I cut him off. “Your dad asked for one thing,” I say, steady even with tears streaking my face. “Just one. Be a good person. Look at you now. Think you nailed it?”
I turn away before he can answer, flee to the safety of home before I change my mind and stay.
Because I’ve never seen Xaden that broken before.
XADEN
I ride aimlessly through Baywood, ignoring JJ’s texts. Right now I don’t give a fuck about the op.
Cole’s all I care about.How the hell am I ever going to make it right if I can’t even get through one conversation without setting it on fire?
I was supposed to warn him. Try to reason with him. Tell him to be careful.
Instead, I saw him with Caspian again and snapped. Said the ugliest thing I could have said.
I know him better than anyone.
Love him more than anyone.
So why the fuck do I keep hurting him more than anyone?
I don’t realize where I’m going until I’m there. At the cemetery. Mom and Dad’s headstone.
Hi Mom. Hi Dad. It’s your spectacularly messed-up son. I’m lost. I’m tired. I’m scared. And today I became someone you wouldn’t recognize. Someone who hurt the person he loves most.
The last time I came here, Cole found me. Sat beside me in the rain. Shoulder to shoulder, soaked through, refusing to move until I believed I wasn’t alone. No words. Just him. Stubborn, steady, everything I needed.
Now I can’t stop wondering if I’ve ruined that forever. If he’ll ever look at me with anything but anger again.
I press my palms to the stone. Stay there. Long enough for the ache in my chest to dull into something quieter.
“What should I do, Dad? Because right now I feel so far from the good person you wanted me to be… I don’t know if I can find my way back.”
Nothing but silence. So I answer myself: I’ll finish this case. Pull the thread. Burn out the rot. Make sure Dad’s death means something.
Even if it costs me Cole. Even if I never forgive myself.
I brush dirt from my jeans. “I’m sorry I hurt him. I’ll fix it. And I’ll finish what you started. I promise.”
Walking out of the cemetery, I don’t feel lighter. I feel heavier. But under the weight is something else. Not hope. Not yet. But purpose.
COLE
Noah’s asleep. Three rounds ofThe Very Hungry Caterpillardid the trick, though at this point I’m starting to have nightmares about the insatiable insect. There should be support groups for parents who can recite the damn thing backwards.
Caspian checked in. Asked if I wanted company.
I told him I’m fine.I’m not fine.But whatever this is with Xaden — the storms, the hurt, the heat — it’s ours.
Messy. Brutal. Unfinished. But ours.
I’m wiping down the kitchen counter for the third time tonight. So things are pretty bad. I keep seeing the look in Xaden’s eyes. The moment he broke. Because of me. Because I couldn’t resist pushing back, daring him, trying to win some battle neither of us really wanted to fight.
Now the silence is louder than his words.
And I can’t stop thinking: maybe Baywood isn’t as picture-perfect as it pretends to be. Maybe every parent, every teacher, every so-called pillar of the community is hiding something. Maybe Frankie was right when he told Xaden that quiet towns are the loudest with secrets.
And maybe Xaden was right, too. What if his dad’s death really wasn’t an accident?
