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Finn kept driving, hoping his silence would prompt her to tell him what she needed to tell him. He thought of the posters of her book covers—Levi’s art, a constant reminder of Levi—in her she-shed.

“I met him at the publishing house where I was working. He worked with a lot of houses, doing a lot of book covers. It was like…like…remember when we first met?”

“Me tapping on the glass of your car and scaring you?”

“No, silly.” She sniffled and shook her head. She’d swiped the wig off her head the moment they’d gotten in the truck, and now she ran her fingers through her hair. “When we first-first met. Ages ago.”

He glanced over to her again. “I wish I could go back to the beginning of this day,” he said. “Because no, I don’t remember meeting you for the first time. We had to be what? Twelve?”

“Eleven,” she said. “Sixth grade, when we finally went to the same middle school. Remember, I went to South Elementary and you went to North?” She sighed, but it didn’t exactly sound happy.

“I thought you were the cutest boy in the whole world.” She half-laughed, but it didn’t hold the same wattage as usual. “Remember how we sat at the same table in history? With Mister Stuntaker?”

Finn nodded, though he wished he remembered meeting Edith for the first time in middle school.

“We sat at the same table, because your last name is A and mine is B, and I was thrilled.” She gave a light laugh, though she definitely still had tears present. “Mister Stuntaker didn’t care where we sat as long as it was at the same table, and I tried to get there early and save you a seat.”

“You did?”

She nodded. “I thought I was being so obvious.” She scoffed. “But looking back, I don’t think you noticed.”

“I liked you,” he said. “We were friends.” He remembered that much. Did he even remember when he’d started having feelings for her? Romantic feelings? He wasn’t sure he did.

“Yeah,” she said. “We were friends.” She took in a long breath. “One day, you caught me coming out of the home ec classroom, and you said, ‘Is that your class before history?’ I told you yes, and you had PE, and you started waiting across the hall for me to come out of class. Then we’d walk to history together. It was…incredible. That was incredible to me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he murmured.

“I wrote your last name after my first name on every notebook I got that year. I named all our kids, and I even wrote about you in one of our assignments for Mrs. Workman. Remember her?”

Of course Finn remembered her. She was the English teacher that caused him to hate reading and writing. “Yeah,” he said miserably.

“Then, one day, you asked me for help with your history paper. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. We got along great, and you were a fast learner, and we were practically inseparable after that.”

Finn dared to peek over to her, and Edith did shine again the way she had at the library. Only this time, she had tears streaming down her face.

“Meeting Levi was like that,” she whispered. “It was like meeting you all over again. There was just so much between us, as if we’d known each other before. He was handsome, and kind, and so talented. Everything with him was easy.” She sniffled and reached up to wipe her face. “The way it’s always been with you.”

“Sweetheart.”

She shook her head as her face crumbled again, and Finn didn’t know what to do now. “I feel like a complete jerk.”

“Don’t,” she said. “It’s not your fault.”

“I made assumptions.”

“No, you didn’t.” She reached over and took his hand in hers. “I do love Levi, Finn. I don’t know how to stop loving Levi. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love you too.”

He met her gaze and squeezed her hand. His throat closed again, but he managed to say, “We’re too far from Amarillo to go back for lunch.”

She gave him a teary-eyed smile. “I know a great Thai place in Stinnett.”

He nodded and said, “Okay.”

“Will you still take me to the farm you want to see?” Her voice turned tinny then. “I’m so sorry, Finn. I’ve been trying to take steps to get myself down the road to be where you are. I promise. You’re just so much faster than me. You’ve always been faster than me.”

Finn couldn’t stand this level of hurt in her voice. He eased up on the accelerator and pulled to the side of the road. “Sweetheart.” He leaned toward her, but he hated the console between them. He slid from the truck and rounded it, opening her door in the blazing summer heat.

“Hey, come on.” He gathered her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Or force her to tell him all this stuff about them as kids or relive how she’d met and fallen in love with Levi