“Holy fuck. That’s hot,” Micah says with a groan.
“Take a picture,” Millie whispers.
“Can I call you guys back?” I laugh as I unbuckle my seat belt.
“You fucking better,” Micah says, and Emil chuckles.
“Stand up for you,” Millie says. “And we love you and adore you and want pictures.” Then the call ends, and the car’s sudden silence fills my ears.
34
GAVIN
It only took one minute for me to decide to follow her. One minute of tears streaming down my face before my body snapped into action.
This time, I’m an adult. I’m not watching the taillights again and never following. I’m doing something about it.
This time, the woman who owns my heart is driving away, and I’m not going to let her without telling her how I feel.
I love her. And I have to tell her.
Sprinting to the door, I was desperate to grab my keys before she made it much further. But when I swung it open, Lena’s family stood in the entryway, faces scrunched in sadness.
“We thought she would stay,” Bea said through a sob.
“I’m going to get her back,” I announced, sliding past Auggie to grab my keys and phone from the coffee table. I decided at the last minute to swing through the kitchen and snag my coat and Lena’s untouched lemon pie.
Squeezing my keys so hard that the sharp points dug into my skin, I made my way back to the door and watched as their tears transformed into hopeful ones.
Luci’s chin quivered as she wrapped her hands around my wrists. “Bring our girl back.”
Next, Bea patted my cheek. “You love her,” she said, not a question, but a confirmation.
I swallowed thickly and nodded. “I do.”
Auggie dipped his chin and wrapped me in a tight hug as he said, “Tell her. She needs to know.”
It was only a ten-minute drive here, but it felt like hours. With my heart in my throat and my stomach in knots, I sped toward town, desperately trying to catch her at the only gas station.
But fear strangled me when I spotted her car, the front bumper smashed into a snowbank, windshield covered in snow.
My pulse pounded like hoofbeats in my ears as I accelerated to pull up next to her.
It was her tires. I know it was thosefucking tires.
The things I should’ve done will haunt me for the rest of my life. I should have taken care of her tires the moment I saw the wear on them. I should’ve begged her to stay. Told her the truth. Admitted that she’s the only home I’ve ever needed.
But I didn’t.
Shoving the car into park, I threw open my door and ran to hers, gripped by the terror of what I might find. But as my feet skidded to a stop by her window, a soft smile colored her lips, and the relief of it had me gasping for breath.
Now she looks at me through the window, her caramel eyes puffy and red-rimmed, but after a quick scan, the rest of her body appears to be fine.
She brushes her fingers over her cheeks as I step back for her to open the door. Then I fall to my knees in the snow beside her, cold moisture seeping into my jeans and the hard ground biting my knees, but I don’t care.
“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” I pat her thighs, her arms, her shoulders, her cheeks, searching for any sign that something’s wrong.
“I’m okay.” Her broken sob cracks my chest wide open.
