PROLOGUE
CAMILLE
Igrab the last of my boxes and rush out the front door. I don't have much to load in my car. Most of my belongings left four days ago on the moving truck. I only kept enough clothes behind to last me a week, toiletries, and the valuables I wanted to keep with me. If I time my drive right, I’ll arrive in Montana the same day as the truck.
“Camille, stop and listen to reason,” my mother calls from behind me.
“There’s nothing to listen to, Mother. It’s done. This is no longer my house.” I accepted an offer on it three weeks ago, and the new owners take possession in two days. I’ve already signed the paperwork. There’s no going back.
I lock the front door and slip the keys into the planter box next to the porch railing like the realtor asked, officially closing this chapter of my life.
It was hard deciding to sell. For ten years, I called this househome. I built a life here with my husband and kids. But it ceased being the home I built two years ago when my husband and son died in a car accident. With Elizabeth, my oldest and only surviving child, living on her own, I was stuck alone in this house surrounded by memories—memories that haunted me. Everytime I turned around, something reminded me of Mark or Alex. It’s too painful to stay.
“You’re making a big mistake,” Mother barks at me from the front porch. I roll my eyes at her harsh tone and head to my car. She never speaks nicely, not even when she’s happy. “It’s foolish of you to move all the way across the country. Georgia is your home.”
Elizabeth pulls up just as I shut the trunk. This is the goodbye I’m dreading. Leaving her behind was the hardest part of this decision. “We’ve been over this a million times. I need this. I’ve had time, and now I need space.”
“You can get the space you need here. I don’t understand why you have to move so far away.”
“I know you don’t, and that’s okay.” I’d made peace with the fact that she might never understand.
Elizabeth comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my chest. God, I’m gonna miss this girl. “Hi, sweetie.”
“Grandmother’s still being a pain in the ass, I see,” she whispers in my ear.
I laugh. “We’d be confused otherwise.”
“I’ll distract her while you get in the car as long as you promise me, you’re not letting her get to you.”
“I’m trying.” I pat her arm. “But it’s hard.”
Elizabeth releases me and I immediately want to pull her back. I don’t know when I’ll get another hug from her, and I need to stock up. “Need me to help you get anything else from the house?”
I shake my head and fight back the tears. “I got it all. All that’s left is this,” I point between us, “the hard part.”
Tears break free from her eyes, and that’s all it takes for my own to start flowing. We’ve been preparing for this goodbye for weeks, but no amount of preparation eases this pain. In the twenty-five years since she was born, I haven’t gone more thantwo weeks without seeing her. Now, I’m moving to Montana. I’ll be lucky if I see her three times a year.
“See what you’ve done? You’ve made your daughter cry.” Mother’s words cut through me.
“Mother!” I wipe my tears and try not to let her words hurt me. This is what she always does. She badgers me and insults me until I give in and do what she wants. Not this time. I’m leaving, and there’s nothing she can do to stop me.
“This is ridiculous. I’m calling your father.”
Elizabeth reaches out and takes my mother’s hand before she can dig her phone out of her purse. Her jaw drops and she huffs at my daughter’s action. “Grandmother, please. Don’t make this harder than it already is. I’m okay with Mom moving. I’m gonna miss her, but this will be good for her.”
Mother jerks her hand away and steps back. “Well, I have never—”
Not wanting to fight with her, I push this along. “I better get going if I want to make it to Nashville tonight. It’s a long drive, and I want to get it done in three days if possible.”
Mother spins on her heels and walks away.
“Mother? At least give me a hug before I leave.” She keeps walking and doesn’t look back. When she gets in her car and drives away, a fresh batch of tears escape my eyes. I don’t know why her behavior upsets me. I can’t remember the last time either of my parents hugged me.
Why should this moment be any different?
Elizabeth wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek. “Don’t let her get to you. She has the emotional capacity of an ant. You know that.”
I wipe my tears. “I know. But it still hurts.”
