think you need to come to the house. There’s a problem here.”
Not again. It’s been one headache after another. We ordered a new sink for Elizabeth’s house only to find it didn’t fit the cabinet. I investigated replacing the cabinet to find it isn’t a standard size, and this means a custom rebuild. The whole kitchen needs to be gutted, just as I suggested to Emily in the first place, but I can’t call her and tell her these things. I can’t explain to her how I canceled all her contractors and took on each project myself. I wanted to do these things for her. I told myself it was my thank you for all she did for Katie.
In reality, I did it because I love her.
It’s a truth I’ve refused to admit to her. I’m doing all this, hoping one day she’ll come back to me.
You chased, man. Now you have to let her go.
“Okay, give me fifteen, and I’ll be there,” I tell Sue. She’s been a good neighbor, looking after the place. She’s nosy but still a decent person. After that business with Gabe, when I exposed what he did with my wife to the Town Tavern, I thought word might get back to her. I worried she might resent me for what her precious son did, but she hasn’t mentioned it. Joe, on the other hand, can’t quite look me in the eye. He knows the truth, and he’s ashamed about the way his son behaved.
Katie’s at school, so it’s easy to hop in my truck and head over. I drive to Mrs. Parrish’s on autopilot, dreading the ache in my heart I feel every time I’m there. I’ve missed Emily every day like I said I would, and the silence between us has killed me.
When I pull up in front of the house, a car is parked in the driveway. I pull in behind it and stare at the license plate. Not the numbers and letters specifically, but the name of the state spelled out across the top of the metal. The red Jetta isn’t anything special, but I’d know it anywhere.
Slowly, I exit my truck. For some reason, I go around to the back instead of letting myself in the front door.
And there she is on her hands and knees, halfway in the playhouse, ass in the air, looking around inside.
“What the hell are you doing?” I laugh. I startle her, and she hits her head on something inside the small structure. She backs out and stands up while rubbing at her skull. Her hands are covered in dirt from being on all fours just outside the playhouse. Her jeans have mud patches on the knees from the damp earth. She continues to rub at her head where she bumped it, and the action makes her hair swirl all over. It’s standing up in places and falling loose from her ponytail.
She’s a hot mess.
And so fucking beautiful.
She stands there staring at me for a moment before she speaks. “I need to get into the house. I heard someone rented it, and the rental office is acting suspiciously about it. I’m exerting my right as the owner to order a cease and desist.”
This isn’t exactly the reunion I’d thought we’d have. I want her to rush into my arms. I want her to tell me she’s here to stay—not to visit, not to inspect the house.
“I’m not certain that’s a thing with renting.” She’s smart enough to know this, but she looks frantic. “So what were you doing in the playhouse?”
“Looking for a spare key.”
I raise my brows in question.
“I gave the rental agency the original and left a copy with Sue. She won’t let me have it. I don’t have another spare. I thought there might be one in here.”
I nod, and then cross the yard to the screened-in porch.
“Jess,” she calls after me, following me. Her voice is a mix of frustration and stress as though I’m walking away from her instead of leading her to what she wants.
Does she want the house back?
Will she kick out whoever lives here?
I reach up to the lip of the frame of the back door, pull down the key, and hold it out for her. She reaches forward for it, but I hike it a little higher, just out of her reach.
“How did you know that was there?”
“It’s a small town, Emily. Everyone has a spare key somewhere.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “Is that how you