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“I can’t stay here a week, granny.”

“How come you can’t?”

“Because I won’t get any work done.”

She harrumphed, gathering more green beans on her fork. “You got plenty of time to work. Nothing wrong with taking the load off after your trip.”

“I’ve been taking the load off for a year,” I reminded her, my voice faint.

“You’ve beengrieving,” she pointed out. “Two different things.”

She gave me a smile that spoke volumes before her eyes swelled with excitement. “Ooh, Pauly, it’s a good thing you picked up that case of Cheerwine today. We can make floats for dessert.”

I was already full of the fried pork chops, potatoes, green beans and biscuits we’d had for dinner, but just the mention of my favorite childhood dessert had me trying to figure out how I was going to make room for more.

This woman wasn’t playing fair, and that triumphant wink she slid me told me she had no plans of letting up.

I didn’t stay with my grandparents for a week.

I stayed for two.

And to put it simply, I had zero regrets.

As much as I hated to admit it, I hadn’t wanted to spend my first few nights here alone. I just wanted to be surrounded by people who treated me normal. And that’s what my grandparents gave me.

Every morning, I got up and helped my grandma get her truck ready for the drive to the farm, so she could pick up the fruit she’d sell in town that day.

Every afternoon, I sat with my granddaddy on the porch and did word searches while he read the paper.

Every night, I got a home-cooked meal and cuddles with Lady.

Two weekends in a row I’d let my grandmother spike my lemonade with moonshine. And two weekends in a row I’d had the time of my life.

My grandparents’ house was open to everybody, and somebody was always around without it feeling overwhelming.

The slow living was everything I needed to get my dysregulated nervous system back on track.

Two weeks of quality time with my favorite people hadn’t undone a year of chaos, but I finally felt like I was on the right track.

Now, I was driving to the cabin, my car loaded down with groceries and all the clothes I’d packed in the spur of the moment before leaving King’s Town.

Camryn groaned as I made the climb up the mountain, a sound from the right side of the hood that had been growing more and more frequent.

“Please just get me up this mountain and I promise not to bother you for at least a month.”

The groan persisted, but with my foot on the gas and a prayer on my lips, I made the steep climb up Bliss Mountain. It felt like I was moving at a crawl even though my speedometer read forty-five miles per hour.

I kept my eyes trained ahead, knowing that if I looked in my rear mirror, I’d see a drop behind me steep enough to make my stomach plummet.

A few engine sputters later, I’d made my ascent and exhaled, placing my right hand over my chest. My heart knocked like I’d just run a damn mile in sixty seconds.

With a grimace, I patted Camryn’s dashboard again and continued my drive.

I could afford a new car, but a new car didn’t hold the sentimental value Camryn did. I’d been through everything in this car. I’d made it through undergrad in this car. I hit publish on my first novel in this car. I’d sped through the streets of King’s Town that night to my sister’s apartment in this car…

With a gulp, I redirected my thoughts and focused on the stunning resort coming into view now that the road had widened from two lanes to four.

Wolfe Summit Ski Resort.