Stepping back, I take in the full effect of the decorated porch.
“She’s going to think this is too much,” I say.
Phones buzz all around us.
“They’re five minutes out,” Betty says.
Five minutes. In five minutes, I’ll find out if the damage I’ve caused can be repaired.
Nothing in my life has ever scared me more.
“Scatter,” Agnes shouts, clapping her hands. “Everyone out. Give the man some space. He doesn’t need an audience for this.”
“But—” Pops isn’t leaving without a fight.
“Out,” Agnes repeats firmly. “You can interrogate them both tomorrow. Tonight is just for them.”
I appreciate her sentiment, but I don’t believe for one second that I’ll have privacy for my apology. It’s simply not how things are done in Happiness.
There’s grumbling, but one by one, they file off the porch and out of sight. Agnes pauses to press something cool into my palm.
“Rose quartz,” she says. “For love. Keep it in your pocket.”
I don’t believe in crystals, but you can bet your ass I put it in my pocket anyway. I’m not taking any chances.
Chief is the last to leave. He stops at the top of the steps and turns back to me.
“She’s going to forgive you,” he says quietly. “In some ways, she probably already has. But don’t you dare waste this chance, son. You don’t get too many of them.”
“On my life,” I say, pressing my palm to my heart.
He nods with a crooked smile, then disappears inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
And finally, I know what it means to come home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CLOVER
Madi and Savvy talk the entire drive home, and I don’t hear a single word, even though I’m squished between them on the RV’s Murphy bed while Elle chimes in over FaceTime. She stayed home with her daughter and Madi’s little boy.
I’m not sure where we would have put her anyway.
Roman’s driving, while Greyson muscled Chase out of the passenger seat. Braxton is in the recliner, and Grant got the gaming chair. Chase and Sterling sit on the floor facing us, their backs pressed to the front seats.
Elle says something about star-crossed lovers, but I’m too busy clutching Valen’s copy ofForgotten Scarsto my chest. It might be the only thing keeping my heart from escaping my body.
Valen came back.
But coming back isn’t the same as staying. He could be there right now, rehearsing a speech about why his guilt matters more than we do.
For all I know, maybe he thinks he has to turn himself in for a crime he was forced to commit.
The thought makes me want to throw up, which would be unfortunate, considering what I’ve already put my friends through. Vomiting in an enclosed space might be pushing it.
“Are you okay?” Madi asks again. I’ve lost track of how many times they’ve asked me the same question.
Even Greyson turns around and offers an apologetic shrug. All the men in here have been suspiciously quiet since picking me up, but I feel the tension coiling around them.
