He shook his head. He brought his hand up to her cheek, leaving the keys hanging in the door. “Shhh, baby, I know. We don’t have to—You don’t—I mean, unless you need to say it.”
“I don’t need to say it,” Cherry said.
Tom held her cheek. “Can we leave it out here?”
Out here in the snow, Cherry thought.In this lost year.
Could it be that easy?
Could Cherry just empty her pockets and shake out the pain and anger? Wipe away thirty-two kinds of tears?
What if she left Rachel out here? With her red hair and jumpsuits.
And Russ, too. With his gorgeous eyes and good intentions. (Could Cherry really forget Russ?Maybe not. But she could let him go. She could let him drift.)
Cherry had died so many times since Tom left. And since she told him to stay away.
She’d felt her bone marrow fester.
She’d spent months picking herself up in tiny pieces and painstakingly putting them right.
Could she set those months aside?
Could she hand this man those pieces?
This man who had failed her.
Who’d abandoned her.
Who’d let the winds blow him far, far away?
No.
No.
No.
Yes.
She nodded. “Tom...”
“What is it, baby?”
“I know you said you didn’t want a fresh start, but you’re getting one anyway.”
Cherry opened the door.
She pulled Tom inside.
Chapter 66
Cherry didn’t look cute.
She was still wearing yoga pants. Her hair was still in a limp ponytail.
When they got inside the house, Tom leaned over to say hi to Stevie. He asked if she’d had her walk. She had.
“Let’s go to bed,” Tom said.
