Her half-finished painting still sat displayed on the easel in the living room since she couldn’t bring herself to complete it, nor could she bring herself to put it away. So that meant she was in her room, on her bed, reading the same paragraph over and over again because she couldn’t concentrate on anything.
The front door opened and closed, murmured voices filtering up the steps followed by feet pounding the stairs. Avery and Mac stood in her doorway, both looking ready for a night on the town.
“Will.” Avery looked her up and down, disgust curling her lip. Possibly over the ratty clothes she was wearing. Or possibly over the spilled marinara sauce on said ratty clothes. “What’re you doing.”
She held up her paperback. “Reading.”
“Last I checked, you weren’t eighty years old, which means you shouldn’t be reading at eight o’clock on a Friday night.”
“I don’t know what age has to do with it,” Willow said. “What’s wrong with reading, even on a Friday night?”
“Absolutely nothing, except you’re on the same damn page you were on this morning.” Mac raised a brow. “Yes, I checked.”
“Well—”
“C’mon. Come out with us. The grand opening’s tonight. They’re doin’ two-for-one drinks till nine.”
Willow’s stomach clenched as overwhelming sadness swept over her. “I…can’t.”
Avery plucked Willow’s book from her hand, then yanked her up by the arms until she stood next to her bed. “You can and you will. This is the final piece in the square revitalization, and you deserve to see it.Youdid this, Will. We want to celebrate it with you, and everyone in Havenbrook does too.”
She looked from her best friend to her sister, both of them imploring her with sincerity in their eyes. They were right, of course. This was what she’d been working on for the past five years. Was what she’d fought with her daddy over—because she believed in what was coming, and in what it could do for the hometown she loved so much.
“Someone find me something to wear, because I obviously can’t go in this.”
Avery and Mac exchanged a look, then Avery strode to Willow’s closet and began shuffling through, mumbling about this color matching that. Mac gave Willow a one-armed hug and pulled her close.
This would hurt. Seeing the business Finn worked so hard on without him there would crack her heart open, no doubt about it. But she wanted to. Wanted to see the outcome of her hard work and determination for the past five years. Wanted, too, to see what he’d been able to accomplish with the odds stacked against him. Especially since he wasn’t there to see it himself.
* * *
By the timethe three of them got to the square, it was packed. Nearly as full as it’d been during the Fourth of July parade. Hundreds of Havenbrook residents convened outside the space as they didn’t seem to be letting anyone inside.
Willow allowed herself to take it in, really look at it for the first time since the Fourth. The once-peeling paint of the window casings and rotted front door had been replaced. The cracked pavement in front of the building had been repoured. And since she’d last paid attention, a sign now hung above the front door, a white drop cloth draped over it hiding the name they’d finally settled on.
Mac waved to get someone’s attention, but Willow was focused on the building, where everyone else seemed to be looking. Waiting for…what, she didn’t know. And then Nola’s head popped up over the crowd as she stood on a raised platform directly beneath the covered sign. She brought her fingers to her mouth and let out a loud wolf whistle, quieting the crowd immediately.
“Hey, y’all! Thanks for comin’ out tonight to help us celebrate the grand opening of Havenbrook’svery first bar.” A bright smile swept across her face as hoots and whistles burst from the crowd. “Now, I know y’all’ve been promised somethin’, so I won’t take up more of your time. I just want to welcome everyone”—she grabbed the white cloth draped over the sign and yanked it down, revealing the logo beneath—“to The Willow Tree.”
Claps and hollers sprang up around her, but Willow couldn’t pay attention to any of them. Her gaze was fixed on the sign Nola had revealed. Letters spelling out The Willow Tree were punched out of steel, and beside it was a logo with a beer bottle as the trunk of the tree, leaves sprouting from the top and spilling out on either side.
Her heart thrummed in her chest, her eyes filling with tears, her throat clogging with emotions so deep she could hardly breathe. Finn. Finn had done this—one last thing to show her how much he loved her, even after he was gone.
And now, she was going to have to walk by it every day, was going to have to see it outside her window at work, andache. Ache knowing she’d lost the love of a lifetime not once but twice. Knowing she’d never, ever get it—
“Are those good tears or bad?” a voice whispered right in her ear. A voice she’d know anywhere.
She spun around and there stood Finn, in the middle of Havenbrook Square, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Finn, what—”
“Come over here with me for a sec?” He held out his hand and tilted his head toward the other side of the square where no one lingered.
She looked down at his hand and bit her lip, then looked back to find her sister and Avery. They were already swallowed up by the crowd, but Willow could still make them out. Avery smiled at her, and Mac gave her a thumbs-up. So she did the only thing she could. She slipped her hand into his, exhaling as his fingers closed around hers, his grip steady and firm. Comforting. Easing an ache in her chest that’d been there since she’d told him goodbye.
When they were away from prying ears, he pulled her to a stop in front of him, their hands still connected between them. Then he just stared. Ran his eyes over every inch of her, cataloging each one of her features while she did the same for him. His hair was wild—like it got when she’d been running her fingers through it—his jaw covered with several days’ worth of scruff. Light bruises marred the skin beneath his eyes, as if he’d been sleeping about as well as she had. Which was to say, not at all.
She wanted to throw her arms around him, feel his wrap around her. Wanted to kiss him and tell him she loved him and she’d missed him. But she had so many questions, she didn’t know where to start. So she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re supposed to be in California.”
His lips quirked up at the side, and he reached out tentatively, his hand inching closer to her face. When she didn’t flinch or pull away, he swept his fingertips down her face from her temple to her chin. “Why would I be there when the woman I love is right here?”
