up. My chest hurt. I remembered feeling confused, torn between being sad I’d never even tried to kiss her and glad she thought so highly of me.
For a hot second, I’d thought about driving over to her house and kissing her goodbye just in case I never got another chance. I had no idea where in the world I was going to end up—Iraq was a pretty good guess—but even if I didn’t get blown up by an IED, I sensed instinctively that she’d have a boyfriend at college pretty quick. She was going to Harvard, for fuck’s sake. The guys there were going to be smart enough to see how amazing she was.
But I hadn’t gone. I always wanted her to think of me as her hero, and I couldn’t risk fucking that up.
Like I’d done this week.
“Christ, I was smarter at eighteen than I am now,” I muttered, carefully folding the letter again and tucking it and the photo back inside the envelope.
As I placed the shoebox back on the shelf, I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror on the inside of the closet door. I turned to face myself.
I didn’t like what I saw.
I tried squaring my shoulders. Lifting my chin. Sucking in my stomach. But it was no use. The same asshole stared back at me.
Angrily, I slammed the closet door and got ready for bed, even though it wasn’t even nine. I just wanted this fucking day to end.
But I couldn’t sleep.
I tossed and turned and cursed and fretted and kept checking the time. Nine o’clock. Ten o’clock. Eleven.
Christ almighty, I was exhausted. Why the fuck couldn’t I sleep?
Because you owe her an apology, you jackass, said a voice in my head. You treated her like shit today, and she’s going to get on a plane tomorrow and hate you forever if you say nothing.
But wasn’t that better? Why shouldn’t she hate me? I hated myself.
You used to be this girl’s hero. She thought you were brave. Now you can’t even get out of bed and go say you’re sorry? Your dad would be ashamed of you.
“Okay, okay. Just shut the fuck up,” I grumbled to the voice, throwing the covers off. “I’ll get out of bed, I’ll go say I’m sorry, I’ll try again to explain why it’s better if she doesn’t stay here, but just shut the fuck up.”
I glanced at my suit hanging in the closet, the one I’d planned to wear tonight, but ended up throwing on a pair of jeans and an army-green button down shirt. As I rolled up the sleeves, I checked my reflection again and wished I would have shaved today, but it was too late now.
I threw on a cap, grabbed my keys, and headed out. I had one goal—get her to forgive me.
Forgive me and leave.
Then I could sleep again.
Twenty-Six
Meg
Frannie’s wedding was beautiful.
The entire farm was transformed. In the orchard where the ceremony took place, lanterns hung from the trees and candles lined the aisle. Garlands of autumn leaves were draped along the backs of chairs. The air smelled like hot apple cider and cinnamon.
Frannie had never looked happier as my father walked her down the aisle toward Mack, who struggled to keep his composure when he saw her. My composure was a lost cause—I’d held myself together right up until the ceremony, but as soon as the string quartet started, the tears began to flow. Next to me in the second row, Sylvia took my hand and we both blubbered shamelessly as our baby sister glided toward the love of her life. After my dad shook hands with Mack and sat down, April quietly slid onto into chair on my other side.
“Need a tissue?” she whispered. “I brought plenty.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m a mess.”
I quieted down during the vows, but when the officiant pronounced them Mr. and Mrs. Declan MacAllister, I burst into tears all over again, clapping and crying at the same time.
In the bathroom, I mopped up my face, reapplied my mascara, and posed for family photos. I could only hope that I didn’t look like a red-nosed reindeer in all of them.
At the reception, I sat at a table with my parents, Brett and Sylvia, April, and Henry DeSantis, the winemaker at Cloverleigh. There were two empty chairs—one for Noah, and one for Henry’s wife. I’d told my mother that Noah was with his family tonight, since his sister had just had a baby, and she seemed to believe the