Page 19 of The Only Road Back

BETH

The drive back to my hometown feels longer than it should, each passing mile dragging me deeper into a past I’ve spent years trying to outrun.

Jack’s hand rests on my thigh, his thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles. He hasn’t said much since we left, but his quiet presence speaks volumes.

Beside me, a small gift bag shifts with every bump in the road. Inside it is a soft gray bunny with floppy ears. I don’t know why I bought it. Maybe because showing up empty-handed felt worse. Or maybe because the baby didn’t ask for this mess.

Jack glances over, his green eyes calm but alert. “You sure about this?”

I tighten my grip on the ribbon handle. “Not one bit.”

He grins. “We can still turn around. Grab pie at Carol’s instead.”

My heart lurches at the offer. For a second, I imagine it—just the two of us, nowhere near this town or its ghosts. But that’s not why I came.

“I need to do this.”

Jack nods. “Then we do it together.”

The truck eases into my aunt’s driveway. Lori stands on the porch, arms folded, lips curved in a bemused smirk.

“You actually showed.”

I step out, smoothing the soft blue wrap dress I picked with care, not flashy, not casual. Just enough to say: I’m doing fine.

I lift my chin. “Of course.”

Her gaze sweeps over me, eyebrows arching. “Damn, girl. You look hot. You’ve got a glow.”

Jack joins me, slipping a hand to the small of my back. Lori’s eyes flick to him.

“Okay, now I get it.”

Jack lifts a brow. “Get what?”

She grins at me. “Why she looks like she won the breakup.”

Jack chuckles.

I roll my eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Inside, a hush falls, brief but unmistakable. Conversations stumble. Eyes turn. My presence isn’t unnoticed. It’s nuclear.

My mother moves toward us, polished and poised as ever. Pearls at her throat. That curated smile.

“Beth. We weren’t expecting you.”

“Neither was I.”

Her eyes land on Jack. Her smile tightens. “And you must be Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Harrison,” he says, tone cool, posture firm.

She turns on her heel. “Well, the party’s already started.”

Pastel garlands sweep the room. The buffet groans under platters, and a towering pink-and-white cake dominates the center. A mountain of baby gifts spills into a corner.

Near the fireplace, she stands.

Stephanie.

One hand on her belly, the other looped through Clark’s arm like a victory lap. She glows, sure, but not in a way that makes me envious. In a way that burns.

Her eyes find mine. Surprise flickers, then fades into a too-sweet smile while Clark shifts beside her, rigid, looking down at the floor.

I nod once. “Stephanie.”

She tilts her head. “Didn’t think you’d have the guts.”

Jack steps closer. “She’s got more guts than you ever will.”

Stephanie’s smile twitches. “Aren’t you the loyal one?”

“I came to drop this off,” I say, holding out the bag.

She pauses, as if the gesture has short-circuited her. Then, slowly, she takes it.

“How generous,” she says flatly.

My eyes find Clark. “Clark.”

He finally looks at me. His voice is low. “Beth.”

Silence thickens between us.

Stephanie sighs, overplaying it. “Well, this is awkward.”

“It wasn’t,” Lori calls from the entryway, “until you opened your mouth.”

Stephanie’s glare could slice concrete, but Lori’s grin just dares her to try.

I adjust my purse strap. “I’ve done what I came to do. We’re leaving.”

Stephanie’s brows lift. “Already?”

“I didn’t come for conversation.”

She scoffs. “So, you dropped by to make a scene?”

I smile. “No. I came to prove to myself I don’t need to be here anymore.”

A beat.

“Enjoy your perfect little life,” I add. “I won’t wish you happiness. You’ll need to earn it.”

Mother makes a strangled sound behind me, but I don’t turn.

Stephanie opens her mouth—too late.

Jack takes my hand. We walk out.

Behind us, Lori mutters, “Damn. That was satisfying.”

I smile. Yeah. It was.

Outside, I finally let go of the breath I’d been holding.

Jack glances over. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I think I am.”

He studies me for a beat, then nods.

We reach the truck as Lori catches up.

“That was badass,” she says, breathless.

I laugh. “Thanks.”

Instead of heading straight home, we detour to lunch. Lori meets us at a cozy café, coffee already in hand.

“So,” she says, “work’s been quiet without you.”

I smile. “I miss it sometimes. But I’m happy with what I’m doing now. Being my own boss just feels right.”

She nods. “I’m still planning on coming to visit. I just don’t know when yet.”

Jack puts his hand on my knee. “The spare room will always be ready for you.”

“Thanks.”

We breeze through lunch with easy conversation. Lori is inquisitive, playful, protective, and utterly approving. As we hug goodbye, she winks.

“He’s a keeper. Don’t screw this up.”

I laugh, heart lighter than it’s been in ages. “Not planning to.”