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THIRTY-TWO

ELI

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I ask for the thousandth time.

“Yep.”

I blow out a breath, my hands hanging between my knees as I try to keep from cringing at Sarah’s answer. Not that it would matter anyway; we’re already on the plane to the one place I never wanted to be again.

Sugarlake, Tennessee.

It’s been eight years since I’ve been there and even longer since I’ve spent more than a weekend. Now, I’m headed back for the foreseeable future—courtesy of my fiancée, who just had to have our wedding there. Said it would lend “small-town charm” to the big day.

“Charm” isn’t exactly the word I would use. More like a glimpse into an alternate reality, one I’m not sure I want to see. With every tick on the altitude, my chest squeezes tight, and my hands grow damp at the thought of what’s waiting once we step off the plane.

It won’t be a welcoming committee.

Even worse, we’ll be there for the next two months. All of summer break, planning the wedding of Sarah’s dreams, before going back to Florida as Mr. and Mrs. Carson. Problem is, there’s only one place in Sugarlake to get married. And besides the high school—which is the glaring reminder of my broken dreams—it’s the one place I’d like to avoid.

I should know by now I rarely get what I want.

Sarah thinks the fact that my little sister has an “in” with the preacher’s family just means it’s meant to be. I’m still holding out hope that two months isn’t enough notice. But I know it will be. There’re only so many people clambering to get married in a small town.

“Don’t you want to have it in Florida? Somewhere closer to where you grew up?” I try again.

Sarah sighs, patting my hand with her perfectly shaped, pink nails. “No, Eli. I want it in Tennessee, and I want to meet your family. It’s ridiculous I haven’t yet, to be honest. How are we about to get married and I don’t know anything about your roots? Let’s at least go and look at the options. Besides, you already talked to Lee about helping with the church, didn’t you?”

I nod, my jaw tensing when I think about how the conversation went. My baby sister was not a fan of finding out I was getting married. Bitched in my ear for a good twenty minutes about having to hear it from Pops instead of from me.

She’s right. I should have been the one to tell her, but I didn’t know how. Every time I tried, an invisible hand smacked over my mouth, stopping the words from passing my lips. Maybe I didn’t speak up because I’m still not sure of it myself. Or maybe it’s because I know that once Lee finds out about something, Becca finds out, too.

Not that it matters.

Becca wouldn’t care anyway. She never did.

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension that’s pulsing behind my ear and piercing my skull. I don’t want to step foot back in Sugarlake. Don’t want to face the ghosts that I left behind—or the ones that left me. But it’s what Sarah wants, and I can’t find it in me to say no.

I can’t give her all of me, but at least I can give her this.

It’s not even close to what she actually deserves.

Sarah’s love is a constant warmth. It slides on top of my skin and blankets me in her comfort, sheltering me from the icy, frozen tundra of the cold, cruel world. Being with her is as easy as breathing. And maybe that’s what love is supposed to feel like. Effortless. Steady. Calm.

But she doesn’t consume me.

Thank fucking God.

Still, her presence in my life kept me out of my own head when there was nothing but bad memories and painful heartbreak there to greet me. Connor was the one to take me out, and Sarah was the one who brought me home. Somewhere in the middle of all that, we ended up together.

I proposed once I found out Coach Andrews is retiring at the end of next year and that I’m up for head coach. This is the next logical step in my life. I’ll have the career. The home. The wife. Everything Ma always wanted for me. All the things I didn’t give her while I had the chance. Hopefully, I can appease her in death.

Maybe then the nightmares will stop.

* * *

Pops is the one who picks us up, and I’m shocked when I first see him. Granted, it’s been years, but the difference from what I remember is striking. He looks worn down, almost emaciated in appearance. Deep grooves line his once handsome face, and purple bags sink into his pale skin and accentuate his dull blue eyes. This is not the man who raised me.

I can’t say I really blame him. When Ma died, he lost the other half of his soul—the match to his flame. There’s no getting over that. There’s just surviving.

My chest grows tight with each mile, every bump in the road flipping my stomach. Coming home is rife with things I’d rather leave buried, and I can’t help the sinking feeling in my gut as we get closer to town, warning me there’s a shovel with my name on it, waiting to dig.

Nostalgia hits me like a train, but it’s not the gorgeous rise and fall of the Smoky Mountains in the distance or the smell of the yellow birch trees that get me. It’s standing outside of my childhood home.

I can’t believe I’m here.

Sarah gushes to Pops about the charm of the place—her favorite word, apparently—but I’m glued to my spot in the middle of the driveway, trying to ignore the absence of Ma’s presence in everything I see. The blue shutters lining the front windows are faded and worn. The garden that sprouted tulips, Ma’s favorite, is now overflowing with weeds.

A sickness fills my stomach, tossing around the whiskey I drank on the plane ride here.

Hands creep from behind me, wrapping around my chest while I stare at the basketball hoop still affixed to the sidewalk lining our drive. Sarah lays her head against my shoulder blade, speaking into the fabric of my shirt, the heat from her breath soaking through to my skin.

It isn’t enough to take away the sudden chill.

“You okay?” she asks.

I turn, pasting a smile on my face as I grab her hand, linking our fingers and swinging them between us.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just weird to be back.”

She grins, her teeth blinding, matching the sparkle of her eyes. “Exciting, right?”

“Super.” I draw out the word, my brows rising, and she smacks my chest with a giggle.

Once we’re inside, Pops goes straight to the fridge, cracking open two Budweisers and handing me one. He quirks a brow, pointing the neck of his bottle toward Sarah. “You want one, lil’ lady?”

