Chapter 25

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Love bravely,

Love without
borders or fear.
Follow your heart
No matter the cost.
No matter
the cost.

Tyler Knott Gregson


"Hi," I whisper.

"Hey, Rach," he says, reaching for my hand and pulling me into the hallway.

His eyes run over me, taking in my every curve and lump and hollow like I'm a well-worn path he's exploring for the first time. I blush under his gaze, a thousand insecurities longing to steal the joy from this moment.

He silences them with one statement. "Rach, you look beautiful."

"You're not so bad yourself," I say, my eyes lingering on the way the suit jacket offsets his square shoulders and the blue tie brings out his eyes.

"Honestly, I haven't worn this suit since a wedding in June," Josh says, laughing and scratching his head.

"Well, next time we'll have to go some place less fancy."

"Next time?" Josh says with a wicked grin. "I guess this is already going pretty well."
I can't help but grin at him. We head down the stairs, and Josh keeps my hand ensconced in his. It's funny that even though I'm scared right now, holding his hand makes me feel completely safe. The same person I'm terrified of can make me feel safer than anyone else.

"You brought the truck," I say when we get outside.

His Chevy truck has aged; the rust from a few years ago now covers every wheel well and creeps up the side of the bed. How does this thing even pass inspection?

"We mostly use it as a maintenance truck at the ranch, but we have so much history in this thing that it seemed right to bring it tonight."
I smile at him. "It's perfect."

Josh opens the door and I clamber inside, tucking my skirt beneath me as I sit on the peeling leather seat. I remember a thousand nights we spent talking in his truck, hours we've spent driving, the tears I cried in this very seat.

"This takes me back," I say as Josh puts the car in gear and it starts to grumble down the road. The engine hisses in protest when Josh tries to accelerate past 20 MPH and we both laugh.

Josh keeps one hand on the wheel and the other holds mine like he can't bear to let go of me. I think we're both a little afraid that if we don't act now, if we look away for just a second, this window in time will close and our chance will disappear.

"You're shaking," Josh says, glancing down to our interlocked fingers.

"I'm nervous," I confess. "I know it's stupid."

"It's not stupid. I'm straight up terrified," Josh says, laughing aloud.

"Me too."

We both laugh and I feel my nerves start to subside. This is Josh, the boy who broke my heart, yes, but also the boy who was my best friend for two years.

When we get to the restaurant, I start to laugh. It's a beautiful, fancy restaurant, a stone building lit by faux antique lights with the menu specials written in French on the front window. Every car here has to have cost at least 30,000 dollars, and here we come in a beat-up Chevy covered in rust.

"Maybe I should have brought the Jeep," Josh says.

"No, this is perfect. We're not exactly fancy restaurant people anyways."

"You don't like it?" Josh asks, getting out of the car and coming to the other side to help me out.

I place my hands on his shoulders and his rest on my waist as he helps me down, and I don't let go of him for a minute, looking up into his sapphire eyes. "Josh, don't worry. It's perfect."

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