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“And I have a wife.”

Looking at Bo, I think of Mabel and the things she missed out on with Paul. Herhindsight is a soul-sucking whore.I know what we both have to lose, but in this moment, all I want him to do is this.

“Bo—” My next words are stolen by the sound of George Strait barking. I blink, twice, and shake my head out of whatever trance I’ve been standing in. The dog that somehow moves like a silent ninja is standing at my feet, wagging his tail. Pissing my vagina right off.

I laugh under my breath, scrubbing my hand across the top of his head. When my eyes find Bo again, he’s backed away from mefar enough to turn on the light, causing both of us to blink to adjust to the brightness.

He smiles at me, but it doesn’t meet his eyes as he lingers in the doorway of the kitchen. “I should go.”

I don’t want him to, but I nod, walking him to the door then onto the porch.

I stop at the top of the steps; he stops at the bottom.

Then.

“If the offer still stands, I think I’d like to come over for dinner.”

Sixteen

I’ve already sweated throughmy underwear. Twice.

Every item of clothing I own sits in a pile on my bed as I try on another outfit. And another.

Why I’m so nervous about dinner makes no sense, yet here I am, freaking out.

Finally, a winner: long floral skirt and cream-colored linen shirt with strappy sandals. I quickly braid my hair to the side, showcasing the big feathery earrings that dangle from my ears.

After texting every concern I have about food—for both me and Huck—I told Bo I’d just bring my own cooler. When he said we were having pizza, I nearly canceled the whole thing and offered to cook instead.

He told me to relax, and I did. Sort of.

When I stood on my porch last night and said I wanted to come for dinner, I thought I’d have time. His version of time and mine are very different. I expected a week; he gave me twenty-four hours.

“What’s the big deal? You have to eat dinner every day, don’t you?”He said it like I haven’t planned my meals for the next month. Like I wasn’t nearly having a stroke in front of him.

Yet, here I am, cooler in tow as I meet Huck out at the minivan. The sight of him makes me give an audibleaww!

He’s wearing a blue checkered button-down shirt with a red bow tie, and his hair is combed to one side. It’s so adorable—he’s so proud—my heart squeezes as I open the van door for him as Miss Alice waves at us from the porch.

“Huck wonders what Bo’s house is going to be like!” he shouts from the back seat.

“Me too. It’s probably a tent,” I joke, making him laugh as we drive.

When we get there, I’m both incredibly surprised and not surprised at all. Bo lives in the cabin I accidentally liked on his social media page. It’s a poetic sort of irony as we stand outside of it, windows glowing in the middle of the patch of woods as the sun just starts to set. Like Veda’s house, I don’t even need to go inside to know the stacked-up logs create a space that feels like home. Bo built something people both love and share love in. Where life happens.

Lucy meets us first, bouncing down the steps in a yellow dress, running to us at a full sprint. “Birdie!” She hugs me and it’s all arms, butterfly clips, and giggles before she pulls back and stares at Huck.

“I like your bow tie,” she says to him.

He grips my hand and steps behind me, quiet. I kneel down next to him. “Huck, this is my friend, Lucy. I think she has a Venus flytrap plant somewhere.”

Lucy nods. “I do!” She beams. “Do you want to see it, Huck?”

Before I can interfere, “Do you want to see it, Huck?” pops out of his mouth.

Lucy giggles and puts a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot. What I meant was…I wonder if you want to see my Venus flytrap.”

Bo told her.