.
Bridget closed her eyes and pushed onto her tiptoes.
Waiting. Needing.
Finally, finally Wesley closed the rest of the distance between them, touching his lips to hers. It didn’t feel like a first kiss—not to Bridget.
It felt like a forever kiss. The kind she and Wesley would share a million times in the years that followed, the one they’d share at the wedding altar one day, the one they’d have after welcoming their first child into the world, the one they’d give each other every day for the rest of their lives.
Yes, they’d both been beaten down by life, but they’d also both risen again, stood on unsure legs, and dared to journey forward.
And now, here they were doing it again.
Together.
Chapter 49
Bridget and Wesley finished unpacking her mother’s box, taking frequent breaks to share a memory or exchange a quick kiss. Interspersing her future happiness with her past pain felt strangely perfect, as if it was always supposed to end up this way.
Only one item remained in the box now. It was the smallest but also the scariest.
Bridget pulled out the simple lined notepad; a list had been scrawled onto three of its pages. And the entire first page of that list had been completed with proud inked check marks to claim the triumphs of counting the stars, watching a sunrise on the beach, and more.
She turned the page and continued to read until the check marks disappeared. The next item—the one that read run a charity race—had been left in a permanent state of waiting.
But no.
They’d done that already, she and Wesley had. They’d run the charity race she’d organized for the shelter; it was the same day he’d confessed the truth to her, the same day she started on the road to forgiveness.
“Can you grab me a pen from the drawer under the microwave?” she asked. Her mother had meant for them to do it together, but instead Bridget had done it for her. Just as Wesley had pointed out earlier, the mother’s spirit and ambitions continued to live through her daughter.
When Wesley returned with a pen, she uncapped it and added its blue to the column of black checks.
“What’s next?” he asked, cuddling her from behind.
“Swim with the dolphins,” she read with a chuckle. “I don’t know if she ever expected to do that one.”
Wesley took the notebook from her hands. “Maybe she didn’t expect to do it herself. Maybe she left it there for you.”
A part of her wanted to believe, but she had to be careful about getting her hopes up. Her mother was gone and they had their memories, but it was too much to expect something new. Because that could very well break her heart.
Bridget shrugged. “Maybe. It seems like a very Mom thing to do.”
“What else is on the list? Have you looked?”
“Actually, I haven’t. Mom was very insistent that we do the list together and in order. She kept it in her nightstand and never showed me what else she’d written down.”
“Show me.”
She swallowed hard as the notebook passed from her hands to his.
Immediately Wesley turned the page and began to read from farther down the list.
“Eat at a Michelin-starred restaurant. Be an extra in a movie. Start a club. Visit each of the fifty states.” He glanced up at her. “Bridget, this wasn’t a list for her. It was meant for you.”
She grabbed the notepad back, her eyes zooming right to the very bottom of that bulleted list. “Fall in love. Get married. Live a beautiful life,” she read aloud, a fresh sheen of tears making it difficult to read anything else.
Her mother hadn’t abandoned Bridget. She’d left clear instructions—simple instructions on how to live life without her. And Bridget had foolishly been too afraid to look.
That was, until Wesley directed her gaze right where it needed to be.
She picked the blue ink pen back off the table and placed a check next to Fall in love. Enough waiting for the perfect moment. Life happened whether or not you were ready for it, and she needed Wesley to know how much this afternoon had meant to her, how much he meant to her.
“Okay, what’s next?” she asked, almost afraid to meet his eyes.
He drew close and placed strong hands on either side of her waist. “I know she left this list for you, but I’d like to be right there with you if you’ll
have me. I love you, too, Bridget. So much it scares me. You gave me back to myself. Nobody else could do that but you, Bridget.”
She laughed through her tears as Wesley used the pad of his thumb to wipe them away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Didn’t you know?”
She hit him playfully.
“Well, there’s your answer,” he said. “Kissing me one second, hitting me the next. I just never know with you.”
She hit him again, but he grabbed her tight and pulled her in for a kiss.
“I much prefer the kissing, by the way.”
Bridget stared into his soothing ocean eyes. She’d once thought of them as ice. This same man who held her now had once avoided her, insulted her, pushed her away at every opportunity.
How funny life could be.
Good thing Bridget had always had a pretty good sense of humor.
“Let’s do it,” she said. “Let’s finish the list.”
“A lot of the items on there are quite pricey. We’ll have to save up.”
“Luckily, we’ve got time.”
Chapter 50
Bridget spent the next few weeks easing into her new job—her new career—as community outreach coordinator for the local animal shelter. It didn’t take long for her to confirm that she’d made the right decision. Life experience did that; it taught you how to figure out what you needed and to make sure you got it.
Like Wesley.
She’d been so sure she hadn’t wanted love, but really her entire world now revolved around it. Same as it always had.
Love for her mother, her father and brothers, her friends, the animals at the shelter, and—yes—even for herself.
Funny how a chance encounter with a rude stranger had set her on the exact path she needed to tread.
Wesley, too, had been keeping busy that month. He convinced his manager at the restaurant to grant him an extra shift each week, and even though he didn’t have much to spend, he saved the added pay in a special cookie jar guarded by an adorable stuffed Pomeranian dressed as a lion. He and Bridget had taken to calling it the bucket, because someday it would finance the next item on her mother’s list . . . and the next.
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