“Wife, mother, still figuring the rest out.” There’s an edge to her tone that drops off into emptiness.
“I don’t want you to feel like you missed out on things if we—you know.” I scrub my hand through my hair. Why is this so hard?
“Nope. I won’t be missing out on anything if we live the rest of our lives together. You and Sonny are everything I ever wanted.”
“Do you miss the mainland?”
She lifts her shoulder. “I miss cookie dough.”
I chuckle. “How about we close up here tomorrow and then fly to Los Angeles a few days ahead of the charity event? We could go to the beach and see the sights.”
She eyes her phone in the kitchen.
I take her hand. “Help me make our last home-cooked meal for a while. I want you to show me what you’ve learned while at Camp Adams.”
The weeks on the island have been something like summer camp filled with hiking, swimming, learning, and falling in love. I’ve never felt the way I do about Everly with anyone else. She’slike the sun that rises in the morning and the moonlight that shines at night. I deserve a team tackle for that one and I’d take it like a man.
Officially, the thirty days of reform school are over. I succeeded in passing the Blancbourg program, yet we’re still here, still together.
Everly dons an apron and her phone buzzes again. Ignoring it, she says, “What’s on the menu tonight? Celebration cupcakes? Ice cream? Ooh, how about cookie dough sundaes? Or if we were in Concordia, we’d get one of their famous chocolate cakes.” She says the words clearly enough, but her usual enthusiasm is dull.
“Nah, the one you made for my birthday was better.”
“How do you know? Concordia is literally famous for the chocolate cake.”
“Becauseyoumade it.”
I anticipate Everly’s sunny smile, but it’s dim, a partly cloudy day instead of the warm rays of light blast I’ve grown used to.
While I’m worried about what comes next, perhaps she’s concerned about me handling the grief that still appears from time to time. But I can no longer avoid it, for her sake, Sonny’s, and our future. I’ve been writing my brother letters like I used to do when he first joined the military. I’m getting it all out on the page, even if he’ll never read them.
I stifle a sigh. “I want to grill this fish.” I set it on the counter. “How about I leave you in charge of the salad? Use up everything in the fridge since we won’t be back for a little while. We’ll call iteverything but the kitchen sink salad.”
In the pause, I wait for her to giggle at my dumb joke. It doesn’t come as her phone buzzes and the nameToddblinks onto the screen.
The anger that I keep locked inside rattles the bars of its cage and causes my jaw to twitch. “Is he harassing you again?”
She shakes her head.
“Remember the Marriage Club rules?”
The phone’s buzz repeats. I want to snap the thing in half. Instead, I ask, “Have you thought about blocking his number?”
Everly says a panicked, “Yes, no.” She grabs her phone.
“Yes? No? What do you mean? That guy is dangerous. I don’t want him bothering you. I don’t want him anywhere near you. Not in real life or over the phone.”
“It’s not that.” Desperation underscores each word.
My brow furrows. The kitchen turns a deep shade of red as my anger grows. “Everly, please tell me what is going on.” It’s a command rather than a request.
She flinches.
“What do we have if we can’t be honest with each other?” I ask.
She shakes her head rapidly as though fighting with herself over telling me.
A pit grows in my stomach. “Is he asking for you back?”
