“I don't know what he likes anymore.”
“Then get a variety. Cover your bases.” She started loading different six-packs into the cart. “Worst case, you drink what he doesn't.”
I didn't argue. Just watched her work, grateful for her presence even if I'd never say it out loud.
We hit the meat section. Mara grabbed steaks, chicken, ground beef. Enough protein to feed someone who actually ate instead of just survived on coffee and takeout.
“You gonna cook?” she asked.
“If he's hungry.”
“He'll be hungry.” She paused and looked at me. “You nervous?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
I didn't deny it this time. Just kept pushing the cart while Mara filled it with things I probably wouldn't use and Troy probably wouldn't want.
By the time we finished, the cart was full and my credit card was lighter and I still had no idea what I was going to say when Troy walked through the door.
Mara helped me load everything into my truck, then stood there with her arms crossed while I climbed into the driver's seat.
“You'll be fine,” she said.
“You don't know that.”
“I know you. You're tougher than you think.” She leaned against the door frame. “And Declan? Whatever happens, don't let him make you small. You stayed. You cared. You did your best. That matters, even if he can't see it yet.”
I nodded, didn't trust my voice.
She stepped back and let me close the door. I started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed home with a truck full of groceries and a chest full of dread.
Troy was coming home.
And I still had no idea what the fuck I was going to do about it.
THREE
ARRIVALS
DECLAN
Istood near the arrivals gate with my hands shoved in my jacket pockets, watching the board flip through flight numbers and times that meant nothing to me except the one I'd memorized. The display showed a fifteen-minute delay, which meant I'd been standing here for forty minutes already, early because the alternative was sitting at home counting down the minutes until I had to leave. Mara had offered to come with me. Said it might be easier with a buffer between us. I'd told her no. This was between me and Troy, and it always had been.
The board updated to show his flight had landed.
My stomach clenched, and I told myself it was nerves, the way any man would feel walking into a conversation he'd been dreading for six years.
People started streaming through the gate, business travelers in suits, families hauling tired kids, couples reuniting with an easy affection that looked effortless from a distance. I scanned faces, looking for the one I'd know anywhere even if six years had changed everything else about it.
Then I saw him, and the plan died on the spot.
He looked different. The boy I'd raised was gone entirely, replaced by a man who moved through the crowd like he was braced for a fight. He had on a black jacket and dark jeans, boots that had seen better days, and an expression that said he'd already clocked every exit in the building and found them all inadequate. He also looked tired, worn down in a way that had nothing to do with the flight and everything to do with whatever life he'd been living since he left. Since I'd let him leave.
He spotted me. Our eyes locked across the terminal, and for a second neither of us moved, just stood there staring at each other across twenty feet of polished floor while people flowed around us like water around stones.
Then my body made a decision my brain hadn't authorized.
