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Gabe opened the back door, and we stepped onto the deck I’d helped him build during my senior year of school. “Looks like the deck’s still holding up,” I said.

He grunted.

I took him in, his round face, his assessing gaze, and realized something. Losing Maggie hadn’t just been losing her. This man in front of me had been like a second father to me, someone I looked up to and tried to please. Now he was a stranger who hated some version of me that no longer existed.

He sat down on one of the chairs at an etched glass table, and I sat across from him.

“You wanted to talk,” he said. “So talk.”

I glanced across the table at him, noticing the similarities between him and his daughter—the blue eyes, the round face, angular nose. But there were differences too—the ruddiness in his cheeks from years in the sun, the rounded shape of his stomach, his gray eyebrows.

I knew Maggie always wanted an explanation, but with him, it was best to cut straight to the point.

“Gabe, I want to say I’m sorry for what happened back then. I know I apologized to Maggie, but I should have apologized to you too. I let you down when I broke my word to you.”

Gabe’s expression softened. “You were like the son I never had. And we’ve lived in this town the last fifteen years together, nary a word shared between us.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d never want to talk to me again,” I admitted. “Better to put my tail between my legs and run off than admit I fucked up the best thing to ever happen to me.”

His lips twisted into a wry smile. “I had some words I wanted to say to you when we finally got face to face.”

“Say them,” I said. “Get it out. Because if I’m laying my cards on the table, Mags is it for me. I knew it when I was eighteen years old, and I know it now. I hope you and I have to be around each other for years to come.”

He shook his head slowly, like he knew so much more than me. “She’s been back in town how long?”

I grit my teeth, holding back the retort I had.

“It’s easy to show up for someone a few months out of the year; it’s harder to be there for them through thick and thin. Through opening a business, and getting sick, and being broke, and everything else life throws at you.”

I nodded. “I know that.”

“My wife and I did it for eighteen years before something new and shiny came along for her.”

My features fell, because I remembered how hard that separation had been on him and Maggie. “I’d never do that to someone I committed to. My word means something now, Gabe.”

He lifted his chin, studying me. “It took a lot of guts to come over here.”

“We both know I have to make up for what I lack in the brains department.”

That earned me a small chuckle. Then he sobered, taking me in for a minute. “I don’t trust you. That’s earned over time, but I won’t stand between you and Maggie. I need to apologize to her too for the way I’ve acted. I lost my cool the other day when I saw you two together.”

“It’s understandable,” I said. “But not unforgivable.”

He chuckled. “I need to get better at that forgiving part. Mags and I both do. She’s still holding on to so much anger toward her mom.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I thought her mom left her high and dry? How would Maggie reach out?”

“She did.” Gabe folded his arms across his chest, straightened his legs a little. “But she’s been wanting to connect with Maggie again, and Mags won’t have it.”

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Of course, Mags is angry and hurt. And I think we both know it’s hard to let someone back in when they hurt you to the core.”

I took a deep breath, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. “Gabe... growing up is hard.”

He tossed his head back, laughing. “You’re telling me.”

With a smile still on my face, I said, “You know, I will help you with your truck, if you’ll have me.”