Page 65

Willow

I wait outside the courthouse with my heart in my throat and my fingers digging into my leather bag’s strap.

People begin filing out—reporters, spectators, the general public—but I keep my head down, not wanting to be noticed, which could feed their malicious fodder.

If there still is such a thing. I can hope that Rocket’s comments in there about me will make it out into the world. But the salacious sells better than the boring and so I’m not expecting much.

But he made the effort.

He protected me by defending me.

Now, if he’d just see it’d be better if we were a team together fighting against this ... and his words today gave me hope that there is.

Another deluge of people exit the courthouse and draw my attention. Their shoes click against the concrete steps, and their conversations are hushed and completely ignorant of the storm inside my chest .

I scan every face that passes, looking forhim.

Just one glimpse. One glance. One second of eye contact so I can know he saw me. That maybe, somehow, all the things he said in that courtroom were true and going to fix whatever broke between us.

And then I see him.

Black blazer. Long stride. Head bowed like the weight of the world is still sitting on his shoulders. His face is hidden beneath a baseball cap, the bill tattered at its edges.

My breath catches so hard it hurts.

He’s alone, moving fast, and the press hasn’t noticed him yet. I take a step off the wall, with my heart pounding and tears clogging my throat, but when he turns ... my hope crumbles in my chest. It’s not him.

He’s not here. Or maybe he is, and he left through a different door to avoid all of this. But I stay anyway, hoping to see him. Needing to see him.

I walked away without a fight, and therefore I’m no better than him. But he fought today. He took the first step, and I want to meet him halfway.

So I stay just in case. I stay until the courthouse doors close behind the last lingering intern, and the air feels too thick to breathe.

Then I decide to go to him. Because I need to. Because I have to. Because I can’t let us go without trying again.

His neighborhood looks the same but different. Like a place I used to belong. I pull up to the gate and roll down the window.

The guard steps out of the booth, adjusting his cap when he sees me. “Evening, Ms. Adams.”

“Hi,” I say, voice tight. “Is he ... can I see him?”

His mouth flattens into a frown. “I’m sorry. He’s not accepting visitors right now.”

Of course he’s not.

“Meaning he hasn’t changed his accepted visitor’s list or he’s reconfirmed it?” The first means it’s an oversight, and the latter means I’m not welcome at all.

“It hasn’t been updated in two weeks.” He glances over his shoulder at a car that exits through the opposing gate to the community. “You’re not giving up on him, are you?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’ve noticed you drive by a few times. You just never pull in. ”

I figure I should be embarrassed that he’s noticed but fuck it. There’s no shame in loving someone so much it hurts.

“Just making sure he’s okay,” I whisper, grateful for the sunglasses hiding the tears welling in my eyes.

The guard watches me a moment longer, and then something in his expression softens. “Give it time,” he says gently. “Sometimes men have to figure out how to say the big stuff.”

I blink fast and chuckle. “One can hope. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He winks. “Even if I were to let you in ... he’s not here.”

I drive home with an empty feeling.

No verdict yet. No answers. No Rocket. Just this ache that wraps around my ribs and refuses to let go.

By the time I pull into my building’s parking lot, the day has turned to twilight with the sky painted pastels I should appreciate. But I don’t. Can’t. Because I feel defeated.

Empty.

I reach for the car door handle, exhausted on every level, and then I see them.

Two figures sitting on the grass. One small. One broad-shouldered and relaxed. They both have ice cream cones in their hands, and a bright pinwheel is pushed in the grass in front of them.

Poppy is the first to spot me.

She jumps to her feet and holds her cone high like a torch before running toward me.

I’m afraid if I blink, they’ll vanish, but Rocket stands slowly, his eyes locked on mine like they never stopped looking.

“I brought a bribe,” he says and holds out one of the cones as Poppy wraps her free arm around my leg.

“Hello, Popstar. I’ve missed you so much!”

“Me too,” she whispers and then giggles.

“Well, two bribes, technically,” Rocket says, gesturing his head at the tiny person still holding my leg.

“A bribe?” I whisper.

“I figured if I showed up with sugar and wind toys, you might not slam the door in my face.”

I shake my head, laughing through tears I can’t hold back. “You never even knocked. ”

His smile is small, crooked. Nervous. “I didn’t want to assume I had the right. Not after ... well, after everything.”

He steps closer, slowly, carefully. “I fought today. For Poppy. For you. For us. You would’ve been proud of me.”

“I know. I was there. You were incredible,” I say.

“You were?”

I nod, words escaping me, and something in him crumples. But it’s not weakness. It’s surrender .

He reaches out for my hand and touches me. All those sparks, those embers, come roaring back to life.

“I love you, Willow,” he says, voice breaking. “I love this girl, and I love the life we didn’t mean to build but did anyway.”

My breath hiccups on a sob.

“I thought letting you go would protect you, but all it did was break me.” He leans over and presses a kiss to Poppy’s head before looking back at me. “So ... if there’s even a part of you that still wants this, wantsme , then come back with us. Come home .”

Poppy squeezes my leg tighter—no doubt getting her melting ice cream everywhere, but I don’t care. This is my happiness. This is my home. This is all I ever wanted.

“Come home, Wiwwow,” Poppy says.

Three simple words, but they mean the world to me. They show just how far we’ve come. I throw my head back and laugh, and then lean over and press a kiss to the top of her head before standing up and brushing one against Rocket’s lips.

“Wiwwow, huh?” Rocket says and quirks an eyebrow as he places a hand on my lower back. He looks down at Poppy happily sandwiched between us, looking up and grinning with ice cream all over her face. “I love it.”

I smile and pull them both in a little closer.

“Home,” I whisper.