She sits at the table, shaking her head no and asking for a water instead. I plop down next to her, the heaviness of my heart making my legs too weak to stand. If I look hard enough, I swear I can see Ma baking her banana bread. I half expect Pops to sneak up behind her to press kisses on her neck. Tension pulls tight across my chest and I gulp down my beer, focusing on the cold as it slips down my throat. “Where’s Lee?”

Pops lifts his shoulder, sinking into the seat across from me and tapping his fingers on the worn oak of the table. “Who knows where that girl is.”

My forehead scrunches, his answer surprising me. Pops has always been extremely protective when it comes to Lee. Probably too protective, not wanting to see his little girl grow up before his eyes. His cold, detached demeanor makes my stomach sour.

The front door opens and shuts before I can respond, and my gut churns, the carbonation of the beer threatening to burn my throat on its way back up.

That must be her.

While seeing Pops is hard, I’m more nervous to come face-to-face with the baby sister who’s hated me for most of my adult life. But it isn’t Lee who walks into the kitchen.

My lungs expand as I suck in a deep breath of relief, but I can’t deny the slight disappointment.

“Mr. Carson, I’ve got stuff to make fajitas tonight, hope you’re hungry.” The man’s voice is deep and there’s something about him that’s familiar. He drops the grocery bags on the counter, spinning around and freezing in place, his hand halfway to his tousled, dark hair. His eyes widen as they lock on me.

“Holy fuck, Eli?”

My brows furrow as I try to place him.

His posture is tense, his eyes scanning my face. “You have no clue who I am, do you?”

“Should I?”

“Depends. Do you normally forget the boy who grew up three houses down and dated your sister for years?”

Tilting my head, I take him in fully. “Chase?”

“The one and only.” He smirks, his hands rising to his sides.

I know him, of course. Both he and his little sister were attached to Lee’s hip since they were kids. But he does not look like the gangly boy I remember. It makes me wonder what Lee looks like now, and if I saw her on the street, would I even know to stop? The thought clamps around my heart, spreading a deep ache through my middle.

“Does Goldi know you’re here?” Chase asks, his face growing serious.

“Who’s Goldi?” Sarah blurts. “I’m Sarah, by the way. Eli’s fiancée.”

“Hi,” Chase responds, his eyes still locked on mine. “Does she? Or is she about to be blindsided when she walks in?”

“She knows,” Pops grumbles. “She’s been knowin’ he was comin’ home. No one invited you over, though, boy.”

Chase smirks, patting him on the shoulder before walking to the stove and getting out pots and pans like he’s lived here his whole life. Hell, maybe he has. How would I know?

Pops grabs another beer for us both, and I accept it on autopilot, still foggy from the cocktail of emotions that has taken over since arriving back in town. It’s barely a passing thought that while I’m just finishing my first drink, Pops is about to be on his fourth.

“So, Sarah…” Pops begins. “How’d Eli land a gal like you? He woo you by relivin’ the good ol’ days when he was king of this town?”

My stomach whips into my throat at his words because I knew he would bring this up. It’s just like him. He’s never been able to help himself from reliving the glory days. Used to be his own, now it’s always mine. But there is nothing I want to talk about less than how things used to be.

Still, I force out a laugh like his words aren’t a heated blade searing old wounds.

I’m still chuckling when I turn my head and lose my breath.

Lee is gawking in the doorway to the kitchen. My heart presses against my ribs with every beat, my throat thick with emotion at seeing my baby sister.

She’s so damn grown up.

I clear my throat, smiling so wide, I almost convince myself I’m not scared half to death. “Hey, Lee. About time you got here. Pops and I were about to start in on all of your embarrassing stories.”

It’s not true. In fact, Pops hasn’t brought her up a single time, other than when Chase mentioned her. Something dark and foreboding tingles across the back of my neck, making the hairs stand on end.

Lee jerks out of her frozen state, eyes flicking toward Chase before she sinks into a chair at the head of the table.

“Eli,” she breathes. “I thought y’all weren’t gettin’ here until Friday.”

“We decided to come early. Not excited to see me?” I chuckle to hide the confusion of my thoughts. I thought Pops said he told her.

“Just surprised is all.” She nods toward Sarah. “Big-city life make you forget your manners, Eli? You plannin’ on makin’ any introductions?”

The smile drops off my face, the guilt tossing my stomach because, honestly, I forgot Sarah was even there. Too caught up in my own shit to remember she’s the reason I’m here in the first place.

To get married.

And to, hopefully, close this chapter of my life once and for all.

Sarah introduces herself, but I don’t listen to what she’s saying. I’m too busy trying to take in Lee. Her posture is slumped like there’s a heavy weight on her back, and I wonder how long she’s been carrying it.

Lee’s eyes shift to me. “Speakin’ of weddin’ details, I’m just gonna give y’all Becca’s number so you can call her yourself.”

My shoulders stiffen. Her name is a shot of adrenaline, my heart slamming against my insides. I had asked Lee to see if Becca could pull some strings, guarantee the church for us in time for the ceremony. I had hoped if she did it for me, I wouldn’t have to face Becca in the flesh. “What? I don’t want to do that. Why can’t you just talk to her for me like I asked you to?”

“For one thing, Eli, I’m not your dang servant. For another, I did ask her and she wasn’t exactly responsive.” Lee’s face scrunches, her head cocking to the side. “What happened with you two, anyway?”

My stomach twists and turns, her words knocking against the chained-up parts of my soul—the parts I keep shrouded in darkness—trying to set them free.

My hand reaches out, squeezing Sarah’s thigh, hoping her presence can anchor me enough to keep me in control. She’s always there, silent but steady. Surface level and just what I need.

“Nothing.” My words are sharp, and I feel them all the way to my bones. It’s true. No matter how important I thought it was, she proved me wrong the second she ran away.

Fuck her.

She’s nothing to me now. And if I see her, I’ll make sure she knows it.