Usually when she made a decision, she was determined to see it through. This time was different. Facing the morass of memories was so much easier in theory than in real life. Midnight was the place of her worst nightmare. Where her childhood had begun and ended much too soon. It was the place where her vulnerable, romantic heart had bloomed with overwhelming love and then was shattered beyond recognition. Years had gone by before she’d felt the slightest mend to her damaged heart. And very soon she would be seeing the man who had caused that devastation.
But she couldn’t keep putting off the inevitable. Her granddad would have wanted them to get this over with and get on with their lives. She and her sisters had gone back for the funeral, of course. Daniel Wilde was one of the kindest, most generous men God had ever put on this earth. His kindness had thankfully included making all the plans and arrangements for his funeral. Though he had passed away unexpectedly, when she and her sisters had arrived home, expecting to have to make numerous decisions, they had discovered they needed to do nothing but mourn their loss and accept condolences.
Losing their granddad had left Savannah and her sisters too devastated to even contemplate selling the Wilde house. They had arranged to continue with the same cleaning and lawn service with the knowledge that at some point, one of them would have to return to do what was necessary. Savannah, ever the practical one, had mentioned this several times during their monthly get-togethers. She understood their reasons for putting it off—she had delayed also. Putting the house up for sale was the final goodbye.
She had called both Sammie and Bri to tell them she was going back, but they’d both been out. She wanted to make sure they were okay with her decisions about the sale. Granddad had made Savannah the executrix of his estate, but all three sisters had equal inheritance.
The cellphone she’d dropped on the front passenger seat rang. Knowing it was one of her sisters, she pressed the answer button on her steering wheel and said, “Hey.”
“What the hell happened?”
Surprised at the worry in Sammie’s voice, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“I just saw photos of you being attacked. Why didn’t you tell me? Are you okay?”
“Photos? Where?”
“The Tennessean.”
Crap. She should have realized Nashville newspapers would’ve printed a story and photos if they had them. “I’m sorry, Sammie. I left you a message.”
“Yeah, that you were taking some time off to go back home and get the house ready for sale. You never mentioned you were attacked.”
Savannah shrugged and then winced. Dammit, her back still hurt. “It was no big deal.”
Sammie’s exasperated snort came through loud and clear. “Only you would say that, Savvy.” Her voice softened. “But you’re really okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a couple of bruises, nothing more.” She took a breath and asked, “So, what do you think about me going down there?”
“Well, it’s way past time for us to do something.”
The hesitancy in her sister’s voice wasn’t lost on her. “I hear a ‘but’ in there.”
“Are you really ready to see him again?”
Savannah didn’t have to question who the “him” was. There were no secrets between the sisters. They had been by her side at every devastating moment.
“I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I just know this needs to be done and I can’t be a coward forever.”
“Savannah Rose Wilde, you stop right there. There’s not a cowardly bone in your body.”
She disagreed but knew there was no point in arguing. Her sisters had always been her staunchest allies and defenders. They saw her as the innocent party but she knew the truth. There had been only one innocent in the entire ordeal.
“I just wish I could break away and be with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”
“I’ll be fine. Two months is more than enough time to get everything done. And seeing Zach won’t be that bad. I mean … it’s not like I still love him or anything.”
Sammie’s soft snort of doubt was something Savannah chose to ignore. She didn’t still love Zach—she was sure of it. Well, almost sure of it.
“He probably barely remembers me.”
“You know better than that.”
Did she? She had loved Zach with a youthful, starry-eyed passion. And for months, without the slightest encouragement from him, she had held on to a useless, pathetic hope. Sure that he would come back; sure that