Luna nodded slowly, sympathy softening her features. “Word got around that it was him. One of the parents sent out an email saying she was ‘deeply concerned’ about an ex-con financing anything tied to the school.”
“Are you kidding me?” My voice came out strained.
Madge shrugged. “I wish I was. There’s a petition circulating, and it’s got a couple dozen signatures already.”
A couple dozen? My heart shrank. They were all probably parents I knew. Maybe I’d even taught their kids. Maybe even smiled at them last week while serving apple pie at Friendsgiving.
“I’m sorry, Scarlett,” Luna said. “Are you okay?”
No. Not even a little. Instead of being honest, I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
“It’s got to be hard to have your hometown turn against you,” Madge said. Then she turned to me. “I know you were close to him once.”
Right. Once. That word cut into me more than it should have. Like we hadn’t shared a bed. Like I hadn’t been snowed in with him, wearing his sweatshirt and kissing him like I’d been starving for the taste of him for years.
“I have to get to class,” I mumbled, abandoning my mug and grabbing my tote like it could protect me from the small-town gossip mill.
Thank goodness the hallway outside the lounge was quiet. I rushed toward my classroom, my eyes fixed forward, trying not to think about how it felt when Kingston touched me. When he whispered that he wanted another chance. When I believed him.
But now this… a petition, this pushback. It was a reminder of everything I’d spent years trying to bury. Loving Kingston Raines came with consequences. Was I ready to take that on?
I slipped into my classroom and closed the door, pressing my forehead to the cool wood. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t go shouting his story from the mountaintops. And yet… here we were.
The weekend had been full of something that felt like hope. Like we could maybe have a second shot at this thing. And now? That hope was bruised, sitting somewhere in between my ribs and twisting tighter with every breath.
Kingston had warned me. He’d said people wouldn’t understand. That he didn’t want to bring me into the fallout of his past. I hadn’t believed him. I thought this town knew better. I thought they knew him. But maybe I didn’t know them as well as I thought.
My phone buzzed in my bag. I ignored it. I needed to teach. Needed to push through the school day like I wasn’t unraveling from the inside out.
The kids shuffled in, and the first few hours passed in a blur of spelling tests, lunch orders, and the sweet chaos of six-year-olds trying to get back into the swing of things after a long weekend.
After lunch, I finally looked at my phone.
Kingston: Hey. Checking in. You okay?
I stared at the screen, my thumbs hovering over the keys. How was I supposed to answer? I wasn’t okay. Not really. I was confused, and I was pissed… at the town, at myself, at fate for bringing him back into my life and turning everyone against him. But most of all, I was afraid. Because I could feel myself falling again. And this time, if I fell, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.
Me: I’m fine. We should talk later.
The response was quick.
Kingston: I’ll be here.
Of course he would. Waiting in that cabin like he always had. Like the man I used to love still believed we had a chance.
After school, I didn’t go straight to him. Instead, I drove home. I made tea I didn’t drink and stared at the letter again.The one I’d folded and refolded so many times the creases were permanent now.
He’d given up everything for Kacen. He’d let me go without a word. He’d lived in silence and shadows so the people he loved could have a chance at light. And somehow… this town still wanted to punish him for it. It wasn’t fair. But it was real.
I didn’t want to be afraid of love again. But I didn’t know how to be brave either. Not when everyone was watching. Not when the stakes were so high. My heart pulled me in one direction. My past and my pride pulled me in another.
I needed time, a little bit of space. A breath of distance to decide whether I was ready to be the kind of woman who could stand next to a man like Kingston Raines, not in the shadows, but in the spotlight too. So I picked up my phone and called him.
“Hey,” he answered, his voice low and warm, reminding me of exactly how it had felt to be wrapped in his arms for hours while we shut out the rest of the world.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Can I come over?”
“Always.”
