Chapter 1
Payton
Singers and songwriters have made millions of dollars writing and performing songs about coming home. The sense of familiarity, comfort, and grace that four walls and a roof can provide. I wish I could channel some of those feelings because as I put my vehicle in park out front of my parents’ house, all I feel is emptiness. If the place I grew up in can’t put me back together, then what can?
Memories play in my mind like a movie as I stare at the front steps. The same steps that I once posed on for prom photos—smiling with not a care in the world—and danced down as I packed up this same car for college. The same steps I would sit on every night and wait for my dad to pull his vehicle into the driveway after a long shift. And even after he passed away, I would sit for hours, waiting for his car to appear, knowing it never would.
The girl who once believed in happily ever afters and that love could conquer all is long gone. She was too naïve and blinded by the sham of love that she couldn’t see what was right in front of her.
The only good thing to come from my mistakes is the sleeping angel in the back seat. It’s a miracle Gabby slept the entire drive from Eastway to here. Unfortunately, without her sweet coos and sounds, I’ve had plenty of time to drown deep in my thoughts.
How did we get here?
No, I don’t mean taking the interstate to exit 17to back roads through town. At twenty-two,Ithought I would interview for teaching jobs, setting up my cute little classroom or maybe even going after my master’s in early education,not divorced, a single mom, and a few credits shy of graduating college. And Idefinitelydidn’t think I would move back into my childhood bedroom. I thought once I left, that was it. I’d only be back for visits, holidays, or dropping my kids off for sleepovers at Grammy’s while I spent one-on-one time with my husband.
The word “husband” now leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Just the thought of Joel has me gripping the steering wheel so tightly I wonder if I’m leaving nail imprints in the leather.
Before I can let my thoughts consume me once again, the front door swings open, and my mother rushes out of the house.
“Fuck,” I exhale. “Here we go, baby girl.”
I unbuckle my seat belt and get out of my car as Mom waves her hands in the air in excitement. It’s like her name was just called to be the next contestant onThe Price is Right.
“You’re finally here,” she shrieks.
Mom yanks me forward with such a force I yelp a loud “oof” as her arms wrap around me. At first, my body is stiff as hell, but it’s not long before I sink into the embrace. I miss the days when there wasn’t anything a hug from my mom couldn’t fix.
“It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” Mom reassures me while rubbing small circles on my back.
I bite my lip to keep from replying with my honest thoughts.Will it be? How?
Mom’s grip loosens, and suddenly, I’m shoved to the side. For a tiny woman, Connie Mosby is feisty as hell. Probably why my dad called her his Mighty Mouse.
“Now, give me my granddaughter.”
I laugh, rubbing my arm as she opens the back seat and carefully retrieves my daughter’s carrier. Mom dotes over her only grandchild, talking to her in a sweet, baby voice.
“Guess I’m chopped liver,” I call out as Mom walks toward the house, completely ignoring me. A heavy sigh escapes my lips. “It’s cool, I got this.” Great, now I’m talking to myself since Mom has already disappeared inside.
Welcome home, Payton.
As I’m shutting the door that my mom left open, a familiar black jeep whips by and pulls into the driveway.Perfect fucking timing.
My older brother Ollie hops out and rushes around to help his wife, Hollie, out of the passenger side. It’s still crazy to see my brother so love-drunk. After the door shuts, Hollie giggles.
“Ollie, stop it. We’re out in public.”
I can’t hear my brother’s response, which is probably a good thing and not meant for little sister’s ears. When she giggles again, my smile falls, and I decide it’s best to focus on anything besides the happy couple.
It’s not that I’m not happy about my brother and his new bride. Honestly, I truly am, and I love my new sister-in-law—I have since the moment we met. But seeing them happy just makes my stomach twist. I hate feeling this bitter.
Do I mourn Joel Taylor? Hell no. Should I mourn the time wasted? Maybe. But what has me so upset is how can I notmourn the life I thought I was going to live, and how can I not mourn that my daughter will grow up in a broken home? That she will grow up not knowing the unconditional love between a father and his daughter. That’s what breaks my heart the most out of all of this. Not the lies and bullshit that man fed me for years. That’s nothing in comparison.
Giving them a moment of privacy, I reach into the center cup holder and grab the keys for the trailer I hauled with our belongings. There’s not much. Basically, everything I had taken with me to college and, of course, all of Gabby’s things. Joel’s and my divorce may have been the quickest divorce in the history of divorces.I just wanted it over. I didn’t want his money or his things—just mine and Gabby’s. Thank God we don’t live in a state that requires a yearlong separation before divorce.
I could spend hours on the what-ifs—had anything we had together been real? Was it all an act? Was he like that withher? When he was with me, was he always thinking ofher? How could I have been so blind? If I allowed it, I could let the thoughts eat me alive, but I can’t—I have to be strong, for my daughter’s sake.
“Hey, sis,” Ollie shouts, breaking me from the depths of my mind. He releases Hollie’s hand and pulls me into a side hug.
