She couldn’t focus on a book or magazine, and Jenna hadn’t even left her the option to stress clean. Despite having a toddler, the place was nearly spotless. Jenna had a hardcore cleaning habit, and on top of that, she’d probably been nestingthe last few days.
Maybe part of why Tara enjoyed kids so much because they were often as loud and chaotic as she was. To Robbie, she wasn’t messy, messed up, or a total mess, she was just fun, playful “Tawa.”
Gathering linens from the cupboard in the hall, she tucked a sheet over the sofa, plopped onto the plush cushions, and snuggled under a blanket. Sleep or no, resting her eyes and bodywould feel good.
An hour later, thedingof her phone startled her awake. She rubbed her face and glanced at the screen.Jeff.
Sitting up cross-legged, her body buzzed as she read his text.
Evan is in stable condition at the hospital. Compound fracture to his upper arm, but no complications during surgery.
Jeff didn’t know she’d found the news article, so leading with Evan’s conditionwas thoughtful.
She tapped out a reply.Oh no! So glad he’s okay though.
Wish I could be there to hug you.I love you.She wouldnottype that.
His response came quickly.Didn’t mean to wake you. I thought you’d see this in the morning.
Did he really not want to disrupt her sleep, or had he hoped to avoid a conversation?
No problem. I’d rather know now than keep worrying. Thank you forremembering.
Three dots appeared on the screen, cycling over and over until she thought maybe he’d fallen asleep or decided not to respond. And then her phonedingedand buzzed in her palm.
Of course.
She waited, but that was it. Those two dry, detached words, so carefully neutral and dismissive.
She’d been right not to text him first.
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. She’dslept with Jeff knowing exactly what he had to offer, and yet part of her had hoped that maybe, just maybe it could turn out differently. That by some miracle, Jeff would decide she was worth taking a chance on.
Her rational mind absolutelyknew—had known from the beginning—that he was returning to Boulder with Evan and never looking back. But her foolish heart had stayed optimistic, even whenher brain had begun to doubt.
She’d known the score ahead of time. Problem was, she hadn’t correctly calculated the pain.
Something scratched at the front door.
Tara sat bolt upright.
It was after three a.m. Could it be the neighbor’s cat? Maybe Myrtle Beach had rats. Heart thundering, she tiptoed to the foyer, tucking her phone into her back pocket. The alarm system console blinked redto show that it was armed. At least she’d done something right.
Scritch. The door handle rattled faintly.
She smothered a gasp. The sound was so quiet that she probably would’ve slept right through it if not for Jeff’s text.
Holding her breath, she peeked through the viewer. A slender figure stood under the porch light, face in shadow beneath the brim of a ball cap. Tara stumbled back andgrabbed her phone. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of shortcut for the emergency number? Her shaky fingers wouldn’t cooperate and she nearly dropped it.
The alarm console. Of course.
Lunging toward the square panel installed next to the front door, she pressed the panic button.
