My parents decide to stay in Oak Creek for a few days to see the town and learn more about the place I’ve told them I’m going to put down roots.
I get them checked into the Inn, and Indigo promises to take good care of them. Knowing Indigo, I suspect my parents might decide to just stay there forever. It’s good to show them the people I’ve met, to let them see how the townspeople greet me warmly. I can tell my dad is comforted to see how nice my townhouse is and to know I can afford it on my own, with my salary from the job I love.
My oldest brother texted my mom to let her know Jack had an “accident” leaving the bar after the hockey game last night, and my dad grunts noncommittally at this news. He and Hunter make eye contact across the table at the coffee shop. My mother reads another message from my brother to her phone. “Oh dear. Jack somehow got his ear closed in his truck door. How does such a thing happen?”
My father clears his throat and leans forward. “Abigail, you picked a real nice town for yourself. I like how Rose appreciates you, honey.”
I smile. This is strong praise from my father.
“But you know, you always have a home in Greenwood,” he continues. “That’s your home, baby girl. I’m just saying, if you want to come back, well…”
“Thanks, Dad,” I pat his hand. “I will come back.” Hunter gasps and I put my arm around his shoulder. “Just to visit. I’m happy here. I have a life here. There is still work I want to do here.”
My parents sip their coffee and Hunter stares at me, his gaze as intent as ever. “Son,” my father says to Hunter. “Is that friend of yours going to fly us back home or what? We’re sort of stranded here, and it’s almost game day…”
Hunter and I decide to drive my parents back to Ohio together. He and my brothers have made a plan to go retrieve my things from Jack’s house, and Hunter promises me that I don’t have to see him. I love how thoughtfully Hunter handles this situation, how he knows I feel uncomfortable at the thought of seeing Jack without my having to tell him.
In the days following the Heather fiasco, Hunter doubled down on his promise to be a good partner to me. He keeps a small notepad in his back pocket, and I see him writing things down, like “Abigail enjoys strawberries,” or “remind Abigail about socks at bedtime —>cold feet on my calves.”
I feel more seen, more carefully considered than I ever have in my life. I don’t know what will happen in the future, if I’ll feel content writing for Rose or if Oak Creek will call to me forever. But I know that this man by my side is here to support me, to appreciate me, and to bring me repeated, toe-curling orgasms.
Mom and I pack up the last of my things while Hunter and Dad check the oil in his car. She smiles out the window at the pair of them, Hunter gesturing at the synthetic oil and babbling about chemical residue, Dad listening skeptically. Hunter is nothing like any of us are used to, and I can tell my parents are ready and willing to learn to love his quirks.
Midway back from Ohio, we decide we don’t feel like driving the entire way in one go, so Hunter checks us into a resort. “Hunter!” I gasp as he lifts me off the ground in the hotel. He tells me I can spend the entire next day in the spa if I want, “but first,” he growls into my neck. “You have to spend the night on me.”
People stare at us as he carries me bride-style to our room, but I forget to care about that as soon as he lowers me to the bed and starts peeling off my clothes. “I need you,” I gasp, realizing how true this is as he sinks into me. His bare flesh against my wet heat feels like a homecoming, a joining of souls. I wrap my limbs around him and welcome Hunter deep inside, again and again, until we both forget what it meant to be apart.