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He hadn’t driven that truck in years, but if it got me where I needed to go, that was all I cared about.

I tugged on the pair of jeans Jesse had left in the living room and headed out. Gramps just smirked from his chair with his snack, letting me go without a word.

The truck coughed and sputtered, but I coaxed it to life. Mom and Dad’s house wasn’t far, and by the time I rolled down the gravel drive, the engine gave up. I laughed, smacking the steering wheel like it was an old friend before climbing out.

I walked around the property, kicking at the rocks and looking at the trees. But when the wind picked up, I stood still and closed my eyes, letting it wash over me, and whispered, “I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m sorry I spent twenty years pretending I was fine. I’m sorry I became the kind of man my lawyer thought I was.”

I walked back around to the front of the house and looked up.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for that night. But I think you have probably already forgiven me. So instead of saying I’m sorry, I’ll promise to do better. From here on out, I’ll be better.”

I stayed in front of the house, staring up at it, the weight finally easing off my chest. I didn’t hear the truck pull up behind me or the gravel crunching beneath footsteps, but I felt hands land on my shoulders.

“You two found me,” I said, smiling as I turned to see Easton and Miles on either side of me.

“Gramps called,” Easton said. “Said the truck probably wouldn’t restart.”

“So we came to pick you up,” Miles added.

We all stood there, silent, looking at the house we grew up in. For the first time, it didn’t feel like a graveyard. It felt like healing.

“So what now?” Miles asked.

“Now,” I said, steady for the first time in days, “I’ve gotta get my girl back.”

“Damn right you do,” Easton said, nudging me. “Tell us how we can help.”

“I don’t need help.” I climbed into the back of Easton’s truck, the decision already made. “I just need to be human.”

Chapter Sixty-Two

BLUE

I’d gottena voicemail from Tammy about the pillows I’d ordered and ignored it. Those weren’t my pillows. That wasn’t my house. It wasn’t my problem.

What was my problem was the car that Marshal had towed to the shop. It was delivered to my driveway, repairs done and paid in full. I was irrationally annoyed that West had taken care of it even though he didn’t have to.

So I decided to go get the pillows with the ugly fabric that I’d picked in a fit of irritation because Tammy had rubbed me the wrong way that day. Still, she’d done the work, and I couldn’t stiff her. I’d just leave them at Fiddlers when I went to get my things out of the office. Someone could get them back to West from there.

When I pulled into the parking lot, a couple of cars already sat out front. For a second I thought about turning around. I wasn’t ready to face the whispers, wasn’t ready to see how much truth had seeped into the rumor mill.

But then Tammy turned from her window display and waved at me. Too late to back out. Turning around would only make me look more like an idiot. So I squared my shoulders, tightenedthe jaw that had been trembling for a week straight, and walked inside.

“Hey there!” Tammy called out. “Give me a second and I’ll be right with you.”

“Sure,” I muttered, ducking down a back aisle to buy myself a few seconds.

I was tracing my fingers over heavy bolts of fabric when I rounded a corner and ran straight into Grams.

My stomach dropped. I took a quick step back, bracing for her to look at me the way I deserved for lying to her.

Instead, she reached out, took my hand, and pulled me closer. “Oh my goodness, Blue, dear. How are you?” Her voice was low, quiet enough that no one else in the shop would hear.

I nodded, shrugged, tried to say fine without words. But she saw right through me.

“We heard everything,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “Miles told me y’all knew from the start. I’m sorry that I?—”