“Mr. Adams expressed the urgency of your situation, which aligned with Noah’s thoughts, too. He also offered quite a substantial donation to Havenwood.”
“He did?” I feel like I can’t breathe.
“There were no strings attached, of course,” Joanna adds. “Mr. Adams made it clear he wasn't attempting to buy Harlan’s way into our community. Still, his offer was a generous one.”
“He’s a generous man,” I say.
“After we spoke, our residential committee met, and we considered the information you shared, plus Noah’s personal endorsement, and we’ve approved a spot for your father here at Havenwood.”
I exhale what feels like a hundred lungs full of fear in one long gust.
“This is incredible,” I say, tears springing to my eyes. “The thing is, I haven’t talked to my dad about this yet.” I admit. “Not directly.”
“That’s not uncommon,” Joanna says gently. “The subject of a move to a community like ours isn’t always easy to broach, especially when you couldn’t be sure it was a possibility.”
My eyes flit to Bridger again. “Havenwood was animpossibility.Until recently.”
“Then you were wise to reach out to me first. But I’m pleased to tell you we have a deluxe villa waiting for Harlan. He can move in as early as this weekend, but we’ll hold the space for him until the timing is right for everybody.”
“Oh, wow.” I gulp, tempted to pinch myself. I can’t believe this is real. Still, there’s the matter of cost. “A deluxe villa sounds … expensive. Do you have any spots that are just … kind of average?”
“Not to worry,” Joanna says. “The first twelve months have already been paid in full by Mr. Adams.”
Bridger.
My nose begins to sting, and I quickly swipe at it.
No crying, Loren. Stay focused.
“So you’re saying my dad can stay at Havenwood for a whole year?”
“Yes. And Mr. Adams also secured our guaranteed renewal option.”
I swipe the tear rolling down my cheek. “What does a guaranteed renewal option mean, exactly?”
“It means Harlan will have a place here in our care for as long as he wishes to live with us.”
Unspoken is the fact that, ultimately, none of us has a choice in the matter.
I know that all too well.
“Thank you so much,” I manage to choke before my voice breaks. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Joanna says. “Your husband already did.”
I dart my gaze across the room, like a magnet seeking iron. And my eyes land on Bridger Jefferson Adams.
My husband.
Chapter Seventeen
Bridger
A few instances from our little makeshift wedding reception are already seared into my memory.
Like the smell of vanilla frosting. And Loren’s laughter, louder than the music. The taste of her skin, delicate at her wrist. Her warm pulse as she licked her lips.
These are all sensory details I’ll never forget.