Head lolling back, hanging off my neck, Jackie looks at me through heavy lashes. “Promise?” Those round, blue eyes are a sledgehammer aimed straight at my self-control.
Fuck me.
Surprisingly, she lets me lead her to the truck without fuss, her small hand nestled securely in mine. She doesn’t protest even when I lean over to buckle her up.
“Such a gentleman,” she snickers, trying to smother a smile.
I plant my hands on the seat, our noses almost touching. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I was thinking,” I say, the words rougher than I intended, and the air shifts in the cab.
But then her drunken laughter fills the silence, and it unceremoniously lands me back in reality.
The drive back through the forest is pitch-black, lit only by our headlights and a scatter of stars punched into the clear night sky. Tipsy Jackie doesn’t seem to care, mumbling the song from the bar.
“You’re so different here,” she says suddenly. “With them.” Her voice drifts, loose and dreamy, in the quiet cab.
I have to be. Ever since I left this place, I’ve learned to curate every part of my life. From what I wear, to the way I handle myself in rooms full of people who expect a mirror of themselves. I can’t let slip that I’m different from them. Embarrass myself. Sometimes it feels like I’m split cleanly in two.
“It’s different here,” I say instead. “Easier.”
“I feel guilty, you know,” she blurts, the words tumbling out of nowhere.
My pulse kicks up a notch. On the steering wheel, my knuckles turn white. “About what?”
“Leaving like that.” Her voice is so small I barely catch her words. “And for what Blanca said.”
My breath catches for a second, but I force myself to stay focused on the uneven dirt road. “She’s an asshole,” I say evenly. “At least she’s honest about it.”
“It’s all nonsense. She has no idea what she’s talking about,” Jackie keeps rambling, her words slurring slightly, completely unaware how they slice through me. “I never told her…I should’ve at least talked to you before moving.”
The words balance on the tip of my tongue, but she wouldn’t have said anything if she’d been thinking straight, so I force my voice to flatten. “I’ve gotten over it.”
She hums, unconvinced, then turns to stare out of the window.
“Tonight was…good.” It’s all she says later when I hold the door open for her, and she beelines for the stairs to my bedroom.
Lying on the uneven air mattress in my mom’s sewing room, I’m unsure how to feel. Even if she might not remember it in the morning, it’s the first apology I’ve ever heard from her.
I wonder if we’ll ever have an honest,soberconversation. And if it would make a difference. The circumstances haven’t changed. I can’t rewrite where I come from or my family’s lineage.
Somewhere along the way, I forgave her already, even when I still pretended I didn’t. Even when I was holding on to anger like it was going to protect me.
The problem is, I’d let go of everything if she gave me any sign she’d changed her mind.
And I don’t know if that makes me hopeful, or if I’m so blinded by her that I’m setting myself up for more heartbreak.
Chapter Nineteen
JACKIE
I’ve been walking around with this unfamiliar weight in my chest for the couple of days we’ve been back in Silver Lake Falls. It started small, but when we said goodbye to Adam’s parents, and his mother hugged me fiercely, it tilted my world.
“I’m ready to put my talents to good use,” Adam drawls, voice still throaty with sleep as he breezes into the kitchen. He’s freshly showered, light brown hair still damp. On his way to the coffee maker, the scent of soap and pine washes over me, so comforting and familiar.
The thought of histalentsstirs memories of his capable hands I shouldn’t indulge. The list crinkles in my fist as I force down a shiver.
“Eliza left me a list.” I do my best to keep my voice even. “The materials are in the barn.”
Adam focuses on pouring the coffee into his cup like he’s playing with volatile substances. “I thought she’d at least give us a tutorial.”
