The wind stirs the tall grass, and for a moment, it feels like Ry is here, listening. Forgiving. Because that’s who he was. The best of us.
“I just want to come home,” I sob, letting the agony of the past twenty years run free.
It’s cathartic in a way, but it doesn’t lessen the hell I live in.
I look up at the house again, blurred by the tears that won’t stop, knowing Liz is probably somewhere inside, starting herday, unaware of the ghost from her past kneeling out in the field below.
I don’t want to leave yet, even though I know I need to. I am trespassing, after all. But I stay for just a few more minutes and let the remorse and sorrow settle deep.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell Ry, kissing the pads of my fingertips and touching his name. “I love you, brother. I’ll see you soon.”
Rising to my feet, I take one last lingering look at his grave before turning back in the direction I came.
Chapter Seventeen
ELIZABETH
Secrets
Every noisefrom outside that I hear has my eyes darting to the window, thinking it’s Fallon, and I berate myself for the thousandth time for doing it.
It’s just lunch.
With Fallon.
But also…the idea of moving on.
With Fallon.
Needing to get a grip, I swipe my Kindle from the coffee table, curl up on the sofa, and scroll through the books in my library for something dark and smutty.
Marcus walks in and gives me a quick kiss on the top of the head. “Won’t be home until late.”
“Guys’ night?” I inquire. He, Knox, Tate, and a few of the guys from the garage often get together once a month for poker night.
“Date night.”
“Susan?”
They’ve had this on-again-off-again relationship for a year. I don’t like her. She reminds me too much of Jacinda, but I’ve keptmy mouth shut. One thing I learned about being a parent is that if you tell your kid not to do something, they will do the opposite just to try and prove you wrong. But if she hurts him in any way, the gloves come off.
Jingling his keys, he replies with a cheeky grin, “Hannah.”
Oh, thank god. Not Susan.
“Have fun.”
“I will,” he says, heading out.
Apparently, the revolving door of my life keeps turning when Charlotte peeks her head around the corner.
“Hey, Mom. Do you have a sec to talk?”
Please don’t let this be about her and Grant wanting to have sex.
I set my tablet aside. “I have all the time in the world for you.”
Charlotte’s face is sun-kissed from her morning spent in the backyard weeding the butterfly garden. She loves being outdoors. Hiking, biking, rock climbing, you name it. She is very much like Ryder in that way. Adventurous and carefree. I was like that, too, once upon a time—when New Elizabeth emerged. The girl with no memory, who had a blank slate at life to start over. I haven’t been that girl in years.
