Written with You (The Regret Duet #2) - Aly Martinez Page 0,32

forever.

WILLOW

“What is this?” Beth snapped as she walked into my spare bedroom-slash-studio.

The backyard studio was almost finished thanks to Caven’s “chat” with the contractor. But it had been hard to get excited over anything in the week since Caven had stormed out of my house. I set the paint down and checked my phone for the five millionth time.

He hadn’t replied to the one text I’d sent him when I’d missed her first art class.

Me: Please tell her I’m sorry and that I love her very much.

I didn’t figure that would get relayed to Rosalee, but it was worth a shot.

I missed them. A lot. But I had no tears left and the pain in my chest had become so constant that I didn’t feel it anymore.

I’d failed.

Glancing over at Beth, I saw she was holding a cardboard cylinder and guessed, “An empty toilet paper roll?”

“Exactly. Now, do you know where I found it?”

I blinked up at her, not in any mood for a guessing game. “Go away.”

“In the trash, Lo. In. The. Trash. The Earth is crying right now.”

“If the Earth is crying, it’s because you’ve driven over here fifteen times in the last seven days.”

She dragged an extra stool over, so close that it was nearly touching mine, and plopped down. “Yes, remind me to bill you for mileage this month.”

“Is there a purpose to this visit?”

She grinned. “Depends. How was your day?”

“Well, let’s see. I ate granola and raisins for breakfast.”

She nodded approvingly. “Good, good. Food is good.”

“I cussed out Hadley twice in the mirror.”

“More good. Get that anger out.”

“Then I cried in the car when I convinced myself it was okay to ride over to his house, but then I wouldn’t allow myself to actually leave my driveway.”

Her smile fell. “Shit.”

“Pretty much.” I blew out a ragged sigh. “What about you?”

Her smile returned, but it was nothing more than a pretty hood ornament for the discomfort in her eyes. “I talked to Caven’s attorney today.”

My heart sank. “Oh, goodie.”

Her proximity made more sense when her hand landed on my back for a soothing rub. “He’s agreed to add Hadley Banks to Rosalee’s birth certificate.”

I shot to my feet, a tsunami of hope flooding my veins. “What?”

“Under the condition that Hadley waives her parental rights.”

And there it was—the bittersweet end. He wasn’t going to turn me into the police for lying about my identity. He wasn’t going to make this a media spectacle. He just wanted it over. And despite the way my heart was breaking, I couldn’t blame him for that one bit.

My whole body sagged with defeat. “Okay.”

It was Beth’s turn to shoot to her feet. “Okay? After all of this, you’re just going to give up?”

“I’m not giving up. He knows Hadley is gone. So signing this piece of paper means nothing, but the fact that he’s willing to add her to the birth certificate means everything. It’s a compromise. Not exactly the outcome I would have liked. But if it’s this or nothing, I’ll take honoring my sister every day of the week.”

“We don’t need his permission to add Hadley to the birth certificate though. We have DNA.”

I walked to the bathroom across the hall, and she propped her shoulder against the doorjamb as I washed my hands. “He knows that. He’s waving the white flag. I push this, he’s going to push back ten times harder. I gave him all of Hadley’s journals. One handwriting sample and he’d have all the proof he needed.”

Her mouth fell open. “You what?”

“I’m done!” I exclaimed, my voice echoing around the bathroom. “I knew when I hatched this plan that it was wrong. It was selfish and careless. I just didn’t care what it cost me. I didn’t care if I had to take responsibility for Hadley’s crimes. I didn’t care about anything except for Rosalee. But, now, I’ve lost her and hurt Caven in the process. I was wrong, Beth. I am the villain in the story. I always said I was going to make this right—for Hadley and my family. But the only right in this entire situation is for Rosalee. It’s time to make things right for her.

“Before I came along, she and Caven were living a blissfully quiet life. She might not have a mom, but peace and safety are a hell of a lot more than Hadley and I ever had. She’ll grow up one day. Only”—my voice cracked with emotion as I did the math—“fourteen more years before she can

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