“I love him,” I said, nodding at Macon. “I love this baby. And I’m not leaving.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then turned away, fists clenched at his sides. “I see,” he said, clipped. “If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
He put the sunglasses back on, mask slipping over his face. “Very well. I hope you’re ready for the consequences.”
He got back in the car, door slamming like a gunshot. The engine purred to life, and just like that, he was gone.
For a long minute, I just stood there, not sure if I wanted to cry or laugh or collapse.
Macon was beside me, solid and silent. He didn’t say anything, just put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. “You did good,” he said, voice gentle.
I let myself lean on him, the weight of everything suddenly gone.
The sky was clear above us, no clouds, no storm on the way. The air smelled of sawdust and spring, and somewhere inside, I could hear Jojo and Rawley laughing over breakfast.
For the first time, I was free.
I took Macon’s hand, lacing our fingers together, and we walked back toward the house.
Home.
