He lets me go and I wrap a hand around my stomach as nausea overcomes me. Lincoln withdraws a piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to me. I stare at it and he motions with his chin for me to open it.
I do and the nausea takes a hike when I see the beautiful words addressed to Mr. Turner from the University of Florida. “You were accepted.”
Lincoln flashes this unbelievably beautiful smile. “I knew I’d spill if I talked to you before then. I got in. As of next semester, I’ll be here right beside you.”
He’s worked hard for this—spending an entire summer in school, then this semester in community college at home. With no scholarship, he worked a full-time second-shift job in a lumberyard to save money to pay Florida’s tuition.
I touch his cheek, and he reaches up and grabs my hand, keeping it pressed close to his skin. Yep, Lincoln’s running days are officially over, and as much as I hate that his path has been difficult, I’m sort of grateful. It taught him how to work toward a goal and it taught me how to stand on my own.
“I’m proud of you,” I say.
His grip on my waist tightens as he brings me closer to him. “I told you I’d never let you down again. I love you, Lila.”
“And I love you.”