Page 103 of The Score We Never Settled

“Because it’s a reminder of where we’re supposed to be and aren’t.”

My chest tightens because it can be. Itwillbe. Because I’ve never given up on Layla Jean and I don’t plan to for the rest of my life.

“When are you gonna realize, Mrs. Kerrigan, that this is it? You with your sass, me with my obsession, us sharing plates of food in the middle of a town that’s barely on a map. I may begone a lot, but I still want you in every capacity. You’re the love of my life. And I’m yours.”

She takes another bite of corn, then another, buying herself some time. I don’t mind; she can take all the time she needs while I clear this plate.

“Alright,” she finally responds. “I’ll look at it.”

Perfect.

Because you’re going to move into it, too.

27

LAYLA

He listened.

From the wooden wraparound porch with the swing to the dirt road it sits on, Briggs’s home is everything I imagined and everything I wanted inourhome.

Inside are wooden floors with high wooden beams on the ceiling. The walls are white with cream furniture and a view of acres upon acres of land through French doors and another wall of windows.

The sunset beams inside, making it feel warm and cozy but not suffocating. The kitchen is top-tier with double ovens, multitudes of pans hanging over a gigantic island made of white marble and wood, and I haven’t even seen the bedrooms yet.

“This is magnificent,” I say in awe, running the tips of my fingers along the marble as I look out the wall of more windows that give me another view of the property.

Land.

No neighbors.

Just peace, quiet, and beauty.

“Is it everything you ever dreamed of, Short Stop?”

My heart constricts in my chest because it’s equally overwhelming as it is heartfelt. He did all this for me.

For us.

For a future.

A real one.

Even before I finally came clean and practically told the whole town through Cruz that we were married.

Briggs has always had faith in what he wanted, what he’d have, and what we could be together, even when I wasn’t sure.

And how do I compensate for all the things I’ve done to him?

All the doubt and blame?

He deserves a woman who is sure, confident, and unwavering in her decision to have him. I was too young, too naive, and too stupid, and I’ve ruined everything.

“It’s perfect,” I croak, stopping to continue to admire the view.

“Glad you like it.” His hand comes to rest on the countertop to my left, and I mindlessly glance down to find those damn blue bracelets again, wrapped around his wrists.

It’s painful, in a way, that he’s held on so tight, and I let go for him to free fall.