“About fifteen minutes ago. I’ve changed her, but she might be hungry.” It gave Seth an excuse to hand the baby to his mother, who took her with a smile. His relief was almost as intense as his fear had been.
He took a calming breath and began putting the groceries away. “Hey, Mom. Can I get the key to my old house? I want to clean it out and put it on the market. I think…it’s time.”
“I’ve been wondering, going over there every so often and keeping it up.” Grace’s expression softened. “But I think you’re right.”
He might be mixed up about wanting kids, but he was committed to moving forward…whatever that looked like. “I need to close that chapter of my life.”
And to figure out the next.
His mother’s smile was full of relief and pride. “The key is upstairs in my jewelry box. I’ll get it for you.”
He put the last of the dry goods in the pantry. “I’ll grab it. You’ve got a precious armful.”
“I do.” She grinned down at Anna, making faces and laughing at her little-girl giggles.
When he returned moments later, he clenched the key in his fist. “Got it. Thanks.”
Gentle understanding filled his mother’s face. “I know it won’t be easy, but you’re doing the right thing.”
If she knew the truth, she’d undoubtedly tell him he was making the biggest mistake of his life. Seth wasn’t convinced she’d be wrong.
After waving goodbye to his mom and baby Anna, Seth pocketed the key and slid into Grace’s SUV, fighting the rising dread. Traffic was shitty, but that wasn’t his problem.
He hadn’t set foot in this house in eight years, and he was under no illusions. It was going to hurt.
Gripping the wheel tighter, Seth blew out a heavy sigh and shoved away the tragic memories of his past.
When he turned into the subdivision, he was startled by how much the neighborhood had changed. It looked older. The fences weren’t quite as straight and white. The oak trees that had been saplings when he and Autumn had moved in now towered over the sidewalks, their branches creating a canopy of green. A few houses showed signs of neglect—sagging roofs and overgrown weeds—while others gleamed with fresh paint and colorful flowers. The Hendersons’ blue colonial was now a cheerful yellow.
Yet in other ways, everything looked the same. Same winding lanes. Same front doors. Same suburban vibe.
Seth turned onto his former street, vaguely wondering if Mrs. Vacarro—the crazy cat lady—still lived in the corner house. He remembered the way Autumn had saved leftover chicken for the strays, then sneaked out to feed them when she’d thought he wasn’t looking. A melancholy smile tugged at his lips.
Rolling past the Whitaker’s place, he arched a brow at the bright red tricycle, turtle-shaped sandbox, and the assortment of toys scattered across the front lawn. Either the contentious couple who used to have screaming matches regularly—often involving the cops—had worked out their issues or a different family lived there now.
Seth saw subtle changes everywhere. Grimly, he realized that while he’d spent the last eight years frozen in the aftermath of that grisly Christmas Eve, the rest of the world had kept on spinning.
When his old house came into view, a sudden arctic wave swept up his body, chilling his veins. Conversely, he started to sweat.
The craftsman-style ranch looked eerily preserved—exactly as he remembered. Fresh paint kept the exterior a warm cream. The gutters were clean. The lawn neatly trimmed. But the flower beds Autumn had once spent hours tending no longer exploded with riotous color. Instead, practical perennials his mother must have chosen dotted the beds—low-maintenance, sensible.
It looked like a house. Not a home.
As he pulled into the driveway, he saw faint scorch marks on the street and sidewalk. Dark stains that no amount of time or weather had been able to erase. Wounds that never quite healed…
Like me.
Drawing in a ragged breath, he stopped the SUV and killed the engine. He stared at the house—so familiar, yet so foreign.
Seth gripped the wheel with trembling hands and dragged in a rough breath, trying to gather his courage to leave the safety of the car.
When he finally managed to step from the SUV, his legs felt filled with lead. Each step toward the front door was a battle, raging between the part of him that needed to move on and the part of him that wasn’t ready to face his past. Or his future.
Ruthlessly, he shoved aside the memories and bit back a curse, wiping the sweat beading his brow as he tried like hell not to hyperventilate.
Focus. You have to fucking focus.
With that admonishment rolling through his head, he fished the key from his pocket. His hands were shaking so badly he fumbled it, nearly dropping it on the weathered porch boards.
